For as long as I can remember, I have loved the feel of silk against my skin. I’m sure that at some point in my infant stage I was wrapped entirely in the subtle fabric, spurning what would be a life-long love of wonderful cloth. Though it sounds silly I believe that a silk blanket or robe is as close to bliss as one could get, and it’s sheer texture makes one feel as if they’re wearing the wind itself. It subtly grips and tugs at only the most delicate of corners, while it slides gracefully along any area that is in need of any slack. It fits perfectly to all forms without restricting or chaffing, and the feel of it as it slips through one’s fingers is totally indescribable. Of all the fabrics I’ve ever felt it is easily the greatest, as leather is too rough and cotton too easily torn. In addition, neither of them provide the almost sensual feel that silk so readily gives. Having your bare body wrapped in silk is akin to being in the grasp of God himself; feeling both vulnerable and safe, and feeling both pure and quite sensual. It brings up a large amount of conflicting emotions, the mind and soul thrown past a torrent of feelings by something as simple as a piece of lowly fabric. The soft texture of silk may remind one of an old lover, and how their skin passed just as easily over the fingertips. It’s beauty may remind one of a sunset, perhaps the first sunset they can remember seeing. It’s fluid grace may remind them of the waves of the ocean, rippling so gently with each subtle, delicate motion. It’s no wonder it’s the world’s most sought-after fabric, and I thank the powers that be that I was born into a wealthy enough family to reap it’s benefits. Though these words may make me out to be an arrogant princess, I can’t imagine anything that could so totally relax me as the fine grip of a smooth silk blanket, or my simple, sheer silk robe. Though to keep decent I protect my body with a layer of cotton underneath my green silken robe, though at almost all times it only aches to be in the grasp of the kinder fabric. I may have an unnatural obsession with something as trivial as a cloth, but¼ my obsession is not totally unfounded.

Well¼ it was, until recently. A few mere weeks ago, I was given a new reason to worship the fabric¼ a new memory connected to it. Now when I wrap my naked form in the loving feel of silk, I can also imagine the loving grip of my lover, her arms replacing the once irreplaceable texture.

Allow me to start from the beginning.

I was born Riddelea Viper, but I can’t remember a time I was called by my full first name. Instead my name is simply Riddel, the frail daughter of the leader of the Termina army. My family history is neither interesting or of consequence to my tale, so I feel that for the time being it is best to not mention it. It is easily stated that I am merely a Princess, the daughter of a kingly figure that was never really allowed to live for herself. I was sheltered from danger and guarded from evil by my father and his allies, only allowed to see the rage of battle through powerful binoculars at the top of our castle. Though I was never so ostentatious as to wish to join the fray I was naturally intrigued, curious at even a very young age why so many young men and women chose to die because we told them to fight. I suppose at heart some women like myself are closet warriors, but my only desire was to understand a reason for all the fighting. I had no intention to join, and at that point had never even killed so much as a mouse. For many years I considered myself too weak, too frail to ever take the life of a creature any higher than an insect, and it wasn’t until the winds of fate changed my life that I realized the true strength I had.

The story of my journey is far too long to go into, and as is the case with my family history, very much irrelevant. The story I’ve experienced may be known to some, but for those that don’t know me let it suffice to say that I journeyed with many great people, and together we fought many powerful enemies. During my travels with my trustworthy friends lives were lost both good and bad, and we all swam in a well of confusion, as we couldn’t find the reasons for our struggle. In time things came together, and we changed this world and a world beyond our own. If I were to tell you the details of my story you would call me a liar, so I'll refrain from such yarn spinning and state the bare facts. During this great journey I met a woman.

The first time I met her was not under the best of circumstances, and sometimes I can still feel the cold of her knife pressed into my throat. The thought still makes me smile, for though it was pressed it was done so by the blunt edge, and though the metal was chilling it was far from painful. While he knife was at my throat her free hand clenched both of mine, my two tiny wrists had fit inside her one large palm. As soon as I was taken by her I recognized her strength, and I reacted to it with a mixture of fear and exhilaration. Though my body trembled at the possibility of death, my insides shivered with a strange sensation I had never felt before. I would later go on to feel it many more times in many more situations, but this is the first time in my life I can ever remember feeling so¼ vulnerable. A large part of me liked it.

But as much as my body liked it my mind quivered in fear, and it was only through my captor’s words was I eased back into sanity. My muscles relaxed and my mind was gently calmed, as she whispered into my ear words of safety, and a promise that she had no intention of hurting me. It was those kind words that I would always remember, and words that later made me decide to follow her in her journeys. For I could tell she was a good woman, as good as any I’ve met, and that her heart was as pure as the outside was rough.

