No Harm?

Writers: Anika, Suzee
Date Posted: 19th May 2015

Characters: Eirock, Sophque
Description: Eirock seeks out Sophque to ask about his new clothing and tell her about the bequest, but gets distracted.
Location: Sunstone Seahold
Date: month 13, day 11 of Turn 7

Eirock

Sophque

She hummed as she worked with her hot iron to put the perfect crease
into the trouser leg on her board. The stitching had flattened out
nicely and the dark fabric would retain the crisp look needed for fine
clothing.

"Am I interrupting?" Eirock asked softly, not wanting to startle her
while she worked with the hot irons.

She wasn't quite startled but she was surprised by the soft voice
behind her. She set down the iron on a separate pad and turned with a
smile. "Not at all," she said.

As always, Eirock was impressed with how her smile lit up her whole
face and his gaze lingered briefly on her lips before he answered.
"So, are we close to time for a fitting? I've been waiting with
baited breath in hopes that more measuring would be required," he
teased lightly.

Her ears felt a bit hot but the smile didn't waver. She was beginning
to understand his rather impish sense of humor and it tickled as much
as embarrassed her at times. "Well," she said crossing to a large
wardrobe. "I do have your tunic almost ready for hemming. Would you
like to try it on?"

"Certainly," he replied with a grin, setting aside the parcels in his
hand on a nearby table. He noticed she didn't blush, though her ears
pinked so perhaps she was becoming immune to his teasing. "Is it the
blue, or the one the color of my eyes?" he asked, remembering her
comment when she took his measurements about how women found that
attractive.

She couldn't help the smile or the light in her eyes. "Both of them
actually," she turned and pulled out the blue. She'd taken her time
with the seams and her stitches were neat and even where they showed.
She'd taken the time to put in encased seams so no raw edges showed no
matter which side of the garment you saw.

The fact that she enjoyed her work was written all over her face, and
he stepped close to take a look at her handiwork. "You _have_ been
busy, haven't you?" Taking the tunic from her he scrutinized it
closely, holding it up and turning it this way and that. Though
unable to pinpoint the specific details that made it so, it was
obvious to him that the tunic was superior quality, probably the
finest he'd ever owned. "Exceptional," he murdered still looking at
the piece trying to decide those aspects that made it stand out above
others in his wardrobe.

"So you like it?" She found she was just a little anxious about his
opinion of her work.

Looking down into her light brown eyes, the corners of his lips
twitched and he considered teasing her but decided against it this
time. "Very much so," he replied honestly, it's probably the finest
I've ever owned."

That made her happy. Words like that were rare from highborns. "Well,
you shall have two," she said as she brought out the other one. This
one was the color of his eyes but she had over-stitched with black
thread with knots and a pair of swirled runners in trapunto padding
along the yoke and collar.

"I stand corrected," he said, shaking his head. Sophque had captured
just the right balance, because the tunic was rich and stately without
being too ornate. "_This_ is the finest I've ever owned. You put the
crafters to shame. How did you come to be so talented?"

"Necessity," she said with a simple shrug though she glowed at his
praise. How many hours had she spent alone in the sewing room at night
over the last several turns? "I've watched the weavers when they don't
realize and seen how they do things. Then I just use my imagination. I
thought you might like the runners." She smoothed her hand over the
puffed area of the collar. "Would you like to try it on?"

"Definitely." He handed back the blue tunic and reached for the
button on his shirt, eyes dancing with mischief once again as he
anticipated her reaction.

Her own eyes widened and she turned her head though to be truthful she
dearly wanted to watch. She remembered what the muscles under his
garment felt like. They were toned and rippled with strength. She felt
her face begin to flame. This was one of the reasons the weaver
crafters were all male. What was she doing thinking she could do
something like this. Her mind chased itself in circles until she
couldn't think and it was all _his_ fault. She'd thought she had a
handle on this and could deal with his teasing but obviously _not_.

