The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

In all her life, Kez had heard a lot of stupid things—though really, plenty of them had come from her own mouth. She couldn’t help it. She liked to ask questions, she liked to get answers, and sometimes the answers were so obvious she’d slap herself in the face.

Once, she remembered, she’d asked her warrior-father why the sky was blue. ‘Silly girl,’ he’d laughed at her then, ‘the sky is blue because of the ancestors.’

She’d been confused by that, too. ‘Why didn’t the ancestors make the sky white like snow?’ Kez had asked.

‘There are clouds in the sky, my love, white ones like the snow. When the lights appear, they are green like the trees, and when the sun is falling, the sky is bright like fire.’

‘But what about blue?’ she’d protested, ‘All the other colors I understand, we see them everywhere, but why blue?’

‘Don’t you see?’ her warrior-father said, and he took her forearm in both his hands. ‘Here,’ he pointed to her wrist, and drew lines down it, following the blue veins of blood that trickled down her arm. Kez had giggled and gasped when she realized the point, then that giggling had turned to outright laughter as her whole arm was tickled by his fingers.

That had been a stupid thing. Funny, insightful, but still stupid. She’d heard other people say stupid things, too. Everybody said stupid things, it was natural.

Once, she remembered, a boy from her camp, probably a warrior by nature, had asked her, ‘Why are your arms so thick?’

Kez had had a lot of her stupid questions answered before, so she wasn’t going to punch him in the face immediately. She’d settled for saying, ‘What the fuck is that supposed to mean?’ instead.

‘Well, warriors are supposed to be the ones with big arms, so they can swing their weapons. Look at mine, look at my warrior-father’s and warrior-mother’s. They’re big and strong, so why are yours all thick when you’re a huntress?’

‘Because I do this,’ she’d said, and her hands found and nocked an arrow in her bow in an instant, ‘every single day, without breaking a sweat, and so many more things. Instead of just swinging a sword around like an idiot.’

‘But I don’t see,’ the boy said. ‘You’re not a warrior, and you’re just using a piece of wood and string. I bet you couldn’t lift my sword.’ He didn’t see, and he was saying stupid things, and that was fine. He saw Kez’s fist, though, right before it smashed in and broke his nose.

That might’ve been stupid of her. Justified, cathartic, but still stupid. But that’s what stupidness won you, and it ended up teaching him a lesson. He was still an idiot, just less of one, when they’d started fucking three years later. Or maybe he wasn’t less of one, and she was just more of one.

Kez sort of wished she had someone like that right now, while she sat on a boulder and fletched a fresh set of arrows. Not a man, not an idiot, not someone to fuck, but someone to punch. She’d probably break her fist on Tel’s face, so that was out. And besides, Tel didn’t deserve it, even if she was annoying.

Rys, though. Kez was pretty damn sure Rys deserved it. Would it be smart, punching Rys in the face? No. Would it feel good? Yes.

Right? Probably, right?

Kez wanted it to feel good. After all the seer had just dropped on them, why wouldn’t it feel good? Kez just wanted to take her hand, make a fist, then throw all her weight into it and—

Ah, crap. She looked down to her hands. Another broken arrow shaft. She tossed it away, joining at least three others in the mess near her feet. Her fists were tight, her muscles taut, her whole body trembling with rage…

She exhaled. She thought of smoke. And she inhaled. She thought of warmth. And she exhaled. She thought of…

Of the shape sitting next to her on the rock, large as she was silent. Tel could shout and sing louder than anything, but when she tried, Kez knew she could be even as quiet as a huntress. Not so much as herself, of course, Kez was too good at what she did, but she was still surprised the warrior had gotten so close without her noticing.

The huntress sniffed, rubbing the back of her wrist against damp nostrils, before picking up a fresh arrow shaft and feathers. “You’re quiet today,” she said to Tel, while her hands and eyes worked precisely.

The warrior straightened up, her breath making foggy shapes in the cold air, one hand feeling the dark braid that had spilled out from her coat’s hood. “There is little reason to be rowdy,” she said.

Kez shrugged. “Could always go for a scream. Screams always help when I’m mad.”

“You are angered?” Tel asked.

“You’re not?” Kez rebounded.

“I am not,” she answered, and paused. “It would have been a difficult situation for any. And we both have seen how heavily Rys bears her burdens.”

The huntress stared. “She lied, Tel.”

“She omitted,” the warrior corrected, gratingly, “and what would you have done?”

“Fucking tell us! Or, tell you!” Kez groaned. “Fuck, I’d do something instead of just leading us through fucking nowhere on this fucked up fucking Trial while we freeze our fucking tits off and nearly fucking die like, twice al-fucking-ready.”

Tel said nothing at this.

Nor did Kez, for a while. But she could never stand much silence. “How’re your wounds?” she ended up mumbling.

