Winter’s Tale
2: Second night — First kiss
Sleep was littered with fragmentary moments. Firelight, white hair, cool skin, eyes, laughter, being… positioned. It lacked any coherence, but a diffuse libidinous warmth lay beneath the disparate debris of dreams until sunlight chased everything away.
As was family tradition, an indulgence really, Summer and I did not have to attend to our chores the morning after the fayre. Despite our late night and generous share of wine, we woke energised and launched into a review of the previous evening. Though we arrived at the fayre before noon and had a long afternoon touring its diversions, all we could think of was the evening with Layla. She seemed so sophisticated and confident. The puzzle was why she exhibited such an interest in us. As the only half-elves for many miles, and twins to boot, we understood that we drew attention. It was one of the reasons we, and Mother, seldom visited the village. Most people were civil to us, but plenty were not. The stares, the whispers, the occasional catcalls, all gave us an acute sense of being ‘other’ and it was annoying. Happily, once we got lost in conversation that had not been a problem all evening.
Something still did not tally about Layla. She had money, charm, beauty and could have enjoyed the attentions of anyone. We had watched her coldly snub literally everyone who approached, yet she showed no hesitation in welcoming us into her company. It was like she was a completely different person with us rather than with the full-blood humans. This led us to suspect she might be attracted to us. There was so much in her lithe movements, unknown accent, or the way she looked at us with those lustrous eyes that we could interpret as signifiers of attraction. We confessed our mutual ignorance that women could be attracted to women romantically, supremely naïve we would later realise, and wondered how that might work.
We concluded Layla must be gentry of some kind, perhaps nobility, and could not understand what she was doing in such an out-of-the-way corner of the world. Remarking on her peculiar hair, we both admitted we had wondered what it would be like to run our fingers through it, play with it, kiss it. Summer ventured she would like to kiss her lips, but, at first, I was too timid to admit the same. It became apparent we had been lingering on her feelings for us to avoid considering our attraction to her. Summer confessed she had experienced something when Layla pressed her body to hers as she pierced our ears. Something like lust. I thought back and admitted I had found it… stimulating. Moreover, when she told me to be still, it made me feel good in a mystifying fashion. We both marvelled at how self-possessed our new friend was, like when she bossed that trader with the head scarf, Bella, and we giggled at the recollection, instead of examining our feelings more closely.
There was no disguising our new earrings so, before our work, we showed them to Mother and Father. We made no mention of Layla. Instead, we lied that Bella had put them in for us. Brief glances affirmed we were of one mind about keeping our new friendship secret. Our parental relationships were normally so open. It felt shameful to be so easily dishonest. Mother admired the craftsmanship, while Father was concerned about how we had paid for them, but we placated his worries, like we always did. We had our ways. While the villagers thought Osen a rough sort, we knew how soft our father’s heart was when it came to us. A second clandestine conspiracy was birthed when we kept the gold earrings on the thongs about our necks hidden. Revealing them would spark a conversation we were not ready to have. Such secrecy was unlike us, but our promise was our priority.
We set about our chores diligently, sharing confidences in stolen moments. By day’s end, with all our tasks complete, neither of us were the least bit tired after supper as we slumped onto our beds, happily chatting into the darkest hours. Our talk was dominated by wondering when or if we might see our secret friend again. We fretted that we should have made firm plans and now had no way of contacting her, though we imagined she would be easy to spot if we took a trip back to the village soon. We made no secret of how badly we wanted to reunite, but pride hardened ourselves to the possibility it might never happen.
We were gradually talking ourselves round to accepting that our intense connection with our glamorous friend had just been a phenomenon of the fayre and a steady stream of booze, when a gentle tapping at our window made us jump. Layla was right outside, a single slender finger pressed to her lips to urge our discretion, her other hand beckoning us out into the moonlight. She wore very different attire from last night, a dress, long, dark red and finely detailed. Her hair braids all undone, cascading behind her, held from her face with a scarlet headscarf like the one Bella wore last night, vividly contrasting her white locks.