With an evil chuckle, Eirock quickly removed the shirt and reached for
the green tunic pulling it over his head. He so loved to see that
blush on her cheeks. Really, she had such and adorable face and he
wondered what she would look like with her reddish brown tresses let
down to frame it. Would they reach beyond the swell of her ample
breast, to her waist perhaps? Yet again, he found himself needing to
curb the direction of his thoughts regarding the seamstress so he
focused on the tunic. Even as the fabric settled on muscular form, he
knew that it was a perfect fit, outside of hemming. "You can look,"
he said, with just a hint of residual humor in his voice.

"Thanks," she strangled out and turned back. Her eyes widened once
again and she breathed out a soft "oooh, that looks nice," she walked
around to the side. "Move your arms," she wanted to make she'd left
enough room for him to move easily.

He did as she requested, moving them up, down, and out to the sides.
"It's comfortable," he noted appreciatively. The Steward detested
having to suffer through a special occasion in uncomfortable clothing.

"Cross-over in front," she said demonstrating. "I want to see if it
pulls in the back. She leaned back to watch the fabric.

Following her instruction, he crossed his arms and flexed his muscles
so that they stretched the fabric taut. Though he knew it was
ludicrous, he had the incredibly juvenile urge to show off in front of
Sophque. Something he hadn't felt since he was a teenager. Internally
chiding himself he tried to decide what it was about her that brought
out such an uncharacteristic side of him. "Like this?" he asked.

The way the fabric stretched and puckered she thought she might have
to put a gusset into the mid back seam. "Yes," she answered. "Just
like that," her eyes crinkled at the pose he struck and she ran her
hand over his muscular back. He was certainly something and whatever
that something was made her sigh in appreciation.

At the touch and audible breath, he turned and found his face just
above hers. Without much thought, he reached out to softly lift her
chin, wondering if her eyes would be brown or gold in this light, but
it was her lips that held his attention. Ever so slowly he bent down,
thinking there could be no harm in one soft kiss.

Frozen she watched him come oh so slowly yet she couldn't or didn't
want to move. Instead her lips were soft and pliant when his met hers
and for just a moment she responded. Then she pulled away and flushed
scarlet. "Sir, I'm..." her hands rose to her face but she couldn't
hide the fact that she'd kissed him back. It was too late for that.
Now he was going to think she was easy pickings. "I'm sorry, I
can't..."

Reluctantly, he stepped back. "No, I apologize. As tantalizing as
you are, I should not have been so forward," he said, feeling
immediately guilty. She was in a difficult position, widowed and with
a daughter to care for. It was wrong of him to have been so callous
of her reputation. Though he'd had more than one dalliance with a
hold worker while Steward at Sawtooth Seahold, he honestly did not see
Sophque in the same light at all.

Her heart was beating so fast, she didn't know quite what to think.
Sophque lifted her eyes to his. She couldn't lie to herself, she'd
liked it but she knew where that road lead and she needed to stay
strong for Sophine if for no one else. She nodded and reached to
remove the garment. "I'll need to put in a gusset at the back."

He helped her to pull it off and reached for his shirt, the light
teasing mood gone. She'd responded. Her soft lips had moved against
his ever so briefly and tasted oh so sweet, but she 'd pulled away.
Sophque had said she couldn't and he'd taken that to mean because of
her reputation, but perhaps there was someone else. She couldn't
possibly still be mourning her lost husband could she? As he buttoned
his shirt he remembered his reason for coming. The bequest. He
wasn't really sure if this were the best time or not and he hesitated
taking a peek at the seamstress as he considered it.

She took the garment after marking it with chalk, and hung it back up.
"Eirock," she said loving the way his name felt on her tongue. She had
enjoyed the kiss more than she should have. His station was much
higher than hers. So as much as she might want more it would be very
bad for her reputation and future at the hold. "I'll have it ready for
you day after tomorrow."

"That's perfect, Sophque," he replied softly wanting to say more but
unsure what exactly he could say.

Last updated on the May 31st 2015

Welcome to Triad Weyrs!

No Harm?