“Better,” Tel said. “Once we are moving, I expect we will go far today.”

“Alright. I mean, good. I mean—”

The warrior’s warm, gloved hand closed around her far shoulder. And Kez felt herself pulled, gently, closer to Tel’s warmth, and soon they were shoulder to shoulder, and soon Kez was trying very hard to focus on the little feathers in her fingers instead of the warmth on her face.

Which was difficult. Because she very much wanted to be even closer. And she very, very much wanted to feel even warmer. And she very, very, very much wanted Tel to sing again, like she had the last time they were this close.

But that, too, was a difficult thought. Because since then, Tel had laid to sleep with Rys in her arms. And here Tel was, apologizing everything that Rys had done to wrong them. It made her face hot, not warm. It made her fists clench. It made her—

Snap. Another arrow ruined. “Fuck,” Kez sighed.

“Listen,” Tel said.

“Fuck. Fuck, fucking, fuck. Fuck.”

“Kez.”

“Fuck. Fuck. We’re so fucked. Everything’s fucked. It’s all—”

“Kez.” Said more sternly. Said with two hands on her shoulders, swiveling her around, forcing her to look at Tel. Forcing her to let the warrior see her wet eyes and trembling lip. Forcing her to feel even more small, even more lost, even more pitiful, even more alone…

And then Tel was wiping away the tears, and Kez was forcing them to stop coming. She felt, probably looked like a wreck. Not like Tel would’ve even been interested in a highly-functioning version of herself. And she wasn’t even… drawn, to girls, anyway. It was fine. It was good. She had at least one friend.

And Kez still wanted to know, because while she didn’t want to lose any friends at all, she really didn’t want to lose two in one day. “How are you not angry at her?” she asked.

Tel’s thumb stopped moving, pressed into the huntress’ cheek. “Because I am more upset with myself.”

“What do you mean?”

The warrior gave a great sigh. “I mean that for all the aid I have offered, for all the words we have shared, for all the moments when I thought I had made some difference…” Her thumb began to stroke again, slowly. “I made none. She was forced to tell us by circumstance. I could not offer comfort, I could give solace, I could not…”

“But you did,” Kez murmured. Her hand had closed around the warrior’s wrist. “You did all that you could.”

“It was not enough,” Tel said.

“Do you think anything could’ve gotten through that thick skull of hers?” Kez felt herself chuckle.

Tel smiled. “No, I do not,” she said.

“You can’t ever control how someone feels, Tel,” the huntress said. And the smile was sad on her face. There were a lot of things she couldn’t change. “If she wasn’t able to tell us, we couldn’t change that,” she said. “It’s not our fault and… fuck, it’s probably not even hers.”

“I do not think it is,” Tel said. “For our elders to inform her alone, so soon before we set out, with nothing in the way of preparation…”

“When the fuck could she have told us, besides now? We’re stubborn.”

“We are,” the warrior grinned.

Kez smiled back. “If we’d heard that, we’d’ve just walked straight back to camp. No point coming out here for something as stupid as all that.”

“True. The word ‘incredulous’ fails to describe my reaction.”

“I just don’t believe it.” Kez put her hands in her lap, releasing Tel’s. “Like, really. Rys hasn’t slept for two weeks?”

“To never rest, whilst marching as we have, would be a feat of extraordinary resolve.”

“Yeah, well, I fucking guess if that other thing’s true, I’d believe she hasn’t slept for a year.”

Tel’s eyebrow rose. “About the stone from the skies?”

“You can’t just cut light in half!” Kez groaned. “It doesn’t make sense. And rocks don’t come from the sky, they come from the dirt.”

“That does not explain the magic in these, which she spoke of.” Tel reached for the neck of her coat, tugging out the flat, round brown rock that Rys had made out to be so important that morning. ‘Seer-stones,’ she’d called them.

“Gifts from the ancestors. Rocks falling out of the sky. Something cutting the aurora in half—you seriously can’t believe all of that, can you?”

The warrior shrugged. “What choice do we have?”

Kez sighed. “Yeah. I know.” Alone in the wilderness, miles and miles from any of their people, following a sleep-deprived seer to claim some impossible artifact… it was all insane. She’d thought about leaving. Just heading north, til she found another skein to take her in.

She knew how to hunt, how to cook, how to live. The others… Rys wouldn’t last a day. Tel might’ve been able to kill enough for a few days, but being injured, she wouldn’t last long either. And even then, neither of them could skin, prepare, or cook so much as a squirrel. Kez was the only one who could survive alone.

But she still needed them. If there were sharp-ears about, or those ones in red, or bears, or other bands… she’d be dead without Tel. And if she ever lost her path for even an hour, she’d be dead without Rys. And they without her.