Excited when we should have been wary, we crept out of the house through the bedroom window, sure our parents were already asleep, and guilelessly followed our enthralling visitor. As soon as we made it to the treeline, we embraced as a trio. It was an uncommonly hot summer, the night air mild, sky clear, moon waning. Layla was cool to the touch again, though she never shivered.
“You came!” Summer exclaimed as quietly as she was able.
“I could not stay away,” confessed Layla, placing her hands over her chest. “My heart would not let me.” It was an unexpected thrill to hear her exotic accent again and I liked the romantic implications nested in her words.
“Thank you. We missed you,” I admitted. “We kept our secret. We told not a soul about you or last night, though our folks will no doubt hear about it soon. Tongues will wag after half the fayre saw us together.”
“Worry not about that, Winter. Let us enjoy tonight. Why don’t you show me your forest? It seems very lovely,” Layla suggested. I was touched by how she was able to tell us apart without prompting and felt an unanticipated thrill at her saying my name.
We walked in moonbeams through the forest, arm-in-arm. Layla was more forthcoming tonight, telling us of various places she had visited, lacing each one with some special knowledge that would enhance our experience if we ever got the chance to visit: the best inns to stay at, vantage points over vistas or ideal months to catch crops of blooms. When we learned she was fluent in Elvish we were enraptured. The only human we knew who spoke our mother tongue was Father. But she also knew Goblin, which was ugly-sounding, riddled with hard sounds; two Dwarven dialects, which sounded strange coming from her mouth; and numerous human languages, all testament to her travels. Throughout Layla’s little lectures, Summer kept throwing easy-to-read looks in my direction. She marvelled at our friend and wanted her in ways she barely understood. I suspected I did too.
After an hour or two, we stopped in the clearing by the old fallen thunderstruck tree and Layla leaned her back against it. Summer draped one elbow over the trunk beside her while I climbed atop, to sit looking down upon both. I propped my weight on my arms beside me, recalling the same pose Layla took when we first saw her.
“May I make a confession?” Layla asked sheepishly, very much at odds with her usual confidence. Diffidence did not suit her. Intrigued, we nodded our approval. She hesitated, gathering her thoughts.
“As you have no doubt surmised, I am wealthy. I use my fortune to wander the world, to search for experiences of true worth. Last night was a revelation. Meeting you both has affected me deeply,” she explained, while looking to the ground before her, not meeting our hopeful faces. Summer and I scarcely drew breath. Where was she going with this? Sudden, jumbled, unfocused hopes and fears bubbled through my mind. We stayed silent, neither of us wanting to distract her line of thought. Layla pushed off from the tree, took a few paces and turned to face us, looking at us in turn.
“I experienced a… reawakening. You reminded me of why I chose this life, of who I was before my travels, of parts of myself I had almost forgotten. You both possess an openness and a vigour that thirsts for the pleasures of this world, to see it all, to taste it all, to take it all. I once desired as you do and, since last night, I have felt that desire renewed. You are beautiful and pure, and some element of your spirit calls to mine. You have given me an invaluable gift by the mere fact of being yourselves and I wanted you to know…” she said, awkwardly drawing a breath and holding it, hesitating, darting her eyes between us, then rushing her next words.
“I am deeply attracted to you.”
We were thunderstruck. Despite our suspicions we had not dared seriously believe we were correct. What did she mean by attracted?
“Forgive my candour,” Layla continued. Did vulnerability rime her voice? “I am aware few women feel the way I do but I have not felt such emotion for another person, let alone two, in a very long time and I do not believe in letting opportunities slip away. I have done so before, much to my cost.”
All I could think was, it was true. We were right.
“As a matter of urgency, I would know if such advances are unwelcome. If they are, I shall withdraw them and assure you I shall remain your true friend, regardless. If my feelings make you uncomfortable and you no longer wish my friendship then so be it, I thank you for your company and kindness and I shall always reflect upon last night fondly,” she spoke quickly, voice betraying a rising tension, hands clenched into fists, arms straight by her sides, head held high. Her posture a mixture of dignity and defiance, masking her vulnerability.