I’m not sure¼ but I think I fell in love with Kid that night, as she held the blade to my throat.

To shorten a longer story I will skip ahead, to after the war we had waged against evil. Our enemies fallen and our quest now done, we lived in a world that was peaceful for all. No longer did the dark shadows threaten our lives, and no more did we feel the dark, oppressive thumb of hatred forced upon our backs. The world was happy, and in that happy world I left my friends, to return to my country alongside my father.

The land of Termina was rebuilt to its former glory and then some. My father had regained a new wisdom he had previously lacked, and became a better ruler for the journey. Our people were no longer the least bit concerned, and the great name of our ancestors regained the honor that they had just so recently lost.

In a rebuilt castle I stood in a refurbished room one night, nearing the end of the November month. It was cold out, but not as cold as it should have been, and my window was left ajar just a crack so I could let my lungs fill with the fresh air of my country. My bedroom was beautifully furbished and filled with the gifts of countless dignitaries and princes, men hopeful of taking the hand of the lady of Termina. Needless to say the presents laid collected with dust, and the only things in my room I used frequently were my bed, and the silk sheets I had grown so accustomed to wearing. Though I enjoyed my time on the road I often missed the comforts, and the weakness of my frail body was apparent, as I occasionally moaned for food or for rest. I wouldn’t trade my adventure for anything, but I so did love to be back home, within the silk sheets I have loved since birth.

I was curled deep near the head of my bed, my arms and legs tucked tight to my chest, when I felt a ripple throughout my silk sheets. With a start I rose, the words of a magic spell already on my lips, as I knew that someone had made contact with my covers. I knew it wouldn’t have been a chambermaid or a butler, since they would have been preceded by a knock, so my mind assumed the worst. When I finally rose to face the intruder that had so callously entered the bedchamber of Termina’s Lady, my words fell to nothing and my eyes went vacant.

She was standing there, watching me, and behind her I could see the window that I had left ajar, now completely open. She was dressed just as I had remembered her from our journeys, draped all in red with occasional gold trim, with large bulky gloves and a wide bladed knife hanging limply at her side. I smiled faintly as I saw her, and instinctively drew the covers up to my naked chest as I spoke.

“Kid!” My voice was initially surprised and somewhat worried. “Wh¼ What are you doing here?”

She only looked at me with her standard sideways glance, and a smirk so wide it nearly consumed her face. She drew one of her hands up to her thin strands of blonde hair, and tossed them away from the line of her eyes. She took another step forward, and as she did so she took both hands to one another, and began to remove her gloves.

“Bugger¼ ” Her voice was just as I remembered, and a part of me shivered as I heard the gruff, tomboyish tone. “Ya honestly think I woulda jest left ya alone, after everything?”

I tilted my head to regard her, and gave a slight shrug. Though we were friendly we were by no means best friends during the journey, as for the period of time we spent together with the group was rather short, and we never worked as closely together as I would of liked. My shoulders rose and fell gently, and I kept the silk sheet clutched to my chest.

“I don’t know.” I replied, and slowly shook my head. “Why would you come back here?” I had noticed that Kid had finished with her gloves, and they now laid down at the bottom of my bed. The young woman stepped closer towards me, and then flopped heavily down on my bed. She sat right down beside my knees, and then leaned over towards me, a hand pressing down into the thickness of my mattress.

“Because I’ve seen ya, Riddel.” Her voice was calm and relaxing, and had I not been in her vision I would have closed my eyes to savor it.

“Because I’ve seen ya, watchin’ me.” Her voice continued, and I tilted my head to listen with interest. “I’ve seen ya watchin’ me fight¼ and I’ve seen ya watchin’ me eat.” For a moment I was scared, but then I felt her hand drop and rest upon my right knee, through the silk of my sheet.

“Don’ know how they do things in Termina¼ ” Kid continued, and craned her neck from side to side. “But where I come from, when a lass can’t stop the starin’, it means she’s takin’ an interest.”

Suddenly I felt red heat course through my cheeks, and I held my hands up to them, to protect the blush. My elbows pressed against my chest to hold the sheets in place over my bare body, and I turned away, wishing to hide my face from this marvelous creature.

“Oh, God¼ I¼ ” My throat had gone dry, and I could already fill my eyes begin to swell with the starting of tears. Through all the battles, I had turned up as nothing more than just another weepy princess, unable to care for herself or keep her fragile emotions in check. My throat went tight, and I winced inwardly. “I’m so¼ so sorry, Kid¼ ” I could feel my heart pound hard against my chest, and my entire body felt like it was tying into a knot, a deeply formed knot that would be unable to be pried apart with a hundred years’ work. I pressed my palms deep into my face, and as I felt the knot tie inside of me, tears struck the inside of my hands. I don’t know how long I stayed that way, for in that time I became obsessed with the knot that formed in me, and it was for a long time that I was only aware of its existence, and what it demanded of me. Time was blurred, but eventually I felt the knot untie, slowly unwhirling and untwisting, being cut and slashed in the hardest tied areas. My body knew what was happening before my mind did, so I have no idea for how long it had been there, but when I at last opened my eyes and looked towards Kid once again, she was laying on the bed beside me, with her arms both around my waist.