They still needed each other. So no matter what any of them did, or didn’t do, they were stuck. Tel seemed to have already surmised this, her eyes searching Kez’s own for the same realization. The huntress swallowed. “How far did she say it would be?” she asked.

“A day at most,” the warrior replied.

“Alright.” Kez nodded. “We give her one day for this stupid, crazy story. And then we go back, with or without her.”

Tel’s face hardened. “I will not abandon her, Kez.”

“I’m not fucking asking you to,” she snapped, “Rys would be the one abandoning herself. She can do this seer-crap for the rest of her life, but I don’t want to die out here chasing some stupid lie.”

A stupid lie like either of them wanting you? She itched to stab that part of her mind with one of her new arrows.

“Then you may leave on your own,” the warrior said, “and I will stay.”

“What if we both try to leave, Tel?” The words came hotter, faster than she’d expected. “What if Rys wants to go off on her big dumb quest, and what if I want to just go the fuck home? Who are you going to abandon? Who are you supposed to protect?”

Tel said nothing. Kez couldn’t tell if it was restrained fury, or tempered sadness stewing behind her solid expression.

Pressing harder probably wouldn’t help either. “She lied to us. She tricked us. She manipulated us and used us. Why do you keep defending her, Tel?”

“Because that is my duty,” Tel said quietly.

“Then what the fuck about me? You’d let me die over a duty to a lie?”

“No.”

The warrior moved suddenly, squeezing both her arms, her face reddening and inches from Kez’s own. “Do not ever think that I would leave you. Do not ever think that you are allowed to die before I have laid my own life down.

“If I must tie you with ropes to keep you from leaving my side, I will. If I must carry you because your stubborn legs refuse to heed me, I will. I will restrain you if you endanger yourself. I will destroy anything else which tries.” She tried to take a breath to calm herself, but it only made her sound even more intimidating. “I cannot lose you, Kez. Not only because it is my duty, and not only because I would starve without you, but because you are my huntress, my skeinmate, and my friend.”

Kez knew she should have taken those words, held them close for years and years, treasured them and found all the warmth she could in them. She should have accepted them for what they were, allowed herself to be satisfied with them, given herself the permission not to fight the idea that someone cared for her.

And yet, she did not. “So what about Rys?”

Tel began to pale. “... Rys, she is…”

“Special,” Kez finished for her. The rest came spilling out, and she couldn’t stop it. “Inexpendable. Unique. Perfect. Beautiful.”

“Yes,” Tel said, and soft as the word was, Kez felt a damning weight in it, settling down on her, making her turn away, making her muscles tighten…

“You are as beautiful as she, Kez. Perhaps more. Perhaps…”

Oh.

“You’re both special,” the warrior said, severing that strand of thought, and her hand was on Kez’s face once more. But it was caressing, not just rubbing. And the huntress felt the need to look her in the eye. “You’re both inexpendable, unique, perfect, wonderful women, and I do not think I could spend one day without either of you… but you are truly special to me, Kez.”

“But you and she are—”

“Shhh.” A thumb pressing to her lips, so very soft. “Do you trust me, rabbit?”

She did. She really, truly did.

“Then believe me, in this, please. Believe me, and don’t think of it until we can speak alone, and speak freely, and… w-well, if you should like to, the two of us could perhaps discuss it…”

Oh.

Kez nodded, against Tel’s thumb and cradling hand. Her lips moved, a whisper of motion, a tiniest kiss against grooves and calluses. Both blushes deepened. Both women separated, and stood, and gathered their things, and glanced bashfully between hot, flushing, shivering bodies, before walking back wordlessly to their tent.

All while Kez’s head spun, and spun, and spun itself around, with a confused, nervous, and very warm smile on her face.

She’d been willing to give Rys a day to see out her fantasies. One more day of walking forever to try and quash her own flights of fantasy that kept spilling into her thoughts.

It hadn’t even taken ’til sundown. By late afternoon, they could spy the twisting coils of smoke rising up from over the ridge, growing nearer with each step that they took. Not that all steps were equal. Tel, for the first time, looked cautious in her approach: silent like the rest, but unnerved. Kez, herself, walked more nervously, glancing to the uneven gait that still persisted from Tel’s injuries.

But Rys walked ahead of them. The seer walked with more confidence than Kez had seen of her in all the days since they’d met. It might’ve even been inspiring, if they weren’t walking into her madcap dream.

Though from the color of the smoke, it was seeming more and more like a nightmare.

This impression was only strengthened once Kez crested the hill, joining her skeinmates at the top of the slope of white. She followed their gazes down, over the immaculate incline, across every gleaming speck of ice lit by the evening’s dying light. Perfect, and pristine. Nature at its most beautiful.

And then came the ring. A hundred feet across? More? It was all dirt and stones, sloping inward like a great ugly bowl. No snow, no scrub, just raw, disturbed earth.