Summer closed the short distance to our friend, stood proudly, and said, “This is all unknown territory to me, but I have wanted to do this since last night.” Then she grabbed Layla’s head with both hands and kissed her full on the lips.
My eyes nearly fled their sockets, devouring every detail. Reflexively, Layla slid her arms around Summer’s waist. Her hands drifted up my sister’s back, a need written in the splay of her grasp, a craving laid bare as their embrace endured. I did not realise I had stopped breathing until Layla made me gasp as she swung her gaze to me. While her lips were secured to my twin’s, her eyes locked on to mine. I had never seen such desire before. Even while entwinned with my sister, Layla wanted me. I perceived her yearning with such perfect, undeniable clarity it made me squirm. The moment changed me. I had never considered the sight of my sister lingering in a kiss could be so hypnotic, so erotic. Yet their display sent jolts of pleasure juddering through me, intense and revelatory. As the pair pulled apart, I was stung by a pang of disappointment that it was over.
Summer took a couple of unsteady paces to one side, turning from Layla to gather herself, face a medley of pleasure, revelation and something else. Connection.
After a heavy intake of breath, Summer turned to face her, and finally said, “That was quite a kiss.”
“It was marvellous. So are you. My thanks. You are an exceptional kisser,” Layla said, nodding thoughtfully as she digested the experience. Her weight shifted back on one leg. I thought she looked regal.
Summer scoffed, “You flatter me. The only kisses I have had were from boys in the village. They were… unsatisfying.”
I recalled the times we had let our flirting go a step further. The boys were as inexperienced and embarrassed as we by the whole affair. They had been fumbling, unromantic, unedifying encounters, either too tentative or too strident. Our curiosity had not been quenched but never once had any of the village girls caught our eye. I had always felt selfishly irritated by seeing Summer kiss others. But Layla was different, special. The sight of them locked together had stirred me.
“Well, your passion was… impressive, Summer,” Layla said, a firm nod and an admiring expression affirmed her words. “I truly felt it.”
Layla sent a quick glance to me, rich in longing, and then looked away. I shuddered. Summer caught the exchange and grinned at me. Clearly, she wanted me to experience what she just had. I was conflicted about it, but the seed of an urge had been planted in my mind last night when we were drunk and now it was blossoming. I was always more reserved than Summer, but my shyness suddenly seemed an aggravation to me. Summer reached up for my hand and lent me strength. I slid off the fallen tree to land with a modicum of grace.
“Would you like to kiss me, Winter?” Layla asked, her head cocked to one side. “It is perfectly fine if you do not. You never have to kiss anyone unless you want to.”
What a question. Of course, I wanted to, but shackles of embarrassment, inexperience and modesty, held me back. What if I was not as good as Summer? Should I be kissing a woman and meaning it? Did I mean it? That look of Layla’s from the depths of their kiss was lodged in my mind, calling to me, pleading and I was unused to such deep emotion. I closed my eyes so the memory of their kiss was all I could see, and the urgency grew. A simmering heat built within me and when I opened my eyes, Layla was right in front of me, barely restrained desire etched across her face.
“Do you want to kiss me?” I asked Layla, regretting the stupidity of my question the moment I asked it.
“I do. Very much so,” Layla replied, stepping closer as Summer let go of my hand.
“Tell me,” I insisted. I believe I wanted her to seduce me with how much she wanted to kiss me. That was not how she took my words. Her way was better.