Looking at her, my mind reeled in wonder upon how I couldn’t notice her motion. I was so wrapped up in my worry and pain that my ears couldn’t pick up the sound of her movement, nor could my waist feel it as she wrapped her powerful arms around my tiny form. When I finally uncovered my eyes, I saw that her face was only two inches from mine, and she, like myself, was laid on her side, so that she could face me. Both of our heads rested in the same pillow, and both of our hair had fallen down, slightly covering the eye closest to the ceiling. Though the knot was untied I trembled, and kept the silk sheet close to my form, yet somewhat frightened of what would happen next.

“Don’t be sorry, lass.” Kid’s voice was comforting, her normal voice accented with a soft texture for the quiet the moment dictated. “Because I wouldn’t of known you were watching me...” And with this she reached up, and pressed one of her bare fingers under my left eye, where a tear had formed. She took the tear into her finger, and then slowly drug it along until it brushed across the middle of my lips. My body felt cold.

“I wouldn’t of known you were watching me,” She repeated herself, in a softer tone yet. “If I didn’t have an eye on you, too.” And with that, her head began to lean forward, and her lips pressed down upon mine, right where the tear still lingered on my pale lips.

The coldness in my form and the chill in my body melted, and I opened my lips freely into the kiss she placed on my mouth. As if I was freed from the tightest of shackles I moved my arms swiftly and yearningly, and I felt my palms cradle the back of her neck, pulling her closer into a kiss. My eyes closed, and though I saw nothing of what she looked like during the kiss, I will never forget it. I can still taste her lips on my own, and when I close my eyes I can almost pretend...pretend that she’s back with me now, holding me in that bed, her lips barely touched along mine.

For a while our lips played, and tension melted away into passion, and soon passion melted away to desire. Before long our hands were exploring one another’s bodies, and though we spoke nothing else of what we felt, everything had already been said. Kid’s hands pressed down into the soft flesh of my back, and I hugged her freely without sheet to cover me, my breasts pressing against the harsh fabric of her leather chest piece. My hands stayed mainly at her neck and shoulders, rubbing and massaging, and occasionally caressing her cheek or playing with her hair. We didn’t stay locked in kiss but occasionally veered off, to kiss at one another’s neck or forehead, to stare into one another’s eyes, and once...to just hold our foreheads together. Both our eyes were closed, and we simply held close, feeling the warmth the other had to share. For two hours we held without saying a word, touching and kissing, staring and watching. Near the end Kid reached up with her right hand, and cradled my cheek so that I would look into her eyes. I did so willingly.

“Listen...” Her word was very mild, and extremely soft without a hint of brash. “I have to go...when the morning comes.” I opened my mouth to quickly ask why, but as if she sensed my words she pressed a finger over my lips, and held them close together so she could reply.

“Because there’s still a lot I need to know.” She whispered quietly, and slowly closed her eyes as she spoke. “About Lucca...and about who I am.” I could feel her forefinger tremble, slightly, shivering upon the flesh of my lips.

“I learned a lot on this trip but still not enough.” Her voice was getting weaker. “And if I don’t find out everything, I...I know it’ll just consume me.”

“But listen...” And with this she opened her eyes, and a glint of her old self came to my sight once more. She smiled faintly, and her trembling finger straightened out firmly. “I’m coming back for you. Once I find myself. So let’s enjoy this night...in the hopes that we’ll have another one, soon.”

I couldn’t find any words to say, so as tears ran down my face, I began to kiss her again.

Before long our solemn kiss turned into a mild passion, and before long kid was leaning up, kissing down into me with desire. My own hands toyed at the fabric of her shirt, and sensing this she immediately reached up to remove the troublesome garment. It was tossed aside carelessly and she then laid down again, though this time she made a point to lay across my right leg, straddling it and pressing herself down upon it. Within seconds we again held one another, and like before we were locked in a deep, entrancing kiss. The silk sheets covered both of us the entire time.