And such a troubling sight was still nothing compared to the tents. A dozen? More? Kez could barely call them tents, for they looked nothing like those of the skeins: some boxy, some long, some circular, some held by ropes… and all of them colored with that familiar, sickening red. The same red as the helmets of the ones who’d tried to kill them, and the same red as their blood.

The huntress was at a loss for words. Tel was not, but only just barely. “By the ancestors,” she whispered. “What have they done?”

“Not them,” Rys spoke up, and lifted a finger toward the center of the circle. One round tent stood out—a banner whipped about in the air above it, making it taller than all the rest. “It’s there,” the seer said. “I can feel it.”

“And here it comes,” Kez muttered, but the others paid her no heed.

“The stone?” Tel asked, with an earnestness and softness that seemed all too wrong for the stupidity of the question she was asking. Or maybe it wasn’t wrong; maybe she sounded just stupid enough.

The seer nodded, confirming that suspicion. “I can see it. It’s so bright, and I… I can’t believe they got here first. B-but we’ve got to make a plan, we can—”

“We can leave,” Kez said.

Two sets of eyes stared at her like arrows, drawn and ready.

“What?” she said, spreading her arms. “Why the fuck shouldn’t we just go home?”

“We are home,” Tel began, “for we are a skein, and where—”

“Not the time for this, Tel.” Kez didn’t even do her the service of looking. Her eyes were fixed to Rys’. The hazel eyes looked anxious, hesitant, ponderous… but not fearful.

Tel moved around them while they stared, taking both the tent-poles off their backs and trudging off toward the way they came. “I will set the tent somewhere safe,” she said. “The two of you will sort out your differences.”

“Fat chance of that.” Kez spat on the ground, turned away from the seer’s unnerving look, and put her eyes on the encampment below. Tried to count heads, bodies, fires that they clustered around. Tried to count steel, bows, swords…

“You’re mad at me,” Rys said.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am,” Kez replied, keeping her gaze away from those eyes and that face. “You trying to say I shouldn’t be?”

“No,” she said. She sounded calm. Too fucking calm.

“Then you know that you fucked up.”

“Yes.”

“You lied to us. You betrayed us. We gave you our trust, and, you just smashed it to bits.”

“I did.”

“And now you want us to go down there, risk our lives again, just to get what you think is a magic rock that cut the sky in half, even though all those warriors who tried to kill us are down there, and they’re probably very angry that we killed their friends.”

“I do.” The slightest faltering in her voice. One Kez pounced on.

She turned, looked the seer in the eyes, growled out the words, “Why the fuck should we?” Before Rys could answer, “Because you need us? Because we need you? Because Tel’s already going to do whatever the fuck you say, so I might as well, too? Because you’re sorry?”

Her lip trembled, but she did not speak.

“What the fuck is it, Rys?” Kez felt the heat of her face, the heat of her words, the anger in every taut muscle. “Why?”

“... because everyone needs us,” Rys said.

The huntress blinked. “Come again?”

“Because it’s not just me, or you, or Tel we’re doing this for.” Rys sighed, rubbed her eyes with a hand that came away glistening. Kez realized then just how tired the seer looked. “I’ve already apologized, and I’m going to again,” she said. “And again, and again, for as long as you’re still my skeinmate. Every day. Every hour, if I must. For every year of my life.”

Well that’d be some consolation at least, Kez grumbled in her mind.

The seer’s hand reached out, catching the huntress’ before it could dart away, and she shut her eyes… but the squeeze she was anticipating did not come. Rys just held it. Kez opened her eyes, and saw the seer looking down into the camp again. “I care about you,” she said. “Both of you.”

“I know,” Kez found herself saying. “This… it isn’t all your fault, y’know.”

“I know.” A smile was on Rys’ lip. Fleeting. Unique, perfect, beautiful… and then it was gone, and the eyes were looking her way. “But a lot of it is.”

“On that we agree,” the huntress muttered. “Were you getting to a point?”

Another sigh, and Rys nodded. “Our elders only have eight stones left.”

“Eight?” Kez’s brow furrowed at the uncomfortable number. “That’s…”

“Enough for two more skeins, and then…”

“... and then what?” Kez shrugged. “What’s so important about these rocks?”

With her free hand, the seer reached into her coat and pulled out her stone. It was already lit with a light like the aurora, covered in so many symbols. Rys’ finger rubbed over them slowly. “Tradition, for one thing.”

“There’s always traditions. Some of them matter, some of them don’t.”

“This one does, Kez. All our heritage, all our ancestors… every stone records it all. All the seers who came before me, all the hunters and huntresses who came before you… this is how we remember them.”

Okay, Kez guessed that that was somewhat important.

“This is also how we seers use our power.”