“Kiss me,” she demanded, and the words echoed across my mind, seeming to come from everywhere, everything, gripping me, pushing me, drawing my lips to hers. Unbidden, the memory of her positioning me last night made me tilt my head to one side. Recognising I was unsure of what to do with my hands, she swiftly guided them to her hips then wrapped me in her arms, stronger than I imagined. When our lips met, lightly at first, hers bore the chill of the night as mine offered my heat. Bliss closed my eyes, yet the image of her gaze still illuminated my private darkness. The echoes of her command refused to fade, became all I could hear: kiss me, kiss me, kiss me. This was all I wanted. I had to keep pressing myself into her. Her hands crept up my back, pulling me deeper. Within the cauldron of our embrace, something pure within me, I knew not what, manifested where our bodies touched and fused with something primal within her. It was merely a kiss, but I was unprepared for such a profound reaction. I was being absorbed, consumed. I did not want to end our embrace, I could not. But then our lips parted, her grasp shifted, became supportive. I tottered a half-step back and opened my eyes to see her radiance anew.
“You are wondrous, Winter. Thank you,” Layla said, licking her lips. “I can tell the two of you work hard to appear the same, but the unique pleasures of your kisses reveal the differences in your natures. It is my honour to enjoy them equally, and I swear I shall tell no one of the secret I have won tonight.”
“You had better not tell anyone,” Summer joked. “Our father would kill you.”
“Last night you said you were of age,” Layla remarked, sudden caution in her voice. “You are free to make your own decisions, yes?”
“We are. We came of age last equinox, I assure you,” I insisted, “but he would still kill you.”
The three of us laughed, unified in releasing some of the tension and we embraced as if we had been friends for years, rather than the span of a day. As our mirth quickly subsided, none of us were willing to let go. I felt Summer grasp my arm behind Layla’s waist, and grabbed her arm in return, binding our beautiful friend to us. She smiled at the pressure against her lower back, leaning into it like a cat responding to strokes. Amid our clinch it became obvious Layla carried the cool of the night like a cloak.
“You are chilly. Let us warm you,” Summer offered softly.
“I always seem cold. It is just the way I am. It bothers me none, so you should not concern yourselves about it,” Layla replied, sounding a little offended that Summer had mentioned it at all, before softening her tone. “But I welcome your warmth.”
Layla’s perpetual cool should have made it obvious she was not entirely what she presented herself as. Whether it was my growing affection for her, some subtle magic she had woven over my faculties or simple stupidity on my part, I do not know, but at the time I felt sorry for her and did not want to draw further attention to it. Summer and I looked upon our pale friend with affection and, wanting to help warm her, acted as one to plant kisses either side of her neck. This elicited delightful little gasps of pleasure, so we did it again and again. My lips discerned faint traces of scars on the side of her throat, but I was too occupied to enquire about them as Layla gave herself over to our attention with an inviting receptivity, pushing her neck this way and that to increase the pressure of our kisses.
Desire built between us. Summer and I were caught in a scramble for the same rush of Layla’s first kisses. It was stimulating, even if that level of intensity eluded us, but the remarkable truth was our passion was real. We were kissing a beautiful woman who was very much welcomed the experience, and I was not merely trying this out of novelty, it was arousing me. I had never felt that spark over a woman before and it confused me, so I slowed down, Summer eased off too. Instead, we switched to stroking Layla’s pale hair while wondering what we were going to do next. The night was working out marvellously, but I needed to know something, so I broke the silence.
“Just what is it that you want, Layla? With us, I mean,” I asked.
“What do I want? That is quite a complex question. I want to see what our friendship will become, how it will transform us. It has already begun to blossom. I feel the bond between the three of us and I trust you do too. I want that bond to deepen, to become… important, to us. You have given me much to consider and you should think on it as well. I trust you will both keep me in your thoughts,” she stated. “Since you asked, what do you want, Winter?”
Having my own enquiry turned against me made it abruptly clear that I had no idea where I saw this going. It seemed premature to be making plans and I had only been reacting so far. I looked to Summer and could see her smirking at my struggle to conjure an answer. She took pity on me and was about to say something when Layla raised a hand to silence her.
“Give her time. Let her think. I value her answer,” Layla interjected while never taking her eyes off me. Summer obeyed and stayed silent.
