This is part of a short story called "Goodnight, Eizabeth". Uillceal [alias Gwyn] and Elizabeth are sword dancers in an unnamed city by the Gev desert. They go out for the night, but the real action happens when they get back and Elizabeth introduces Gwyn to 'spooning'.
*
"I know! Lets go out tonight," Elizabeth said. "Some good food, some wine, maybe meet some men. Come my dark, sad little friend, lets go out. Leave your secrets behind, they'll be here waiting in the morning when we come back."
So we went out that night. It was the first time I had gone out at night to have fun in a long time. For years the night had been my time for whoring, thieving, killing, sorcery, or to just hide in the shadows. The hours of the night were my working time. It was difficult to think of it as a time for eating, talking, and drinking. I'd never been much of a drinker anyway. I could usually nurse an ale for a couple of hours while hiding out in a dark tavern. Barmaids often forget I'm there which is just the way I like it.
Now all my old comforts were being thrown to the winds. Elizabeth wouldn't let me take my weapons or even let me wear my black robe.
"Give it the night off," she said; sniffing it disapprovingly. "Maybe you could call some of those fey like in that story you told me to wash it for you."
"You shouldn't speak lightly of the fey, Elizabeth." I reproved her, though I couldn't believe any of the silver race ever taking affront to golden 'Liz. Elizabeth started digging through my bags looking for something for me to wear. I never unpack.
"Well not much to choose from, but . . . Hey! What's this?" She was holding up a red silk dress. "I didn't think you knew any other colors but black, grey, brown and green."
"Oh it was given to me by a women I midwifed for some months ago," I remembered. "She had little money and said she no longer needed the dress and I could have it. I was thinking of selling it or shortening it in case I had to whore again."
"Well put it on," Elizabeth said holding it out to me. I got up and started taking off my tunic and skirt when I felt Elizabeth's eyes on me. For the first time in ages I felt self-conscious getting undressed. Me and Elizabeth had been sharing the room for a few weeks now and had gotten dressed and undressed in front of each other and even shared baths and the bed, but suddenly this was different. She was watching me disrobe; appraising how I looked.
I stripped down to my camisole and short-pants and reached for the dress.
"No," she said. "Those won't do with this dress. Take them off." How come I could never argue with her? I pulled the camisole up over my head baring my breasts to Elizabeth's eyes. My nipples became hard under her gaze.
"Lucky," she said. "Those don't need any support at all."
"That's because they're only half as big as yours," I pointed out to her.
I turned from her and pulled down my short-pants and let them fall to the floor. I was completely naked. I half-turned to her and grabbed the red dress from her hands.
"You have a nice slender form Gwyn. All muscle. We should get you something more revealing to wear for our shows."
"No thank you," I said. "I don't want to reveal anymore of myself then I already have."
I put the dress on and Elizabeth did up the buttons in the back. I was both scandalized and titillated by my reflection in our mirror. The red silk clung to every curve of my body and Elizabeth's appreciative stare over my shoulder made me feel nearly naked. I found myself uncharacteristically twirling around letting the skirt flare up and show my legs. It felt sexier then whoring.
"I know why that young mother no longer needed the dress." said Elizabeth. "It had already served its purpose."
Indeed I hadn't felt that sexy since the King's Beltane ball over four years ago. That was when Sileres had been given the Barrow-sword and been declared the Wren King. It seemed two lifetimes ago. I suddenly felt tired. I wanted to cry again, but my self-restraint wouldn't let me.
"All this dressing-up is so tiring," I complained.
"Oh don't you back out on me now. I'm going out and you'd better go with me. Throw on some makeup while I get dressed."
I rummaged through Elizabeth's rouges and face paints for something subtle for my cheeks and eyes. Going out without any makeup would have been conspicuous. The general rule here was lots of red for the face and eyes. I decided on black instead. It made me feel comfortable.
In the mirror I could see the reflection of Elizabeth stripped naked looking through the closets and dressers for something to wear, throwing clothes hither and yon. When she bent over her shapely hind-end would fill the mirror and her golden-haired gigh was visible between her muscular thighs.
She found a dress she liked and held it high over her head. The stretching movement accentuated the shape and slope of her large breasts. If she had been an thumb less in height the effect would have been corpulent. Instead it was voluptuous. I stopped halfway through putting on my make-up to watch the burlesque in the mirror.
"What are you looking at?" Elizabeth held the dress against her body in false modesty; barely hiding anything. "If I known you were a spooner I'd have found another partner."
"Spooner? I'm surprised this backwoods, uptight, paternalistic society has a name for it." I turned in the chair and gave her a good looking over from head to toe and back. "I seem to remember you getting a good eyeful just before."
