Chapter 7

by Ski Hemulen

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Romial waited outside the cot’s door in the darkness. It was already quite chilly with the beginning of winter and he was wearing a heavy wool coat. He had a bow near him, and a halberd leaning on the wall next to him. he didn’t go out without them anymore. It actually became harder to go alone to their meetings without raising suspicion with all the trouble around.

When Otmakla arrived he rose towards her and they hugged as they always did. This time she clung to him, not letting go.

‘He’s gone’ she said.

He just held her for a long while. Would he be like this if Romjigan died? Romjigan wasn’t someone you felt close to. He was a force of nature. A constant like the sun or winter. Probably not.

She suddenly moved her head from his shoulder and kissed him on the lips. It wasn’t a soft kiss – she pressed her closed lips strongly to his. He wanted this, but he wasn’t sure this was how he wanted it. They spoke about romance in their meetings from time to time, debating whether that was what they had. They also talked about physical contact. Some of the talk had been extremely intimate, like the time they discussed the way they masturbated. His face became hot just thinking of that. But it was all theoretical. The most they ever did was hug. She wasn’t sure she wanted more. He wasn’t sure this was the time to change things.

‘What was that for?’ he asked.

‘Didn’t you want it?’ she said looking over his shoulder, evading his eyes.

‘No lies. Never lies. You know I want you. But I’m not sure you want me, and I don’t understand this sudden change. And now, of all times’.

She disentangled her arms from around his body, letting them rest at the sides of her body, looking down, breathing deep breaths intermingled with almost sobs.

‘Let’s go inside. Let’s talk. That’s our way. Not just actions’.

She met his eyes and nodded.

they entered, took off their coats and sat on the mattress next to each other, their bodies touching. He lit the fireplace earlier and the cot was warm and everything was tinted red by its light.

He felt his thigh growing warm from the contact with her. This has become usual at their meetings. Not a romantic touch, but a casual physical contact. It meant a lot to him, as if the touch of his body on another body reaffirmed him, made him concrete. He felt loved. It was strange and pleasant.

‘Now, explain what you were doing, and why’ he asked tenderly.

‘I don’t know’, she said. ‘It’s all mixed up. I need to feel like a woman. Now. And I love you. And I feel like you’re all I’ve got. The only real place in this world. The only one to whom I can speak the truth’. She took a deep breath. ‘I want you in so many ways. This way as well. Why is that strange?’

He paused. She looked so fragile. It actually lessened his desire for her. He wanted to protect her, not make love to her. To cover her, not to undress her. She attracted him partly because of her strength.

‘Tell me what you’re feeling about your father’s death’ he told her, thinking that was probably what they needed to talk about now.

She looked up at him from her slumped posture.

‘I knew it’ll come, and soon. It’s not that I’m suddenly alone in ruling the house, I’ve been alone for months. He hasn’t been able to help me for that long. But this makes it more real. I spoke with my mother. She doesn’t understand. I feel so alone’. She spoke rapidly, not finishing her thoughts. She stopped, breathing heavily.

‘You should take the time and grieve for him. I wish I knew him. I feel I know him a bit, through you. I remember thinking of him as a weak man. Now I understand he was the opposite. He had the courage and strength to make a house like no other in this land. I wish I knew him…’

‘You know, when he was starting to fade, becoming too tired to speak for more than a few minutes a time, and I felt I wouldn’t have many chances to speak with him again, I told him about us’.

He froze. She looked in his eyes, smiling through tears. ‘He approved. He said we should be very careful but that life was too short to live as we are supposed to. He said he was glad I’m not alone. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry I broke my word. But I’m glad I did it’.

He didn’t know what to say. It was a frightening and exhilarating thing. Like a glimpse into a possible world where they wouldn’t have to hide. He took her in his arms and they embraced once more, sitting side by side.

‘It’s not that I haven’t been truthful’ she whispered, here face very close to his, ‘I’m just figuring this out now. I think one of the reasons I’m holding back on physical contact is that I want it all to be better. For us to be more comfortable’, she paused. ‘For me to be more comfortable. But I don’t think things are going to be better. Oh, it’ll be better between us if we give things time. But I don’t think we’ve got time’. She paused. ‘I’m afraid. Things are getting ugly. I’m dealing with refugees and army deserters almost every week now’. He saw many of those himself by now. It sometimes turned ugly. He and several other men had to drive away a crowd of refugees just two weeks ago. There were children among them, looking starved. He pitied them, but there was nothing he could do about it. They couldn’t feed them with their winter supplies.

