"This is going to be such fun!" Natalia said as they descended the wide stone steps leading to the Cathedral Cavern beneath the plateau village of On the High Place.
Rick slipped his arm around her waist. "I hope you enjoy it."
He couldn't help but marvel at his good fortune, to be on his way to a holy Dorianite festival with a loving and lovely woman, his bride-to-be.
Villagers and travellers gave the both of them appreciative looks as they came into the warm, spacious temple of stone. Down here, sheltered from the winter weather above, the hot springs made the caves almost tropical. At the guidance of some of their new acquaintances, they had dressed accordingly.
Rick wore a maroon silk shirt that did little to conceal the width of his shoulders and the sculpted muscles of his chest and arms. His cream-colored trousers clung to his long legs. His hair, clean and shining, was tied back in a simple horsetail that dangled most of the way to his waist.
He felt mildly self-conscious as local women pointed and stared. He knew he was tall, dark and handsome, but that was Dorian's doing and not his own. As for his impressive build, well, anybody could do the same with enough sword practice. It wasn't as if he was anything special.
Natalia, on the other hand ... in her every step, her every movement, he could see Dorian's generosity at work. She had inherited her mother's ivory skin and changeable, northern-sky eyes, not to mention the glossy blue-black hair that would have fallen to below her hips if she hadn't twisted it into a redoubled plait.
Her long shirt was fine, snowy-white linen trimmed at the neck and sleeves and hem in frothy lace, and was so thin that a bodice or vest should have been needed to preserve modesty. Natalia had opted to go without, which left the ripe curves of her breasts clearly defined and visible. Her nipples, already tight with anticipation and excitement, stood out in little pinpoints and made Rick feel somewhat delirious.
She also wore a colorful skirt, purple and blue and silvery silk all woven together. It was drawn high on one side, exposing shapely leg to well above the knee. A matching scarf tied off the braid in her hair, and a pair of low blue slippers finished the outfit.
Yes, by the gods, she was beautiful and strong and gutsy. All the things he'd admired in women, all the things that he and Damon both had looked for ever since they met Raven and their lives had changed forever. And best of all, Natalia was accompanying him to this festival, not that they might just share each other's pleasure but that they might share each other's delight in the pleasures of others.
He still shivered when he recalled that night with Sorcha. How he and Natalia had begun talking about it, how he'd been tempted to lie and declare her the only woman he could ever want. But she had been understanding, no, eager, to invite Sorcha to share their bed. Not grudgingly, as if she feared that she would have to make allowances to keep him. Not angrily, planning to make him pay by witholding herself from him. Openly, honestly, with a sincere and reverent wish to make all three of them happy.
He hadn't wasted any time, but swiftly fetched Sorcha to their room. Natalia's only wish after witnessing and enjoying their copupling had been that their wedding might be speeded along, that she too could finally, fully experience the entirety of Dorian's Gift.
The Cathedral Cavern was not actually a cathedral, although it was certainly a cavern. The ceiling soared, majestically adorned in rock formations and glittering crystals. The floor was a sea of smooth, frozen ripples.
At one end, several springs both hot and cold trickled down the walls and through a series of ponds and basins before all ending in one large pool. Already, the shores of that stone lake were littered with discarded clothes as people swam and played and caressed in the water.
Low tables were stacked high with soft blankets, furs, cushion, and woven mats for the comfort of the festival-goers. Several were already in use.
Natalia gasped in surprise, this being her first sight of so many men and women entwined in so many different ways. Rick glanced at her, and was thrilled to see only excitement in her eyes. Rising color pinked her cheeks, and she leaned to press the whole length of her side and hip against him. He dropped the arm around her waist to give her bottom a good squeeze.
"So," she said as if they were strolling through the marketplace, "see anything you like?"
He let his gaze sweep the room. "Oh, yes."
The women of On the High Place were on the short side, and rugged as many of the mountain people were. Some of them had an aristocratic beauty that bespoke Turan heritage, while others had the wiry build of Crysians. They all conducted themselves with an openness that would have been unusual even in an Orelarian village. Here in the Chaos Mountains, marriages involved many people, and there was no such thing as adultery.
Even more unusual was the number of dwarves in attendance. The village atop the plateau looked as if it held a mere couple of hundred people, but the rocky bluff was honeycombed with caverns and tunnels where hundreds more, human and dwarf alike, lived in very close harmony. Even co-mated harmony.
The dwarves tended to be protective and jealous of their women, often binding them with severe social strictures. herefore, it was a surprise to Rick to see dwarfwomen, and especially ones in various states of undress, cavorting with dwarven and human males alike. He'd seen (and felt) naked elfmaids aplenty, and had sampled beauties from a variety of nations and regions, but if someone had told him a few weeks ago that he'd have the opportunity to get better acquainted with Reghar's rare jewels, he would have greeted this with some disbelief.
Still, here he was, and as he looked at them he saw that they were quite different from what he would have expected. For one thing, they didn't all have beards. Some did, but these seemed to be the older females, and the beards were fine and downy. They did all have long, thick hair where a man's sideburns would be, and many of them had braided these and adorned them with gold beads or jewels.
Their faces were broader and flatter, with thicker brows and more deep-set eyes, but there was a rugged beauty about their features that made Rick think of a view of mountain peaks against the sky.
Their coloration tended toward earth-tones, though here and there would be a blond. From something Mokik had said a long time ago, Rick knew that golden hair was muchly admired.
Evidence of their greater physical strength was apparent in their thick, densely-muscled limbs. The smallest dwarven female looked capable of combatting the average human male, with a better-than-even chance of winning. But, despite their sturdy, compact bodies, they were undeniably feminine.
"Hello, handsome and beautiful," someone said. "Going to stand here watching all day, or are you going to join the fun?"
It was Deegie, the seamstress who had outfitted Natalia. She had gotten her voluptuous body into a tight emerald-green tunic, left unlaced so far that her full breasts bulged into the V of the neckline. Her skin was the shade of almost-translucent white that was often found in redheads, so pale that the veins could be seen tracing along beneath a smattering of freckles. Her red curls, much more carroty and springy than Sorcha's auburn hair, were fluffed about her heart-shaped face.
"There's just so much to see," Natalia replied, smiling.
She and Deegie had hitten it off at once despite their many differences. Deegie, for instance, was involved in a loose orbit of six co-mates and ten children all sharing the same house. Deegie was bouncy, flippant, quick to laugh. She also had the expected firey temper, but hers was more like a spark landing on the skin -- a sudden pop and a sting and then gone.
"Like Trish's candy shop," Rick added. "Too many treats and not enough pennies!"
Deegie brushed her breasts against his arm. "Oh? That looks like a full purse to me!"
"Want to count my coins?"
She deliberately let her eyes rove over his body. "Hmmm ... I think I can change a shilling!"
"Yes," Natalia said, "but can you change a crown?" In a distinctly Turan gesture, she rubbed her hand along Rick's thigh in such a way as to pull the fabric of his trousers taut over the swelling at his groin. Brought on by the anticipation and sensually-charged atmosphere, he was already well-aroused.
