Sparkling Ivy

20

"I hate the sea."

Sirce crossed her arms, mouth set. Two days had passed since the news of Minerva's loyalty and somehow they were still drifting across expansive blue.

The summer sun was harsher than before, his light searing. The beams ricocheted off the waves, glittering like bouncing diamonds. It dried out Sirce's skin, her eyes, her lips. Left her back stinging with sweat, her mouth coated with salt.

"I must admit, I'm bored of it. There's only so much aquamarine you can take." Atalanta grinned wearily, leaning beside the princess. With the youthfulness, life in her eyes, no one could have guessed the girl was on the brink of death only a week ago. The huntress wiped her brow. "What I'd give for a spot of rain."

"Amen to that," Sirce snickered. She couldn't stop her gaze from lingering. Atalanta's hair was pushed to the side by the light wind, her lips were parted from the heat. Dear gods. I need to get off this boat.

Sirce sighed and pushed away, heavy steps carrying her to the bow of the ship. The princess peered down into the roaring waves, white frothing as the Drakōn plowed forward. The sky above was mostly clear, mingled with a few whispers of silver cloud here and there. So different from home.

Eila was known for its blissful summers. The forests turned apple-green and orange flowers sprouted in the long grasses. The Sweet-berries were picked by the chubby hands of children, streaking their lips with sticky scarlet juice. Young brides-to-be were bathed in the sacred river of Kordelia Adoration, their long hair braided with the goddess's white jasmine. The men would retire from the woes of war for the months of Hekatombaion, Metageitnion and Boedromion. They would turn from the sword to the lyre, dance in blue silks beneath the warm moonlight. That is, until Sirce became a problem.

Sirce couldn't help but squint into the sea's depths, hoping to catch a glimpse of one of Llyr's graceful children. When Sirce was young her mother had whispered stories of the great seafarers off the mainland.

She would tuck her daughter into her bed, eyes sharp with focus as the girl begged for a story. Sirce could still hear her voice in the stillness, felt the usual chilliness of her mother melt away only for a moment.

I will tell you one story, that's all. Far away from Eila and the mainland, there are many little islands. Mortal do not inhabit these places, but the Spirits of the land; nymphs, nereids, satyrs...

Sirce pinched the bridge of her nose, heart pattering loudly. "How did it come to this?"

"I'm not sure."

Atalanta laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling sadly. There it is again. That glaze came over the huntress's eyes again - the same one she saw as Atalanta had reached for her while gold blood ran across her body. The look that turned her stomach inside out. Atalanta sucked in a breath. "I have no fucking clue how it came to this Sirce. But..."

The girl ducked her head, cheeks pinking. Sirce blinked and cocked her head, that feeling grabbing hold of her chest. "What?"

"I'm not afraid of what it will come to next."

Sirce smirked. "You should be. I only bring trouble."

"Trouble, huh?" Atalanta sniggered. "You flatter yourself."

Sirce felt her entire body seize up as she looked at the huntress. Something was wrong. Fear electrified the air between them as their gazes locked, both unwavering. Her voice faltered as Sirce gasped, "Trust me, I bring on serious trouble."

She didn't know what was coming over her. Everything was building up inside like a volcano. Sirce could barely think, barely control herself as she reached for Atalanta's hand. What are you doing! She tugged her friend closer, body trembling. Her breath was coming in ragged bursts as she began to lean in.

Stop. What the fuck are you doing? STOP BEING STUPID.

She didn't. Sirce was as stupid as it got. Pressure was building in her temples as she grasped the huntress's cheek. Oh gods. Oh fucking gods.

She expected the woman to draw back, to laugh, to break the tension. Nope.

Atalanta's hand reached up and brushed her cheek gently. Sirce hardly heard her as the huntress rasped, "Like I said, trouble doesn't scare me."

"You really shouldn't have said that," Sirce hissed with a fierce grin. One of her hands stroked Atalanta's neck. She couldn't stop trembling as she whispered, "May I?"

There was not a trickle of hesitation as the woman growled, "Fuck yes."

Sirce grasped her and pulled Atalanta into a kiss. The volcano erupted.

Their lips fit together like puzzle pieces. A burst of honey, nutmeg, rosemary tingled her tongue as Sirce's mouth pressed against Atalanta's. They went from tentative softness to rock hard in a matter of seconds, their bodies recognising how much they wanted this.

Sirce's hands dug into the other girl's hair, clinging to her like moss to a rock. Atalanta pushed back, her tongue gently scraping against the princess's. Sirce felt a shudder run between her shoulder blades as Atalanta's hands grasped her waist, began guiding her back to the cabin stairs. She obeyed.

They stumbled across the deck, mouths unflinchingly attached as they pushed back and forth fierce, wild kisses. Sirce was blind as Atalanta pressed her lips hard, tongue flicking her own playfully. They leaned against one another, legs tangling and hands reaching everywhere. There was so much...Sirce could not find a word. It was like her body had been waiting for this, waiting to melt into Atalanta. The close quarters on the ship was the straw that broke the camel's back. That and Atalanta's unfairly beautiful face.

By some miracle they made it halfway down the stairs before Sirce lost her balance.

The princess let out an amused grunt as she fell on her back, Atalanta staring down at her. The huntress grinned. "Oh you are a troublesome thing."

Goosebumps spread over Sirce's arms as Atalanta leaned down to her, hands running over her stomach. Her back arched as the calloused fingers trailed over her belly in long torturous strokes, as the huntress pressed cruel kisses to the princess's neck.

"I'm never going to get that throne now," Sirce chuckled softly, arms wrapping around Atalanta's back.

"I beg to differ," Atalanta crooned, tongue trailing up Sirce's neck. "How could Eila say no to a woman like you. Look at you - you're fucking hot."

The princess laughed, heat rising up her legs as her hands grabbed hold of the huntress's ass. "Shut up peach-ass. They'll replace me with you if it's that simple."

"Let them try, princess." Atalanta nipped her ear, hands sliding higher.

"When this is over, I'll whoop your ass if you call me that again."

"Of course, princess."

Sirce smiled toothily. "Oh you're going to pay for that, huntress."

Atalanta beamed as the princess slid from her grip and pressed her against the wall, delivering a kiss that even Kordelia could not rival.