After a moment’s time I could feel Kid’s right hand begin to waver, and her fingertips slowly began to cross down my flesh, along the thin width of my stomach and down between my legs, where my body ached to be stroked by her. My eyes closed and my mouth opened in a breathless, soundless moan, and my legs stretched out somewhat lewdly as her fingertips drew near. Without breaking the kiss I could feel her fingertips slowly begin to stroke the very thin grouping of purple hair I have at the top of my valley, and my passion increased more as I could feel her flesh tug gently on the strands. Before long her fingers continued southward, and her skin was gently pressed into mine, her forefinger slowly stroking back and forth, up and down along the length of my sex. My mouth opened but no sound escaped, and she smiled and simply continued to kiss it.

Seconds passed, and I could now feel both of Kid’s fingers upon my sex, spreading and probing, toying and playing. She would spread my sex gently apart and then let it resume its normal position, and then with both fingers would toy down the length of it, moving them side to side as they both trickled down my valley. She made no piercing moves at that point in time, and seemed to be content to tease, all the while embroiled in the fiery kiss of lust we shared, which had gone from mild lips to fierce tongues and valiant lashes. My fingertips went tight, and I threw my arms around her back. My body quivered, and I could feel the tip of her forefinger slowly press itself past my flesh. Without verbal warning she continued to press further, slowly and gently as she explored my region of below.

For the first time I noticed that Kid herself was short on breath, and in a moment’s thought I realized why. I hadn’t noticed it before, but my right leg was hot, hot and steamed, above the knee. I glanced down to its location under the covers, and smiled wide at what I saw and felt. Kid’s short skirt was hitched up above her waist, and her bare sex was pressed down hard into my leg, rubbing back and forth with the slightest of motions. Though I hadn’t even been aware of it before I could now feel the ripple of every fold within her body, gently stroking the milky white of my leg, coursing and trailing, leaving a very mild film that was probably a mixture of sweat and excitement. Kid gave a soft breath of contentment and passion, as if she had noticed that I saw her ride my leg. Without a second’s warning she grew in pace with both of her activities. Her sex pressed harder down upon my skin, and her fingers reached in deep, two probing my body, spreading my walls and reaching in deep. Her thrusts on my leg became faster and harder, and before long her fingers were pushing hard into my walls, spreading and moving no longer tenderly, but with a mind of passion. The kiss finally dropped and my head fell to the pillow, but my eyes still fixed on Kid as I watched her perform on both of our bodies. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was agape, breathing hard and panting without much sound or air. Her hair was beginning to mat to her head, and a droplet of sweat trailed down along her nose. I quickly leaned up and let my tongue trail up, collecting the droplet as she collected my tear earlier. I cradled it in the muscle of my tongue and offered it to hers, and for a moment we were able to savor the fluid of her exertion, the proof of her effort to both make us lustful.

Kid seemed driven on by the offering, and before long she was rampant in both of her activities. Her flesh rubbed hard against my own, and her fingertips rammed into me with more pressure than I had ever experienced before, even at the shaft of a large palace guard. In the moments that follow I can’t say much of, for my memory of that time exists in dreams and passing thoughts. My senses were fogged and my mind was overloaded, and into the shake of our aftermath I was left reeling for an explanation. The first thing I remember after her sudden increase in effort, was her fingers in my mouth, being cleaned by my working tongue.

I could taste my own fluids filling my mouth, sticking to my teeth and cradled in my tongue. I couldn’t remember her fingers being placed there but I could image most of what happened, as I still felt her damp sex against my leg, and her body was yet still pressed down onto mine. With time and caution I cleaned my lover’s fingers, and then accepted the long, slow kiss that followed. We shared what remained of my flavor on our tongues, and after we had used all that we could, Kid leaned up, and pressed her lips into my forehead. She laid down beside me, letting her body fall to the side, though the leg that farthest straddled mine still overlapped my body. Her hands wrapped strongly against my waist, and she pulled me into her, with her lips brushing over my ear.

“I love you.” She whispered, her breath kissing the lobe of my flesh. “And I’ll come back for you.”

My own breath disappeared, and my words of love went unspoken. Before I could mention them, sleep had befallen me.

I woke up the next morning alone, though in the same position I was in when I slept. My body still felt as supported as it was the earlier night, and not a muscle on my frame was out of place. A true thief, I thought to myself, leaving things just as they were before she left. Sighing, I finally brought myself up from my bed, to acknowledge what I already knew to be true. Her clothing was gone, and the window had been closed. Sadly, I shook my head, and wondered briefly if it had all been a dream. But when I went to my dresser and opened the top drawer, a small envelope was laid inside, with my name written across the top in the handwriting of a child. Blushing I took it, and opened it while sitting on my bed.

There was only her pendant, and a promise written in the same childish language, on a ragged piece of paper.

“I love you. And I’ll come back for you.”

One of my hands clutched the pendant, while the other clutched the tattered note. I slipped under the silk blankets, and cried despite their comfort.