Summer was always better at this sort of thing than me. With Layla’s kind reassurance, I tried not to put too much pressure on myself as they patiently waited for me to speak.
“Um,” I began. Not a promising start. “I think you are very special, very beautiful, and the most interesting person we have ever met. I want to know everything about you. So, I suppose I hope we can explore this bond we have, as you say. I would love us to see the places you have been… with you… if you wanted. Moreover, I hope we can be good friends.”
“And?” Layla asked. With a single word and a flick of her shapely eyes she demanded more than I was comfortable sharing. Yet, I could find no reason to withhold exactly what I was truly thinking.
“I… I loved kissing you. I loved you telling me to kiss you. I want you to do that again,” I confessed.
“Very well. Kiss me,” she demanded very matter-of-factly. Those words had not fully left my thoughts since she said them earlier and they echoed over and over, louder and louder within my mind. They pushed all other considerations aside until it was obvious I had to do what she asked. Shifting within our embrace, using the leverage from gripping Summer’s arm, I pulled myself into position and firmly planted my lips upon Layla’s. At once, that glorious, incomprehensible sense of fusion was rekindled. With nearly half my body pressed against my sister, she provided a peculiar grounding sensation to contrast with the weird absorption Layla exerted. The tension of being held by, and simultaneously pulled between the two was heavenly. This was not just a kiss, it signified something. It felt profound, but quite what it meant I could not tell and in the heat of the moment, I did not care. It was briefer than before but once we parted, I felt fulfilled, excited and calm all at the same time.
Layla flashed her eyes at me, smiled and licked her lips. It felt as if I had been granted a gift greater than a faerie’s trove. I glanced at Summer and squeezed my arm about her waist. She seemed genuinely delighted for me.
Layla turned to Summer, cocked her head and asked, “And what do you want, Summer?”
Summer was much more certain of herself. She explained, “I want you to show us things we have never seen. I want us to travel the world with you. I want to learn what you want so perfectly that I can give it to you without thinking. But right now, I want a kiss as good as the one you just gave Win.”
“It would be my pleasure,” Layla huskily declared and at once they eagerly melded with a ferocity that dwarfed the way she had kissed me. Summer was always more at ease with new experiences, but this sudden, passionate abandon was unprecedented. Gripping us both, her eyes rolled back and slid shut. No sooner had they closed than Layla side-eyed me with that same rapacious hunger that had first told me how deep her desire ran. The eroticism of being locked in our intimate, three-way embrace, sent a tingling heat rushing from my nethers, up my torso. It was embarrassing and awkward but fascinating and erotic. Once again, I was saddened when they ceased.
Silence fell among us again, which swiftly fed my feelings of awkwardness. Though we clung to each other, we could not hold on to the moment. The intensity subsided and then vanished like mist on a sunny morning. As the bizarre lewdness swirled in mind, it began to occur to me that I was not at ease with this at all. At the same time, it was one of the hottest acts I had ever been a part of, and I would be lying if I said I had not relished it. I had no idea what to say, but the mood between us had shifted and we all felt it.
Layla spoke first, her grip around us relaxing, “Yes. You are both very special indeed and are now precious to me. We all have much to think on and, though I do not wish to be parted from you, it is late. I have stolen you from your sleep and now we must rest.” Neither of us wanted to hear that.
“We are not in the least tired,” Summer protested, not entirely truthfully.
“But you soon will be,” Layla asserted. “We shall have many more nights together if it pleases you both; take my word on it. I will return to this fallen tree morrow evening. Please come. I care not how late the hour but let it remain our secret. This bond of ours, the three of us as one. I would let no other jeopardise it. They would not understand. We should swear a pact between us.”
Slipping from our grasp with ease, Layla took a half step back and held out her hand, palm down, between us. I gazed at the red stone set in the ring upon her middle finger, its exact twin lay on her other hand. I briefly fantasized about the two of us being rings upon Layla’s fingers. It was a bizarre but diverting notion.
“To our secret bond I, Layla, pledge myself,” Layla vowed.