She reclined a bit and looked at him. ‘And I’m worried about your father. He still refuses to convene a council of house heads to deal with this. I converse with Jetmir every now and then, but his house and mine aren’t enough. Cooperating with the Diarjid isn’t enough. We should really do more. Sit the houses together, arrange patrols, work together on stocks and supplies because we probably won’t see merchants this spring…’

He knew his father wouldn’t do any of that. He would be thinking of ways to use this situation to better their house’s relative status.

‘You know I’d help if I could. He doesn’t consult me…’ he felt totally useless. She worried about the future of the mountains. He grew apples.

‘I know. Of course I know. I’m not blaming you. I’m just frustrated. And worried’.

She leaned into him again, circling his body with her arms.

‘I wish you were my family. You are. We have a secret family’, she giggled, then took a deep breath. ‘I really want you. won’t you believe me?’

Now she looked self-assured, not hesitated and confused.

‘I really really want to believe you. But now it makes me afraid’. His eyes went from the side of her head down to the curve of her breast, and the feeling of his body’s inadequacy made his stomach clench.

‘Why are you afraid?’

‘I’m afraid you won’t want me when you see me. See my body’. It was hard for him to breathe.

‘I’ve been imagining it, you know. I don’t know how this works exactly, but I think attraction can grow and develop and change. I don’t think I was attracted to you when we started meeting. I only liked you as a person. Loved you as a person as I came to know you. Is it strange that loving you as a person makes me love your body, think fondly of it, want to see it, to touch it?’ She was caressing his back and the nape of his neck. ‘I want to kiss you again’, she said.

‘Softly’ he whispered.

He felt her lips on his, soft, moving slowly. He held her, inhaling her scent deeply, parting his lips slightly and nibbling her upper lip. She reciprocated, nibbling his lower lip. It felt good. It was also ridiculous. He moved his head back and giggled. She smiled broadly. They kissed again, both of them giggling.

‘What next?’ he asked. He wanted her to lead. He felt too uncertain, too self-conscious.

She was still smiling but softly now, not with amusement. He was aware that the smile had slipped from his lips.

‘I want to see your body’ she said.

He froze for a moment. She just continued holding his back and looking at him.

‘You said you’re thinking fondly of my body. How can you know? It’s an ugly thing…’

‘I know it isn’t. It’s you’.

He still hesitated.

‘Maybe this will help you believe’. She took his hand and kissed it, then leaned back on the mattress, reaching the wall with her head, and brought his hand slowly towards her, dragging him to lie on the bed beside her, touching her stomach with his hand, then pushing it under the edge of her breeches.

His breath caught. He felt the curly hair on her pubic mound. She unbuckled her belt and made it possible for his hand to move. He didn’t move it, still not breathing. She pushed her hand under the edge of her open breeches and entwined her fingers in his, then moved their fingers together further. Her vagina felt very hot and wet to his fingers, mirroring the feeling between his legs.

‘Can you believe me now when I say I really want you?’

He inhaled noisily and nodded. He bent to kiss her again, moving his fingers uncertainly on her vagina. She took charge and moved his fingers under hers in a circular motion, kneading her vagina in a soft, well rehearsed pattern. She was still kissing him, one hand in her breeches, the other on the nape of his neck. Her breathing became heavier.

‘I love you’ she whispered hoarsely, her breaths escaping in small grunts.

‘I love you’ he said.

She went on like this for a while. He looked at her, thrilled by her beauty, touching her face softly with his other hand, kissing her.

Closing her eyes tightly she climaxed, giving out a long moan and squeezing his hand between her legs for a long while.

She let go of his hand and leaned back holding her legs together, her breath slowly settling. She was smiling, her eyes closed.

He took his wet hand and smelled it. It was distinct, tangy, similar and different from his own smell. He put his fingers in his mouth tasting them. Strong, Earthy and somewhat sour. He smiled and she smiled back at him.

‘Do you like it?’ she asked.

‘Yes’ he said, smiling and blushing and thinking it was stupid to blush after what they just did.

‘I want to see you’ she reminded him.

He took a deep breath and started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He dreaded this but after what they just did he felt slightly safer. He took the shirt off and laid it beside the bed. The tight breast bindings almost made his small breasts disappear. He untied them and rolled them slowly around his body. For some reasons he felt his breasts were more of a deformity than his vagina, and now he regretted starting from them, but he couldn’t change course now. He let the bindings fall and forced his arms to the side of his body, resisting the urge to hide his breasts with them.

She looked at him, face serious. Looked at his face. Looked at his breasts.

‘Come over here’ she whispered from her place on the mattress. She pulled his arm, tugging him to lie beside her.

Then she touched him. The slightest touch of her fingertips on his face, tracing his brow and cheekbone and stopping on his lips. He felt the hard straw mattress scraping his back. He never laid on it without a shirt. It was a stark contrast to her touch, herĀ calloused fingers fluttering on his lips slipping down his chin, caressing his neck and tracing his collarbone.