“Come again?”

Her skeinmate smiled. “Did your seer-mother not teach you this?”

Kez frowned. “They didn’t tell me everything.”

“We seers do not own our power,” Rys began. “It is a gift, given to us by the ancestors, the aurora. The stones help us to remember them, to know their desires, to carry out their wishes.”

Kez chuckled. “So your seer-grandfather must’ve really wanted you to set that other seer on fire, yeah?”

Rys did not laugh. Rather, she blushed as bright as flame. Reflexively, Kez squeezed her hand. “Hey, I’m sorry, that was…”

“It’s okay. You don’t understand.”

“Well, I’m not magic like you, I think I’m allowed to not know everything, at least where that’s concerned,” Kez said, scratching the back of her neck.

The smile came back. “I think so, too. But without these stones, all of them given to us from the sky, we can’t focus that power. We can’t change the life or the energy in things, we can’t orient ourselves, we can’t…”

“Dream?”

“That too.”

Kez brought her hand to the front of her neck, pulled out the rock again. Her own was smaller, and not glowing at all. “No more stones means no more seers. I follow that. So why do I need one? I’ve got a good enough memory to keep track of all the names.”

Rys’ smile grew. “It’s so that I will never lose you.”

Ah.

She was still speaking, even as the warmth grew hotter in the huntress’ chest, “I’m sure it looks plain to you, but to me, it’s… brighter than any torch, stronger than any flame. It’s unique. It’s brilliant. It’s… well, it is you.”

“Ah,” Kez said distractedly.

“Is something the matter?” Rys drew closer.

“N-nothing,” Kez said, not moving away.

“Kez, I…”

“I get it,” the huntress said, mouth moving a mile a minute, “and I know I’m not gonna convince you or the big lug not to go in there, and I know it’s probably important, and yeah I’m still mad and you still lied to us but I-I don’t want to lose you either.”

Both of them bit their lips. Both of them blushed. And very hesitantly, very warmly, they felt each other’s hands. No squeezing, no magic, no power, just… two skeinmates, touching hands. That’s all. “You… you’re certain?” Rys said.

“Don’t make me fucking rethink it.”

“A-alright,” she laughed, pulling both her hands and body away, “I won’t. We’ll… we’ll need a plan.”

“Go in, get the rock, and get out.” Kez shrugged.

Rys blinked at the huntress. “That’s… w-well, yes, that’s what we’re going to do, but—”

“Go help Tel get set up,” she smiled. “I’ll figure things out here, bring back something to eat once I’ve finished.”

“By yourself?”

“You trust me?”

“Yes,” Rys said, with no hesitation.

“Then scram before I put an arrow in your behind instead.” A pause. “Kidding. Huntress joke.”

“I-I see,” Rys nodded slowly, standing and brushing herself off.

Kez was already turning away, putting her focus on the people. The warriors. The seer hadn’t moved. “You can follow the tracks, can’t you?”

“I can,” she said, from behind. “I… I’m sorry. Thank you, Kez.”

The huntress waited. “For?”

“Everything. For trusting me.”

“Don’t make me regret it,” Kez replied, and she heard the seer’s boots crunching away. Ten pace, twenty paces, fifty paces… it wasn’t until she heard nothing of Rys that she let out a breath, long and deep, something that had curled up inside of her. Something that had been lying, waiting for when it was quiet, when she was alone, when she was allowed to think. Something from last night.

The thoughts of Tel were still circling, too, but… Her hand still ached for that touch of Rys’. Her mind still ached to know, again, to feel, again, what had happened before. And between her legs, she just ached.

Something to think more about tonight, she decided.

“Hang on,” Kez said, interrupting the admittedly enthralling speech.

Rys paused with a quirked eyebrow. “Yes?”

“If you’re just going to do that, why in the ancestors’ names do I have to shoot them first?”

Rys sighed, and her eyes rolled as they had the last three times Kez had interrupted. “Because it’s not magic that can kill them, it’s… it’s just different! I’ve only been practicing on rocks and wood, so I can only imagine how exhausting it would be on a human being, with all the blood and energy and—”

“Okay, fine,” the huntress shook her head, “I’ll shoot them, you’ll handle… that, and then?”

“I take care of everything else,” Tel grunted, to irate looks from both of her skeinmates.

“I’ve already proved that I can kill shit, Tel,” Kez said.

“And I have to make certain there aren’t any messes, else they’ll just chase us down and…”

As Rys trailed off blushing, Kez was eager to pick up the thread once more, turning to face the warrior where she was sat across the fire. “Point is,” she said, “we’re not letting you do everything alone because it’s dangerous and because you’re, well...”

Tel’s brow rose a fraction. “Well?” she asked.

“You’re…” Kez began.

“Messy?” Rys put in.

“Noisy,” the huntress added.

