The ritual began again. Laurel entered his room, bearing her tray of oils and herbs and soft cloth to tend Bear's wounds. He watched her seem to float across to a low table by the window. She fluidly knelt to set her tray down, then gathered up her short shift and pulled it off over her head. Her movements were slow and patient, as in all things. She folded the shift neatly and set it aside, safe from ruin by the oils she was about to handle.

Laurel's long raven silk was drawn back into a braid, resting along her sleek spine. She sat on her feet in the sunlight, which made her pale golden skin even more so. Her dark almond eyes looked up to Bear, catching his gaze on her. She was smooth and rounded but not overly so, with only the softest swell of breasts. Her limbs were slight and flexible as willow branches. Her hand extended up toward Bear and fingers drifted open like a lotus blossom to bid him come and sit before her, as he had done before, so she might apply her healing.

Bear wore only his leather thong, to also spare his leggings from the oils, and lowered himself to the floor, mindful of flexing his back too much. Laurel's work was excellent, but not miraculous. In the three days she had been coming to see him, Bear was healing but still his back was quite raw and muscles tight.

His caretaker's voice was as soft and soothing as her hands. First she set loose his hair then braided it back again, to make sure all the strands were caught up and would not impede her work. She gently lay the thick braid across his shoulder out of her way then spoke a gentle warning to Bear that she would now apply the oils. After the initial pain of her touch, Bear concentrated on her voice so she might continue her work without hindrance.

As she gingerly worked oils into his skin, laurel had at first told him of the oils she used and what properties they have for soothing and healing and reducing possible scars. She spoke of the Calendula flower from which they were made and had brought him one of the golden-orange blossoms. She had recounted parts of her life as the daughter of a spice trader from the Orient, though she said very little of how she got from there to here, in the service of the Castle. Bear did not push. He understood not wanting to delve into certain parts of one's past.

This day, laurel involved him in a discussion of poetry. She had, in her childhood, much opportunity to hear the traveling poets and minstrels. She'd always found it a welcome escape from the rush of her father's trade business. It afforded her time to sit and contemplate and enjoy 'being', rather than hurrying over life's questions to the next marketplace.

As the sun stretched their two shadows across the floor of Bear's room, their quiet discussion came to a close. Laurel had completed her work, more quickly than the days before.

Bear turned his head to speak over his shoulder to her. "We are finished?"

"No. I've been instructed to take you to the Hot Spring today." There was hesitance in her voice. Bear had little trouble going where her thoughts had gone. If he was immersed in a hot spring, whatever pain he might have felt on the day she first worked the oils on his skin would seem nothing, compared to hot churning mineral water beating against the wounds.

Just as carefully as he had lowered himself, Bear rose to his feet again and held out his hand to help laurel stand too. He insisted that she let him carry her tray, which she reluctantly allowed. To his surprise, laurel didn't put her shift on again. She wiped her hands thoroughly then carefully picked up the shift and lay it across her arm as she drifted in her soft steps toward the door. He was a few steps behind her, caught up in watching the gentle sway of her braid along her back, the smooth shifting of her rounded pale buttocks and the grace of a dancer in her measured steps. Thus they leisurely made their way from his room, from Amethyst Tower, through the Great Hall and down into the Dungeon, to the Hot Spring.

Laurel bid Bear to wait as she took her tray and shift back to her room in the Cellar. When she returned, her deep brown eyes looked up into his gray ones. There was something apologetic in her gaze. Her business was healing and the special qualities of this Hot Spring would help do that, but she knew it would not be easy.

She stepped close to Bear and slid her hands around his waist. Her body pressed against his, her nipples against his chest as her fingers undid the strap of his thong. Rather than let the leather drop, she drew it away in her hands, always keeping her fingers against him. Bear lowered his head to smell the floral fragrance of her black silken hair. He felt stirrings at her caressing touch. One hand came up to brush her cheek as he whispered against her ear, "I know what you're doing."

With her soft voice, he could barely hear her above the sound of the bubbling spring. "You must let me." She drew back and dropped the leather to the stone floor then turned to take a careful first step into the hollowed rock that received the steaming waterfall. Slowly she found a ledge that left her standing in churning hot water above her waist. Bear had watched. He could judge the heat of the water by her movements, by her sharp intake of breath, making her breasts rise and fall. She now looked up at him from her deep brown almond eyes and extended her hand for him to join her.

It was actually soothing to his legs after the first shock of temperature. Of course, each time he moved, there was another moment of intense heat and then his skin adjusted again. As he found his own lower ledge to stand on and the hot water bubbled around his stirring flesh, he took a quick breath too. In a moment though, he found it was comforting, exhilarating. Still, only in up to his waist, he had not yet immersed more than the slightest of wounds on his lower back. He watched laurel as she cupped water up over her breasts and droplets slid across her skin. He could not yet do it. He could not make himself sink into the water, knowing the heat and water's motion would torture his wounds.

Laurel watched these thoughts pass across his gray eyes. She shook her head and mouthed to him. "You must let me." She drew his hands into hers and cupped beneath them into the water then pulled them to her breasts. Bear grinned and let his fingers play over her, thumbs teasing her nipples. Laurel's fingers caressed from his hands up to his shoulders then traced inward along his collar bone. She stepped to him and pressed her body against his. Because she was standing on a surface slightly above his, they stood face to face. Her warm wet fingers traced along his jaw as her eyes searched his. Her breasts and tummy pressing against him were hot from the water and warmed his own skin. Her hips and thighs shifted against his, beneath the water's surface, stirring the heat around them and within. She felt Bear begin to press more and more firmly against her.