He took a deep breath, but his rising chest only made him more aware of his exposed breasts. She looked in his eyes and smiled.


Otmakla felt so many confused feeling looking at him, but most of all she felt tenderness. He was beautiful, his short hair disheveled, his face creased with worry, his muscular arms tense by the sides of his small breasts. She didn’t feel his manliness was compromised, but she knew he felt it. When he was dressed he was complete, he felt totally at ease with his presentation to the world, and casual, unstrained masculinity emanated from him. She was quite sure it wasn’t an act. He was honest in his body language dressed as he was now. Half naked like he was, the image he presented partly broken, he seemed very wary and defensive.

Now she hesitated. Had it been wrong to pressure him into this? He looked so vulnerable.

‘I love you. You are beautiful’ she said. He really was her family for this last half-year or so.

She traced her hand from his collar-bone to his waist, passing briefly over one of his breasts. She wanted to touch them more, explore him, but felt it would make him uncomfortable at the moment.

She needed to change the dynamic of this, put him more on ease. She quickly undressed, taking her shirt off, unbinding her breasts and taking off her open breeches and underwear. It felt good in a strange way to be dressed when he was half-naked. But it wouldn’t do at the moment.

His eyes were savoring her body, red tinted in the firelight. She liked that too. She closed the distance to him. She lay next to him and put her hand on his waist. He in turn sent his hand to her face and touched her lips. She smiled. He moved his hand down, touching her breast, moving his rough fingers ever so gently on her nipple. It felt strange to have someone else touch her there, making her a bit queasy and excited.

She slipped her hand from his waist to the buckle of his belt, opening it. He leaned back, and she pulled his breeches and underwear down, while he raised his pelvis, helping her.

She looked at him. ‘Such an interesting body’. He looked in her eyes searching for her meaning. She smiled.

She pressed herself close to him, their chests touching. ‘You said it. We talk. Tell me what to do’.

He looked at her, then smiled. ‘I can’t say it’.

‘You want me to say what I wanted first?’

‘Yes’, his smile broadened.

‘Earlier I really needed you to touch my vagina. To masturbate with me. It was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever done with anybody’. She kissed him.

He took her hand in his, smiling embarrassedly. ‘I want you to do the same with me’.

She smiled and nodded, excited.

He looked embarrassed again. He took her hand and brought her fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. It was surprisingly arousing.

‘I need some moisture’ he apologized. She smiled.

He took her wet fingers down to his vagina, combing her hand through his pubic hair. He settled their hands, moving her fingers slowly on his inner lips. She kissed him. He brought his other hand and started touching his clitoris gently. He moved their hands in a set of motions, going faster and faster, moving his pelvis to meet their hands. She kissed his neck and caressed his hair with her free hand.

‘Can I kiss your breast?’ he asked hoarsely. He probably blushed. She couldn’t see in the dim red light.

She smiled and inched herself slowly until, with her free hand, she could help his mouth to her breast. He kissed around the nipple and then sucked it softly, sending a small wave of pleasure through her.

They lay entangled that way for several minutes. He climaxed silently, arching his back and straightening his muscular legs, trapping her hand between his legs. He looked wild, breathing through clenched teeth.


He was looking at her, lying beside her, leaning on his elbow. His body looking both feminine and masculine. She considered again the plasticity of what she found attractive, and how he worked into it. He looked beautiful.

Now though, after the passion had lessened and the hour grew late, she could worry again. If Romjigan was planning a move against her house it will be now, before winter, so he could get most of her winter supplies. That’s what she would have done had she been an old ruthless bastard like him. She needed to prepare. The thing was, the best idea she had to break the unbelievable advantage the Romjid had over the Stoyanjid was extremely dangerous if the attack didn’t happen. Even if it did happen it’ll be risky.

And there was Romial. As hard as it was to imagine herself and her house coming out of this mess in one piece it was hard to see path were both of them would come out unscathed. She had to warn him.

‘Romial, our houses are going to war. I’m almost certain that’s what Romjigan’s planning’.

‘I hope you’re wrong. But I know you understand these things much better than I do’.

‘I don’t know what to do. I have to defend my house. But I don’t want you or yours hurt’.

‘I will never join an attack against you’.

‘That will risk you to. Romjigan can execute you for something like that. Maybe I can give you refuge in my house’.

‘I don’t know if that can really work out…’

It was such a hopeless situation.

They stayed for very long, talking, kissing. They should have ended it earlier but they had a foreboding feeling this may be the last time they see each other.


Oh! Sworn finally has a listing on Web Fiction Guide! I’d appreciate it if you go and rate it! Or better: write a review! Thanks.

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