Unfamiliar Territory - Chapter 17 (Early Access) (Patreon)

“You remember we have to leave at the end of the summer, don’t you?”

Tove ignored the question and continued piling crates of things at the bottom of the stairs. She was grinning to herself as she did; it infected Chloe easily. The longer she was at Tove’s side, the easier it became to let her bright personality light up Chloe from the inside, too. She smiled down over the railing that blocked falls from the upper floor. Let Tove clutter their home if that made her happy, she thought.

It was the morning of their first day as… future mates? Which meant they now lived together. Actually, it meant a lot of things, and Chloe was still mulling over everything Tove had explained in bed last night.

“You told them we will be married, Tove!” Chloe had hissed from her rolled-blanket pillow. Perhaps she was paraphrasing Tove’s explanation, but it sure sounded like a serious commitment to her ears.

Tove beamed back at her. “I don’t know what married is, Chloe.” Said as though she were proud not to know.

“Lovers for life,” Chloe summarised. “Swearing an oath and having a ceremony in front of your family and friends-”

Tove’s face jerked back in mild disgust. “You do that in front of your family?”

Somehow, Chloe knew exactly what she was referring to. “Not the sex, but the marriage ceremony.” Her cheeks warmed despite the chilled, dark room.

“But you said sex was the end goal,” Tove recounted from their river conversation.

“Well,” Chloe huffed primly. “The more traditional magic folk, and humans, believe in waiting until after their marriage ceremony to have sex.”

Tove was quiet for so long, Chloe wondered if she’d fallen asleep in her human form by accident. At least it would save some room on the bed.

A murmur into the darkness that Chloe almost missed. “Do you believe that?”

She took a moment to decide if she even wanted to answer that question. It was private and personal… and she didn’t know.

“I’ve never been close to needing to worry about it,” Chloe admitted. And probably never will with a fellow person for a familiar.

“There’s never been anyone?”

“What about you?” Chloe asked instead of answering. There had been no one, and she’d rather not dwell on that fact. She’d never felt that simmering from the inside out feeling, experienced blushing because they looked at you a moment too long, wished she could tie herself to another person forever with only her words. Until Tove. The first time she had felt love and it was her own familiar.  How mortifying. “Any mate candidates?”

“Nope. I’m not really the forever type of lover.” Tove laughed quietly. “But we definitely don’t believe in waiting around in the meantime.”

Chloe fell quiet, wondering who else had tasted Tove’s tongue. Or felt her firm grip around their waist. Or had her head under their skirt. The smell of overripe apples came back to her for a moment…

A tap to her nose tugged her from her thoughts. Tove wasn’t finished with her curious questions. “Is the marriage ceremony similar to the familiar spell? Binding two people together?”

Chloe restrained a laugh. “No, marriages can be broken.” She rolled to her side, watching Tove’s face in the dim light of the moon. So fresh and pure and effortlessly pretty. “The familiar bond cannot.”

Tove tilted her head. In the dark hut her red-hued hair was black, springing out in odd directions where she’d rolled against the bedding. “Then… for a marriage I’d get sex but for a familiar bond, I get what?”

Chloe looked up through her lashes, letting a sultry edge take her whispered words. “What do mates get?”

“A lot of sex,” Tove chuckled.

Never mind, she’d bitten off far more than she could chew. Chloe threw the blanket over her head and rolled away. Flirting was not in her skill set and she was stupid to even try. Shame-filled, she attempted to pretend that sleep had immediately taken her.

Laughter from above the blanket was her only warning before warm hands dug beneath and tickled her sides until she squealed. She kicked free of the bedding, but couldn’t escape Tove’s ticklish grip, pulled back into the c-shaped curve of her body and squeezed close.

Chloe was dragged, forcibly, back to the present morning when a metallic rattle rang out from just outside the hut. A head full of intricate braids leant into the open doorway, beads swinging like wind chimes.

“Leave now and keep your hair, Kajsa,” Tove growled. She didn’t even turn to see who had approached.

Kajsa’s dark eyes rolled, and away swished her head, followed a moment behind by her hair. Chloe would have liked to at least know what she wanted before she left… there could have been some reconciliation between the cousins. Looking to Tove, she realised… maybe not yet.

Grumbling to herself, Tove continued unpacking everything but the kitchen sink from the sacks she had dragged up from the den. It was endearing how seriously she took the whole situation… Chloe couldn’t let it disillusion her into thinking it was that serious, though.