His voice had gone husky as he asked, above the sound of the waterfall and the churning heat, "You were instructed to do this as well?"

Tiny beads of perspiration made her pale golden face glisten in the natural glow of the spring. She nodded with a soft smile. "Mistress' bidding." Laurel then leaned more against Bear, slipping her fingers around to the back of his neck, and pressed a sucking kiss beneath his jawline. He felt her weight shifting to him. Though slight enough, he let it draw him lower into the water. The first stings were hardly noticeable as laurel continued to distract him, but he could only allow himself to relax his stance, not descend. His hands went around her waist then beneath her cheeks as she drew her legs up in the water to wrap herself around his hips.

She was skilled. As his stiffness grew from her attentions and her writhing body against him, laurel worked to position her hips for him. Her arms wrapped his neck, careful not to touch the slashes extending near his shoulders. She needed very little support, with the water and his hands beneath her. Bear was curling around her. His mouth tasted her shoulder. He tried to forget their real purpose here and take the help laurel sought to give, had been commanded to give.

The hot water continued to swirl about them, between them, even as laurel felt Bear's hardness press between her thighs. She worked against him, wanting to make him forget about the wounds and the steam and the hot churning water as she teased the tip of him, inviting him in. She still felt his distraction until she took a sucking bite at his neck, just below his ear. She heard her muffled moan echoed from him as he finally pressed inside her, pausing them both for a moment before he proceeded to find her depth. His hands pulled her against him. He felt her breasts shift against his chest in her panting response as he began his slow strokes. They worked easily together within the water but not all of Bear's movement was controlled. At times the hot water would splash up on his wounds and make him thrust out of rhythm to escape the sting, but always, laurel gasped her own surprised pleasure against his ear.

As they quickened together, heightened by the steam of the spring and the added motion of the water, laurel drew back to look into his face. Bear lifted his eyes to see her concern and grinned his half grin but there was mostly resignation in it. It must be done. He swallowed hard then laurel leaned suddenly to devour his mouth, even as her hips and tightness deep within, worked to urge him, to push him to release.

Bear felt the pressure build and force the last of his reservations from his mind. He had to give himself to laurel's body and eventually to the water. He closed his eyes tightly and worked to force out the sound and feel of bubbling heat. He concentrated on the feel of her body against him, of her tightness parting for him with each inward thrust and reluctantly allowing his partial withdrawal to thrust again. The quickening became pressure and swelling urge and consuming need, til he felt laurel shudder against him. Immediately the depth of her grasped at him and pulled him with her until their bodies convulsed together.

While his mind was still adrift and pain was a vaporous thought, he let his weakened legs relax with her weight and his own. Another strong convulsion struck him. His arms slid upward and hugged around her waist. He buried his face against her shoulder. He held tight to her, as if she could spare him, but of course, she could not. He was still inside her but the force of his deep moan against her neck was not from their joining. It was the shock of his tender back feeling scalded by bubbling harsh water. He hissed and pulled his hips back from her, slipping out of her as they settled to their knees. Each still perched on their own ledge, hers elevated enough to hold to him, to let her fingers caress his neck and his face.

Laurel was near tears for him. She knew how painful this must be. He had no voice. He barely had breath as the water engulfed him to his shoulders. She helped as she could, now steadying him within the constantly moving water. She gently wiped beads of sweat from his face, not all from the heat. She spoke against his cheek. "Be still now. Let the water work." He needed no reminder to be still. Any movement at all intensified the swirling heat. He held to her still and rested his face against her neck, trying to convince himself that the pain would ease soon.

Eventually he became accustomed to the heat and flinched less. Laurel judged from her own fatigue how long they could stay in the spring. The heat and sound and frothing movement soon became dangerously lulling. It was a mild shock but welcome, for Bear to again have cool air upon his now steaming skin. Laurel steadied him out of the spring and fetched a towel to gently dry him and herself. When she stepped in behind him to view his back, she smiled. She could already see what the magical powers of the spring had wrought. The cuts she had been working on were still there but noticeably healthier, softer, lighter. As she gently patted him dry, she was sure that only the deepest one or two lashes would leave a scar. He would still need to be cautious, for a while, but he would no longer suffer so much.

As laurel stepped back around to face him and squeezed water from his braid with the towel, she looked up to see his half grin. In it, she also saw his relief. He leaned to kiss her forehead. "My thanks." Laurel actually giggled. It was unusual for her to do so. "Just doing the Mistress' bidding." She neatly folded the damp towel and lay it over her arms then bowed from the waist to Bear. "You'll be able to return to duties on the morrow. For now, you are to retire to your room and rest."

"More biddings from the Mistress?"

"Of course." Laurel smiled and tilted her head as she enjoyed the new comfort visible in his expression, feeling she had served well. Then, she walked away to her room in the Cellar, while Bear watched. At that moment, he didn't feel much like resting. He felt better than he had since Rivello's visit to the Castle, but by the time he got back to the Amethyst Tower and his quarters, he found that sleep was there waiting for him.

(Click on candle to return to the Great Hall)

Hot Spring

Bear9: Diversion

Grace of Passion
Summons