“Very noisy,” the seer confirmed.

Tel frowned at this. “I had not noticed.”

“Seriously?” Kez asked. “You yell. Like a lot.”

Then the frown broke into a smile. “When I am fighting, volume is near the least of my concerns, dear rabbit.”

Rabbit. Kez felt as though she should be steaming, raging, ready to punch something yet again… but all she felt was warm, uncomfortably so. Dear rabbit. Even worse.

Thankfully, Rys distracted from her awkwardness by a moment of awkwardness herself—the seer shifted before standing up, dusting herself off and making for the exit of the tent.

“Rys,” Tel said, all three waited in the pregnant pause that followed. “You are going to continue your practice?”

“Yes,” the seer said softly.

“Do not stray far.”

“I-I won’t.”

“Good.”

And then it was she and Tel alone in the tent. Kez wasn’t quite sure if that was more or less awkward and fluster-filled than the exchange that had just occurred, but her cheeks certainly felt as much. Or maybe that was just the fire. And the fact that they were still wearing clothes—that sure was unusual, and being naked did sound very nice, or, maybe it was Tel being naked that sounded very nice, because that probably sounded more than very nice, and—

“Kez.”

“Uh?”

The warrior smiled, and Kez’s heart fluttered madly in her chest. “Do you feel ready?”

“Y-yeah, of course.” Total lie. The grin she put on her lips probably didn’t sell it well either. “What about you?”

Tel sighed. “Perhaps. Perhaps not.”

“That’s not an answer,” Kez said.

Then the warrior shrugged. “I do not always possess the knowledge that you are so gluttonous for, rabbit.” Her tone, face, posture—almost everything Kez could see about Tel changed as soon as the huntress felt herself beginning to blush and turn away. “I… hope that I am not making you uncomfortable, Kez,” Tel murmured. Reserved. Apologetic. Even timid.

“You’re not,” Kez said, glancing over into green eyes, so deep and so bright at once.

“Ah.”

For some time, their eyes danced. Glances went everywhere: to the fire, to the tent’s walls, to the hand and the wrist caught together, to lips, to ears, to braids, to clothes and those things beneath, but these gazes never lingered. Only when their eyes locked together did Kez feel a need to hold that moment, and not to let it go.

The huntress was first to break the spell. “E-earlier, you said…”

“Yes?” She sounded almost excited.

Kez swallowed. “W-well, you said.”

A smirk, an honest-to-the-ancestors smirk, was on Tel’s lip. “I said?”

“You said when we were alone we could discuss it?” The words came out so fast.

Tel nodded her head. Still. Smirking. “I did say that… so what is it you’d like to discuss, rabbit?”

Kez couldn’t take it anymore. With a groan, a hand grabbing the wrist of the hand that held her wrist, and a full scrabbling that all but threw her into the warrior’s side, coming to an abrupt and cross-legged stop at her shoulder and staring daggers into those surprised, stunning, smiling green eyes. “You know what I mean,” she said, with a hiss in her breath that could’ve been some bile, or exhaustion, or… something to do with the two skeinmates’ very close proximity.

Now it was the warrior’s turn to be on the back foot. Just where Kez wanted her. “I do… th-that’s true,” she said, with that stammer that was so… well, Kez didn’t think Tel could possibly be adorable, nor could a stammer be that sexual, but whatever it was, it was somewhere in between those two extremes.

The huntress’ turn to smirk. “Tell me, then, if you’re so smart.”

“Rys is the most knowledgeable one of our number.”

“But you just said you knew.”

“I did.”

“So?”

The warrior sighed, defeated. “You wish to speak of… specialness.”

“Yes,” Kez said, quick as her heartbeat.

“And beauty.”

“Yes.”

“And how I… how I believe that you possess these things in great quantity.”

The huntress laughed, and soon both of them were giggling with embarrassment. “Yes, Tel, for fuck’s sakes. Those are… the things I want to talk about.” She set her hand on the warrior’s arm, larger than her own.

“May I ask… why?”

Kez swallowed. “B-because I also think you’ve got a lot of those things?”

Tel blinked down at her. “Do you?” Then, before Kez could spout an objection, “I-I don’t mean to sound so skeptical, but I… yet I had never assumed that you might find those traits within… one such as myself.”

Realization struck Kez like an arrow in the neck. “You think I’m straight?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Yes.” Kez paused. “Well, no.” She frowned. “Well, really, it’s more complicated than that, because, uh…”

“Because you have never taken the opportunity, dear rabbit?”

Two words, two simple words and all the huntress’ cultivated composure was replaced with blushing and heat and rumbling in her guts. “Th-that is none of your concern!”

Tel put both hands up immediately, her face paling, her lips moving quickly, “I’m sorry,” she said.

