Wedding Aftermath Pt 3

Writers: Miriah, Yvonne
Date Posted: 11th August 2014

Characters: Taril, Humari
Description: Taril and Humari face their wedding night.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 8, day 2 of Turn 7
Notes: Pt 3 of 4; Mentioned: Yriadha, Yarmel, Torinya

Humari

She took his hand, her own fingers cool against his. The light grip
didn't stop her heart from beating with nervous energy as she followed
him. It felt like a stampede of runners in her chest. No one had seen
her naked except herself since she was a child. Would she even be
naked? Torinya had told her that her husband usually just lifted her
night shift or skirts.

She did know that her clothing had been sent this morning, so her
chests should still be here. She had night dresses in there and she
could change out of this dress. That made her realize a very important
thing and even more so, her mother's devious mind. The laces on this
dress were done in such a way that she could not undo them herself. He
would have to help if she wanted out of it. As the stepped into the
bedroom, Humari looked around and at Taril. "It's lovely."

Taril shrugged. It was just a room. The room was smallish, with a tiny
window against one wall that was currently covered by thick drapes.
There was a chair in one corner and a large, four-poster bed against
the far wall. A pair of large wardrobes stood against the other wall,
with a full-length mirror between. The mirror was a luxury since it
was glass instead of polished metal, but that was the only thing.
"Most of your things are already in the far wardrobe." He'd snooped;
there wasn't much, and most of what there was would have to be
replaced. He had an image to uphold.

Of course her gaze lingered on the bed for a long moment as she turned
slowly at what would be her shared room with Taril. She looked down
at her hand in his, licked her lower lip with nerves and turned her
back to him. She took a breath, and spoke softly, trying to cover the
tremble in her voice. "I can't undo the laces by myself. If you could
just start them, I can finish." In that instant, she truly hated her
mother. Not only would Taril see her shame, she was forced to ask for
his help to reveal it and he thought poorly enough of her already.

"All right." Taril leaned against one of the bedposts and set his
crutch aside. He motioned for Humari turn around, and when she did so
was presented by an overly confusing cross-hatch of ribbons. It was
intimidating, and he was surprised to see that his hands trembled a
little as he began to undo the knots. This was far from his first time
with a woman, but Humari was... his wife. Damaged as she was, she'd
bear his children. They were both damaged.

But he had no idea how badly until the horrid pink dress began to gape
away from Humari's back, exposing angry red welts, black bruises and
scabs. He brushed his fingers against the damage as his rage from
earlier resurfaced, and winced in sympathy as Humari drew in a short,
pained breath. "Who did this?" he asked quietly.

The moment the knots loosened, Humari's knees nearly buckled from the
release of a constant ache. She hand to hold on to the bed post to
right herself. She heard Taril's in-drawn breath as the dress loosened
and closed her eyes, hands quickly moving to hold the front of her
dress against her. She couldn't stop herself from flinching from his
touch; the long day in the dress had only made the bruises ache more.
Voice very soft, she bowed her head, shoulders slumping. "My mother.
Yarmel. I..I shame them. Embarrass them. Disgust them. It was their
punishment for that." And she'd tried to run away, but for all she
knew he'd be angry about that as much as they would, so kept quiet.

She felt bare in more than one way now. "I learned my lesson, Taril.
I'll not shame you or embarrass you."

He brushed the back of his hand against her bruised back, inwardly seething
at Yriadha and Yarmel. What they'd done to her... he was beginning to
suspect that it went beyond bruises. "No one will ever touch you like
that again. Ever. That I can promise. Not even me."

The gentle touch, so not what she had been expecting made her turn
slowly to face him. Her trembling hands still clutched the body of her
gown to her chest to cover herself but now not out of fear, but
because of modesty. Her brow knit as she stared up his face, several
thoughts flying through her mind all at once. Was he swearing to
protect her? That he wouldn't strike her or let anyone else do that?
Her eyes locked onto his, searching. She saw anger there, but not, she
thought, directed at her. He didn't have to make that promise; as his
wife, he had the authority to do with her what he wanted. But
maybe...just maybe, she didn't have to be afraid of him.

She had done horrible things and been punished for it, but it almost
felt to her that he was giving her the chance to make it better and he
wasn't looking at her as if she was lower than a crawlie. Grateful,
she did the best thing she could to thank him. She steeled her courage
and before she could think further about it, she stood straighter and
pressed her lips against his. She was hesitant and couldn't help but
compare it to the one other person she'd kissed. His lips weren't as
full, but they were soft and surprisingly, it was nice. She pulled
away just a little, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"You're sure about this?" The question was just as much for him as for her.

Why was he asking her that? The fact that he was and that he hadn't simply
exercised his rights made her even more certain. This man wouldn't hurt her,
beyond the necessary. She might not enjoy what was going to happen, but she
suddenly, desperately wanted him to, if only because her mother's scheming
had tricked him as well. If he wasn't going to cast her aside, then she
would make sure he'd not regret it. She took a step back and watching him,
let go of the dress, letting it pool at her feet. Her face flamed at her own
boldness and her hands twitched as she struggled not to cover herself,
keeping them at her sides. "Let me be a good wife to you."

His gaze traveled down, across her body-- he couldn't help it. Even damaged
by careless hands, she was beautiful. White skin, soft curves, her hair a
dark shadow half-covering her body in an attempt to preserve her modesty.
Even after everything that had happened that night, something stirred within
him. He held out his hand and when she took it, he pulled her to him,
letting one hand curl around the pale swell of a hip as the other wrapped
her hand around his back. He kissed her. Not the way she'd kissed him,
earlier-- that was a girl's kiss. This was a kiss meant for a wife.

Last updated on the August 26th 2014

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Wedding Aftermath Pt 3