What had Tove’s relatives said outside the hut that first night? That she would get her heart broken. They must know exactly what Tove was referring to when she said she didn’t court long-term. Best not to let their new married life get to her head… It was quite literally playing house. Even if it felt so wonderfully real. If they could find a reason to play forever, she’d take it.

Not even halfway unpacked, they received their second visitor. This one, Tove didn’t shoo away.

“They need some extra hands over at the wash barrels,” Vilde announced. She had a sharp look to her eyes and Chloe got the distinct feeling that she was being tested, although Tove’s aunt wasn’t looking at her.

She jumped at a chance to redeem herself, literally, leaping down the stairs two at a time. “I can help wash barrels!”

Tove and her aunt laughed.

“You wash things in the barrels, Chloe.”

“Oh, I see,” Chloe said quietly. “I can do that too!”

“We’ll make our way over,” Tove promised.

Vilde nodded, test passed, and left them to the chaos that was their hut. Piles of things and bits and bobs had accumulated everywhere. At least Tove had come bearing plenty of extra blankets…

They left for the wash barrels, and Tove took her hand as they walked. It was warm, but not sweaty, while Chloe was both warm and sweaty all over. And her face felt like it was burning. Whether it was the sun, or the suggestive looks they were receiving from the few werewolves they passed, she couldn’t say for sure. They had certainly made an impression the day before. She believed there was still time to smooth things over, though… the alpha’s top condition was that they assimilate quietly. Chloe would love to live quietly… a little cottage, surrounded by vegetables and flowers, and trees older than books, where she would practice nature magic and grow things and become friends with cute fluffy animals-

Tove halted, and Chloe bumped into her. They had arrived at an open space filled with bathtub-like wooden barrels, manned by three to four people at a time washing sopping wet piles of material: bedding, clothes, sacks. They were naked on their top halves, and the muscles of their arms strained and smoothed in the motions of their soaping and rinsing. Soft conversation died out as they caught sight of Tove and Chloe.

On approach, the other washers made it clear with cold looks and nervous glances to each other that they had no interest in sharing their tub with a witch. Tove ignored them, and took her to an empty barrel in the back corner. She instructed her to wait while she collected supplies.

Chloe had only washed her own clothes in the cabin, prior to that, her laundry was all done for her. The set-up was similar, but streamlined with magic in much smaller buckets. And it was not completed communally, of course. Tove was patient in her instructions, and made a point to include her in every step of filling the tub and mixing ingredients, even when it made the process slow and clumsy.

They soaped and scrubbed and squeezed excess water from item after item until they had a soggy basketful. Then they pinned them to lengths of twine strung up between unused buildings of the city to air dry. A light breeze rippled along the line, Chloe’s eyes followed it through blankets and skirts. There were no delicates in the wash pile, she supposed people preferred to care for those themselves… She turned to ask, and Tove was closer than she expected, ducking under the twine with an elbow resting on a peg, watching Chloe’s face from a few inches away. Chloe didn’t retreat. She was rewarded for her bravery with a kiss.

It was gentle as the air that swept around them, hot as the sun beating down. Chloe pushed in a little closer, encouraging Tove’s touch at her lower back. No need to memorise what she already knew, the shape, at least. This was tracing, indulging, igniting tingles along Chloe’s skin. Her mouth opened and Tove sunk inside-

A wet smack reached Chloe’s ears at exactly the same moment that Tove stumbled into her, knocking them both to the grass in an awkward sprawl. Sputtering with barely contained laughter, they both glanced over Tove’s shoulder for the culprit, only to find a towel flapping in the wind.

The pair shared a moment’s look, eyes shining, and let the laughter out. They clutched at each other as they did, rolling on the ground like fools.

“You won’t believe who I thought that was,” Tove gasped.

Chloe could only make a humming sound in reply. She pinched her lips closed in a fight against the giggles. It was so much harder to contain lying down.

“I thought Kajsa had come back for another round!”

The giggles burst free. “You think her weapon of choice would be a wet towel?”

“You don’t know the things we weaponised as children.” Tove chuckled at the memory. She fell forward again, letting Chloe feel the weight of her pressing her into the dirt. It was… nice, grounding.

“Have some shame!” an elderly man grunted, visible only for a few seconds when an enormous blanket blew back to reveal him on the other side of the drying line.

Chloe’s giggles stopped, Tove laughed louder.

As they plodded back home, Chloe realised she may simply have to be at peace with the possibility of having her heart broken. It simply wouldn’t listen to reason.