That look of fear, fear of having fucked everything up with just a few words… Kez had felt it on her own face before, and she let her anger slough off of her with a sigh. “No, I am. I’m… just sensitive. Sometimes. A-about certain things.”

“Of course,” the warrior said, and slowly those raised hands came to rest on either of the huntress’ shoulders. Kneading gently. Working the frown and uncomfortable heat on her face into a smile and embarrassing warmth. “But, should you ever desire such… certain things…”

“Wh-what about Rys?” Kez blurted out.

Tel’s hands paused. “You think that she would begrudge us our relations?”

Relations? This was all moving so fast, too fast to keep up with. The huntress shook her head. “No, I mean, she doesn’t sleep. You remember she said that? How she doesn’t sleep?”

“I do…” Tel slowly nodded, utterly missing the point.

One of Kez’s hands, very gently, smacked the warrior’s cheek, drawing a grin to her face. “Fool. If she never sleeps, then we could never…”

“Y-you are speaking of…”

“W-well, yeah, weren’t you…?”

“I suppose that I was, and yet I did not think it would be—”

“Reciprocated?”

“Yes.”

“Me either,” Kez breathed, and realized her hand was on Tel’s cheek, and Tel’s hand was on her cheek, and their foreheads and lips were very very close together. The huntress swallowed. “W-we shouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not,” the warrior agreed. Neither moved.

“Tonight is too important.”

“The plan. We each must see to it.”

“Exactly.”

“Yes.”

“Yeah,” Kez whispered, then… “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Oh shit.”

“Kez?”

The huntress’ grin only grew. “Oh this is too good.”

“You are worrying me.”

“You are blushing.”

Tel’s eyes grew wide. Her hand left Kez’s cheek, and touched her own, then darted away as if she’d shoved it into a bed of hot coals. “I-I am not.”

“You so are!” the huntress protested.

“I am—”

Snow crunched under a boot. Closeness dissolved, hands flew to sides, warmth burned brightly into the heat of embarrassment, and after Rys rejoined them, yawning and apparently aching, the two skeinmates shared only nervous smiles, as they went over the plan one more time before night fell.

Their plan, such as it was, didn’t deviate too far from Kez’s original idea.

Go in. That was the easy part. The camp had no walls or fortifications of any kind. The patrols would be an issue, of course—several of their warriors were on watch at any given moment. But observing them from the hill was like watching beasts in the woods: they had needs, routines, and they were predictable that way. The two guard postings near the west end were the best wager, and it would be easy to take them by surprise after nightfall.

Because it would have to be after nightfall. Not merely because they’d only gotten into the process of deciding and planning when the sky was orange with evening light, but also because they needed to be seen by as few eyes as possible. The ancestors’ lights would make that slightly difficult. Rys said they were all but guaranteed to come out, but they’d have to make do. No telling how long the camp would remain for, and it was only a matter of time for their own tent to be tracked down by patrols, like the one they’d encountered days before.

Get the rock. That part was easier. The biggest, roundest tent had the stone inside, so that’s where they’d go. It’d probably be guarded, but maybe a distraction would clear the way? Or something? Maybe?

Admittedly, the easiest part of the plan was also probably the weakest. But whatever. They had no time. They’d figure it out on the go.

And get out. Easy. Head back the way they came, make sure nobody sees them coming out of the ditch, hoof it to the tent, leave before sun-up the next morning. Then walk north, north, and more north, until they got back, and the Trial was done, and they could do whatever they want without needing to worry about the future of their people or getting killed by more scouts.

Easy.

Right.

No, it would be.

No. It had to be.

Which was why Kez was lying there, half buried in the snow, freezing her ass off waiting for the right moment because some ancestor up there decided her skein would be the lucky one to go get the gift that would ensure the preservation of their society for years to come all while Rys was lying there next to her way too close way too warm and Tel was on the other side staring ahead with that great big glayve (glaive?) in her hands, looking like some monster ready to kill something and, technically, Kez figured she did too, with the bow drawn, the arrow pulled back to her chest, leveled at the man’s throat some twenty meters off, he hadn’t seen them, he hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary, he wouldn’t, and as soon as he started yawning and leaning back Kez started breathing hard, and slow, hard, and slow, pulling the string back even tighter, hard, and slow, staring and adjusting and trembling, hard, and slow, feeling Rys give the signal, hard, and slow, saying the prayer,

and letting go. The arrow flew, and sang, louder and longer than her gasp, and pinned the man through the throat. He fell, like she’d cut some thread that was holding him up on his feet. And the other guard, the one who’d been taking a piss, well he turned around, but by then she’d drawn, hard, and slow, she’d aimed, hard, and slow, he opened his lips, hard and slow, she said the prayer,

and letting go. Sailing, screaming, the bolt caught him in the cheek, plunged through his tongue before it could do more than choke out a groan. He fell, too.

