Lady of the Veiled Vale

Water and Air

Raiden let her sleep as long as she needed. In truth, he was procrastinating. He knew his Lady had been bathing indoors too long. He had put off showing her the pools for long enough. He'd meant to take her sooner, but things kept coming up.

   When he sensed she was awake, he entered her suite. She was behind the changing screen.

   "I would not wear anything elaborate, milady. We go to bathe."

   Gwinneth stepped from behind the screen, hands on hips. "I thought we agreed..." Her scolding was halted mid-sentence by Raiden's attire―or, to be precise, his lack of it. He was wearing nothing more than a dressing gown. Without his coronet, the scales and scars were gone. She was vaguely disappointed.

   "I believe, Lady Gwinneth, that you are overdressed." He was, undeniably, smirking.

   She snatched up her dressing gown and ducked back behind the screen. In less time than he would have expected of an unassisted Lady, she was properly undressed.

   He swallowed, hard. "I, uh, thought we would teleport there, to limit... exposure. Deepest apologies for not taking you for a proper bath sooner."

   She shrugged, nearly dislodging the shoulder of her robe. "One supposes some secrets are best kept for the Oath-Bound. You wouldn't want casual guests to know everything―for security purposes. Completely understandable."

   He nodded, taking the easy out. "There are public bathing areas, but ours is indeed kept secret. Only the House Elf and fairies know of it."

   She didn't see towels laid out, so she had a fair idea why they'd know where the bathing area was. Her great great gran must have them waiting by the pool.

   "You stay here and keep Myrah company, okay?" Hrrtel cheeped in what she'd come to learn was agreement.

   Gwinneth held a hand out to Raiden, rather like a lady being escorted onto a dance floor. Something flashed in his eyes. He stepped as close as a waltzing partner, assumed a position similar to the dance, and held her that way for the brief teleport. Then he released her as though singed. Neither were breathing very steadily.

   "Your clothing goes here," he said abruptly, gesturing at a lovely marble bench. He shrugged out of his and flung it onto a matching bench. Before she got more than a glimpse of a broad, scarred back and startlingly tan backside, he was in the water.

   He surfaced, facing away from her. She waited to be sure he wouldn't peek, and he didn't. All the same, she was undressed and in the water almost as fast as he.

   "Mmm," she murmured appreciatively. The water was cool, but pleasantly so.

   Raiden was still turned away, so she poked his arm. "It's safe."

   He peeked over one shoulder before turning to face her. "Soap sands are in boxes along the edge. They look like rocks, see?" He swam over to one, and opened it for her. When she reached for a handful, he backpedaled to a safe distance.

   "The willows act as bathing curtains."

   Without waiting to see if she availed herself of the more private accommodations, he chose a seat carved in a niche halfway across the pond, facing away from her, and set to work scrubbing his hide.

   Gwinneth decided the submerged seat was preferable to the confines of the willow. She already had soap sand, and he was obviously enough of a gentleman not to look. It took some doing to get the hang of the sands underwater, and washing her tail. She took great care and time with her new appendage.