Without hesitation, Summer placed her hand atop Layla’s and promised, “To our secret bond I, Summer, pledge myself.”
It seemed a fitting way to mark the end of our evening, to swear ourselves to each other in hopes of more nights to come. I placed my hand upon theirs and completed our pact with the words, “To our secret bond I, Winter, pledge myself.”
“Blessings be upon you,” Layla said, taking our hands in a swift motion as she bowed to plant a kiss upon the knuckles of each. Then she turned and walked off into the dark.
We watched her go as far as our vision would allow, feeling a little wistful, before turning for home ourselves.
“So… Layla is our girlfriend now? Are we really courting a woman?” I wondered aloud.
“Maybe,” replied Summer, her tone a little confused.
“Are you not sure? You seemed certain when you were kissing her,” I pressed.
“Yes, I was not really thinking in the heat of it all. I’m not sure what came over me. It seemed the best thing at the time. How many chances does one get to kiss someone so beautiful, so perfect? I did not want her to imagine I was not interested and once we started kissing it became, well… that. She is precious, I will grant, but exactly what that means…” she paused. “I am unsure. I want her but does that mean we are girlfriends? Can we even have the same girlfriend? But I have no doubts she wants us. That feels good, does it not?”
I nodded firmly, though I struggled for a sense of clarity. Layla’s kisses were extraordinary, yet I felt incapable of fully comprehending my feelings for her. Was I falling in love? How would one know? Did I lust for her? Yes, absolutely, at times. At other points I found her intimidating. It was hard to reconcile never previously being attracted to women, with our undeniable mutual desire. I could still hear her words, “Kiss me,” whispering in my head, preserving the urge. We had sworn to keep our relationship a secret, which seemed wise, but why? A nascent attraction to women was the sort of thing I would probably want a heart-to-heart with Mother about. That was now out of the question. At present, romance felt like learning to ride a horse; very out of control when one moved fast for the first time.
“How does this affect the creed?” I wondered aloud. The creed was one of our ‘twin things’. It was how we referred to a vow we had made to each other when we were very young. It had been a simple but solemn promise, a single word: ‘Together’. To us it was an article of faith, encapsulating all our desires to be as close to one being as twins could be. It meant everything we wanted out of life would be shared equally between us. We had been children when we made it, long before thoughts of boyfriends or life partners. As we grew the prospect of romance causing a division between us had caused us concern, but here was a woman who wanted us both. “I never imagined ‘together’ would encompass who we were courting,” I added.
“There is that. I suppose it leaves the creed uncompromised,” Summer remarked. “So, we are romancing Layla. In secret. A woman we have only known for a day. How can we be courting someone we have just met? We do not even know where she is from. She is lovely, worldly, devastatingly attractive, a phenomenal kisser, she turns me on and… ah. I just answered my own question, have I not?”
“Yes, you have,” I smiled, then added more certainty, “There was no other choice. We had to.” As soon as I said it l knew why I was so certain. “You said she is worldly. That is the key. Yes, she is uncommonly attractive and into us and all those things. But more than that, she will show us the world. I’m sure of it. We dare not risk losing her. And I think we want to see it with her.”
“True, true. Still all very rushed though. It matters little, I suppose. I want to be with her too,” Summer nodded.
We made our way back to the cabin, crept up to our window and climbed in with as little sound as we could manage. Shortly, we had disrobed, slipped into our beds and snuggled down. After a moment, I whispered into the gloom.
“She looked at me when she kissed you. Such a look. I have never seen anything like it. Pure desire. To be honest, above all else, that was why I swore to our pact,” I announced. “Sorry I did not mention it earlier.”
“Worry not, sis. She looked at me when she kissed you. Those eyes. Incredible. Worthy of a secret,” Summer confessed.
We settled again but then I whispered: “I want Layla to touch me. Like rapture.”
“So do I,” Summer whispered back. “Do you want to rapture now?”
“Yes,” I nodded. So, we did. It was effortless.