And Rys was up, her hands flying, the dirt and stones on the ground thrumming and shifting to match her will, the ancestors’ desires. The two men were swallowed up by the earth, entombed. Like they were never there. It was far more harrowing than the way Rys had described it earlier, and Kez found herself staring at the seer, slack-jawed. All Rys could do was shrug, panting from the exertion of it. “What?” she said between gasps, “They’re already dead, aren’t they?”

Whatever. No time to get terrified.

And Tel was running, up to the back of the closest tent, brandishing her weapon, looking for any witnesses, finding none. She motioned.

And both of them were running. Joining the warrior, hiding in the shadows, listening to…

Fires crackling.

“... you see the major…”

“... looking like shit, I tell you…”

Scant conversation.

Snoring.

“... oh, fuck…”

“... mmm, gods, you taste…”

Moaning?

Ancestors’ tits. Kez nearly laughed out loud, and nudged the others to go faster. Tel gave her a look for this, but the huntress just shrugged, no time to blush over it. At least it meant two less of them to fight.

The skein crept forward: Tel in the lead, Rys at the center, Kez at the back, an arrow nocked and ready. They’d each memorized the layout, they knew which tents they had to pass to get to their destination. And it was going fine, ’til they came to the first trodden path.

Those encamped had lit torches, once evening came along. None between the tents, where they would be a fire hazard, where the three women were crouched and waiting, but enough to light up the path before them. They just had to cross this stretch unseen, then it’d be a straight path through darkness to the stone.

But there were people there. Every time it seemed deserted, someone would step out from a tent, yawn, do something stupid like scratch their crotch or run hands through hair or stretch some limb, and then amble right past the skein’s hiding spot. None of them looked, which was good if they wanted to keep their eyeballs intact, but they’d probably spot them if three skeinmates just wandered across the road. And then they’d probably start shouting, and then she and Tel and Rys would all probably die.

Not a good idea. She told them as much, or more, with animated gestures.

A distraction would get them across, but it’d alert all of the warriors around them. But there was really no other way to get through safely. Kez was just about to start launching arrows through the torch flames to set the whole place on fire when she saw Rys, staring upward, mouth open wide with the stone under her coat shining so bright its glow came up to color her neck in shades of blue.

Kez looked up. The aurora was out, after all. Greens, blues, purples. Ribbons and banners waving across the sky, brighter than the moon and the stars behind them.

And red. Red wasn’t normal. One of the ribbons had a scar, a bleeding gash, angry crimson light staining the sky. Cutting down from the top of it all, growing in brightness and intensity as it pointed straight towards her, like an accusing finger.

“So that’s how you cut light,” Kez whispered. But she could barely be heard for the ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ noises all around her. Not the sounds of humping this time, but of amazement and wonder, wordless and universal. These were a people easily impressed, it seemed. And with all their eyes on the skies… Tel and Rys seemed to have the same idea.

It didn’t much matter that the pitch darkness had gone away. The ancestors’ lights were brighter even than the flaming torches, and no one noticed three bundled shapes running from shadow to shadow. They were getting closer. Up to a circular tent, a smaller one, but covered in symbols that not even Rys recognized. Lights shone from within, but they didn’t flicker like fire. Best to play it safe.

Tel went left around it, taking Rys in tow. Kez went right. No silhouettes inside, so she assumed she was safe to just skirt around. Everything was going smoothly. Really smoothly. The plan was working, they hadn’t been seen, there wasn’t even any suspicion to their presence. They’d have the stone soon, and they’d be back in the tent just as swiftly, and maybe then Rys could get some sleep, and Tel would sidle over, blushing in that strange way, naked but for those red and sweating bindings, needing a hand, or two hands, or two hands and lips and tongue and—

someone spoke a word, no clue what it was, down an alley to her right. She wheeled around, pulled the arrow all the way back, didn’t even breathe or pray as she—

let it fly. Right towards the head, smiling as soon as it was out of her fingers, waiting for that fleshy sound to let her know that it—

bounced off? No, nothing nearly so impressive. She’d missed. Shot went wide, fell into the dirt, one more arrow wasted. No matter, she was already pulling up another one, taking the moment to pray this time, maybe now the ancestors would...

She heard the high-pitched song before the arrow even left her fingers.

She heard that fleshy sound.

Shit.

Her bow, and her arrow fell out of her hands. Down, down with the rest of her, onto her knees with a cry.

Her eyes rolled left, blurring, trembling, saw the arrow shot through her coat, straight into the muscle and sinew of her arm that screamed with pain, and… and then were numb. Tingly. Strange. Like the feeling in her chest. And her throat. And her eyes. And her head.

And she pitched forward. And she saw blackness. And she hit the ground.

And she felt nothing at all.