"Are we going out or not?" Elizabeth turned away and slipped the dress over her head.
Heading out through the Goat's Head we got our share of looks and whistles and an angry stare from the inn-keeper. "I don't be having any whores in my place." she yelled after us. "No whores!"
"Don't you worry." said Elizabeth throwing her a kiss. "We're not whores, just sluts." The men clapped and cheered and the women hissed as we passed out the door into the darkening streets.
"Where to first." I asked Elizabeth. "I'm new at this."
"Let's get a quiet drink and a little something to eat first," she suggested.
It was a clear night with Caldon's thin waxing crescent just rising over the sea and the Broken Sky hanging in the north. We went to a cafe and sat outdoors sharing a carafe of sweet wine and a spicy fish dish with onions and bean curd. I sat looking west to watch the lightning and dust daemons dance over the Gev beyond the cliffs. I didn't want to look to the north at that kaleidoscopic interstellar scar, the Broken Sky, and I'm not partial to Caldon either. I always feel He's looking at me like a stern Father with that purple eye of His.
Two men, merchants from out of town, offered to pay our tab, but I rebuffed them. Elizabeth didn't understand, but I explained to her that back in Tuirn if a man paid your tab you were obliged to go under the table and suck him off. When you came back up he'd be gone and there'd be money on the table.
"I was the best cocksucker in all of Tuirn," I stated proudly. "The Tuirn men you see don't fuck women; they fuck boys dressed like women. And when your under the tablecloth they can pretend they don't know what's happening. That way they're not cheating on their wives. 'True as a Tuirn' we say in the Ys lands."
Afterwards I bought a cheroot from the maitre' d. Elizabeth was scandalized at a woman smoking, but I enjoyed every puff. Some passers-by did stare at us, but we're sword-dancers I told Elizabeth. We're supposed to be outside social conventions.
"We're already ostracized so why bother trying to be 'nice girls'?" I said. "Amongst the Keltii of the Ys lands it is the women who rule. I should take you there someday." I made smoke animals when people weren't looking to make Elizabeth laugh.
I'd have been content to end the night like that, but Elizabeth said it was time to party. So we left the café and went to a private house the maitre' d had told Elizabeth about. He said we would be most welcome there. The way he had said it made me a little worried. We were two young unescorted women going to an unknown place, but I hadn't left all my night-time equipment behind.
I didn't have my cloak, but I had three throwing blades in a garter around my left thigh and a poison tipped comb in my hair. My little purse also hid components for Wind Curtain and Spider Climb if I needed them. I didn't like to needlessly go into potentially dangerous situations, but I felt prepared to handle most ordinary circumstances.
The house was on a dark street, more like an alley, with three bouncers hanging by the door. It was a situation I'd have ordinarily avoided unless I had business and then there is always a back way in for my usual mode of entry. Elizabeth just walked up and said the maitre d' of the café had set us and we wanted to dance and have fun.
"Oh honey we can have a lot of fun. You don't need to go in to have fun with us," said one. Then he noticed me. "What's with your friend? She don't look like fun to me? Tell her to go home."
"Oh no," Elizabeth said. "Me and Gwyn are together all the time. All the time." That sounded rather suggestive to them and me.
"Sounds good to me," said another one of the boys. "I like the way she looks. Red's my favorite color. Hey, darling," he called, starting down the porch toward me; looking me up and down. "Let's have some fun!"
I pulled up my skirt and showed him a lot of leg. It was going to be the last thing he would ever see aside from the blur of the throwing blade hitting him in the throat.
Then the door flew open and the two biggest men in the city came stumbling out, bumping into the door-muscle, and nearly knocking them and themselves over.
"Sorry. Sorry," said the bigger of the two. "Sorry."
"Sorry? Fuck the little shits. Sorry?" said his thinner partner. "Oh. Good evening ladies," he said turning to Elizabeth and me with a flourishing bow. "Please pardon my disgustingly vulgar language. I was about to vomit but I puked instead."
"Hi, Gwyn." said the other "Hi, Elizabeth." Apparently he held no grudges. It was Desz and Goth, the city-watchmen. I quickly let the skirt of my dress fall back down.
"What are two nice girls like you doing here?" asked Desz.
"One might as well ask what two on-duty watchmen are doing here if the evidence wasn't so overwhelming," I said, waving my hand across my face.
"Investigating!" said Goth proudly and loudly and full of wine. He apparently wasn't very practiced with vintages.
"Eh. Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," said Desz staring pointedly at his partner.
"But you said we were - ugh."
