closed.

[tender]

WHO: derrica + lukas
WHAT: Scything
WHEN: Solace
WHERE: Hinterlands
NOTES: Just a couple mages larping as farmers

The actual request to Riftwatch had sounded far more fraught. Or maybe, because Riftwatch has very few farmers in it, they'd mistaken "clearing some fields" as something that needed a pair of agents. In fairness, clearing the fields could have meant a number of things. But what it ends up being is a pair of scythes and a stretch of land. The elderly farmer and her wife are very sweet but also happy to leave the entire job to the two strapping Riftwatch agents and retire to the cool of their farmhouse.

After an hour or so, Derrica's perched on the fence, scythe resting against her thigh as she winds one soft plait up to pin at the top of her head. They've made a fair amount of progress, but not quite enough. And Derrica hadn't asked, but she is curious: will they have to come back to take in the harvest?

"You have straw in your hair," she says after a moment, when Lukas straightens up. His shoulders are turning pink. "It's very fetching."

Comments

"uncomplicated"

[tensive]

The scythe hits the dirt with a dull thump; if he hadn't caught it sliding from the corner of his eye, he'd be inclined to check the house for open windows or doors.

"I happen to be a great student."

They're close enough to kiss. They have been for a while, and it's tempting to lean in at the insistence of her fingers digging into his shoulder. There's a smudge of dirt high on her cheekbone, and she smells like sweat and broken straw; they both do, oddly sweet. But they're playing a game, here: she can think of a few instructions she'd like him to follow, he can think of a few she'd like him to give.

*someone* complicated it with war crimes

[tender]

The assertion makes Derrica laugh, head tipping back as her thighs flex at his hips, keeping her balance.

"I think you have a lot of potential," she tells him, tone full of implication. Does she need to be explicit about all the things he's been good at so far? Even the first time hadn't been as clumsy as it could have been, considering the alcohol involved.

"Maybe start by putting your mouth here," she directs, releasing his shoulder to tap her collarbone. "And see where we go from there."

She's thinking about where she wants his hands, about whether a literal roll in the hay is as good as songs make it out to be. Is it worth pulling straw out of her hair for hours after this? Maybe.