CW - non graphic spicy scene towards the latter half of the chapter!

The First Night

I shouldn’t be getting awkward over this. It’s not like I haven’t been in this exact same situation hundreds of times before. And yet - there’s just something about her gaze. It’s like she sees right through me, down straight to my core. 

Her stare is entrancing.

“The water should be warm enough now. Here’s a spare towel - do you want some fresher clothes? I can wash these and have them back to you by tomorrow,” the shop keeper smiles kindly, making me a little uneasy. Why is she being so nice to me? Why is she treating me as anything other than just something to be used?

Maybe it’s been too long since I surrounded myself with good people. In fact, I know it has. It’s been so many years that I’ve forgotten how kind people act. I’ve been alone for so long…

It’s my own fault. I could’ve stayed with my mother, but…I can’t forgive her. It’s been over two decades but I will never be able to forgive her for stopping me that day.

I let out a long sigh. I can’t allow myself to think about that day. I just have to focus on my mission: hunt down that evil pig and then I’ll have my vengeance. Her vengeance. I’m doing this as much for myself as I am for her.

“Temi? Do you want me to clean them or not?” The shop keeper raises a curious eyebrow and I give myself a mental shake. Smiling gratefully at her, I awkwardly strip down and hand my clothes to the shop keeper. She respectfully turned around whilst I stripped but at this point I wouldn’t have cared if she’d watched me anyway. We’re about to sleep together, so. She’ll see all of me then anyway.

The warm water feels amazing and I have to fight to stay awake. I’ve been travelling for so long, constantly on guard even when resting. It feels incredible to finally have a warm bath but I can’t fall asleep. I have a poison to obtain, after all.

It’s only as I’m getting out of the bath that something occurs to me - the shop keeper called me Temi. I never told her my name, let alone my nickname. Sure, Temi is what I go by, and the name I give most people, but…I should’ve picked up on this earlier, when I signed that contract. My name was written there too I’m pretty sure. But I stupidly didn’t focus on that part too much - I read the real contract and didn’t think that my name would have any part to play. I don’t know whether my name was recorded as Temi or if it was my real name: Artemisia. 

Stepping out of the washroom, my eyes instantly go to the shop keeper as she sits comfortably on the bed, a book in her hands. She looks far more relaxed than I feel currently. 

“How did you know my name?” I try to keep the accusation from my tone, but I can’t help feeling suspicious. Despite that, my instincts haven’t told me anything negative about the shop keeper. She smiles a little sadly, placing her book down to one side.

“I’d considered that you probably didn’t recognise me, but this is more than I realised. We’ve met before, Temi.”

I’m fairly certain I’d remember meeting someone as striking as this woman, but then again there are so many faces I’ve seen, so many beds I’ve warmed that they all tend to merge into one, with only a couple of exceptions.

“Remind me of your name, maybe that will ring a bell?” I try to keep my tone light, teasing. I still need that poison so I can’t afford to mess this up. The shop keeper regards me coolly for a moment before shaking her head. 

“I think I’ll leave that for you to figure out, actually. If you still haven’t remembered by the fifth night then I’ll tell you regardless. But,” she smiles coyly, “I’m certain that you will remember all by yourself.”

Perhaps she’s right. Or perhaps she is extremely misguided. I’m a little intrigued by the outcome, myself.

“Well then, shall we get to it?” I’m feeling nervous and I’m sure that the shop keeper can tell. I’m normally better at hiding it than this, but she continues to throw me off, leaving my mind a busy mess.

“You have to build mood, my dear,” she laughs, the sound pulling at that deep, hidden part of my heart again. “I can’t spontaneously get ready, if you know what I mean. Here, come sit beside me,” she coos, patting the bed next to her, that smile calming despite its evident secrets. I’m not fully dressed anymore - after cleaning up I put on a large shirt belonging to the shop keeper that seems like sleepwear of some sort. The fabric is soft and smells faintly floral - not something I’d expect from the shop keeper herself, but then again she does work using many herbs and other plants.

“You truly do have beautiful eyes,” she whispers shortly after I get comfortable on the bed. Raising both of my eyebrows, I rest my head on the soft pillow, staring directly into the dark abyss of the shop keeper’s eyes - they’re such a dark brown that to begin with I thought they were entirely black. Still though, my eyes are darker than hers. My skin, too. Only her hair seems darker than mine, somehow - her curls look almost impossibly dark, especially in comparison to her almost pasty complexion. She looks healthy, but slightly sickly at the same time, like she has a deep, permanent fatigue etched into her very being. 

I probably look the same way.

“You’re not the first to have said that, and I’m sure you won’t be the last either,” I tease, leaning closer to her, my fingertips ghosting over her forearm. I have strong arms - I know I do, from all that practice with a bow. But the strength beneath her skin feels entirely different to mine. The tasks that have honed our bodies are very different, I’m sure. I fight to survive, I live to hunt. The shop keeper is a potion-maker. An apothecary. I’m not even sure where she gets her strength from - but then again, I know absolutely nothing about this woman.

“Oh really? Quite popular then, aren’t you. I should consider myself honoured,” the shop keeper practically purrs, her fingers brushing across my shoulder, drawing a lazy line down my side. This is so foreign to me - I’m used to just getting on with it. I don’t normally share many coherent sentences with the other person. Getting impatient, I reach up to cup the shop keeper’s cheek, smoothing my thumb across her lips. They’re soft, a defiant little smile etched upon them. I want that mouth to be gasping my name, not teasing me with sweet words. 

Taking her hand in mine, I slowly kiss her fingers and knuckles, not letting my eyes leave hers at any point. I want to slowly undo each of those buttons down the front of her shirt, revealing the soft skin beneath. But something about her smile whispers to me that perhaps she’s more nervous for this than I realised. I don’t want to rush her into anything.

“Done with talking already, are we?” The shop keeper whispers, lightly placing her hand on my waist, drawing me closer. 

“Mm, we can talk later,” I murmur against her shoulder, blowing cold air onto her skin before trailing light kisses up her neck. She shudders against me ever so slightly, adding more fuel to the fire she’s been steadily coaxing out of me. Finally, finally, her lips find mine and I relinquish control to her instantly, more than happy to open up for her. Slowly, our urgency grows and I reach for the front of her shirt, desperate to get those buttons undone so that I can caress her, but the shop keeper instantly catches my hand, lacing her fingers through mine and moving my hand to hold her waist instead. I’ll leave her to decide when to take her shirt off then, since she seems to be more focused on other things right now. Things such as ridding me of my clothing, as well as her trousers. 

I was right earlier - she does have strong thighs. Her legs have a few small scars, the same kind that I have from running through a forest, that kind of thing. 

“Will you let me do as I please?” She whispers against my lips, my breathing heavy from the deep kiss she just blessed me with. Nodding, I shiver as her fingertips ghost across my bare back, the air a little too cold to be entirely naked outside of the sheets.

“I’ll warm you up soon, beautiful,” the shop keeper kisses me again, her touch leaving a blazing trail of heat everywhere that she touches me. She is gentle and agonisingly slow as she caresses me, and even as she has me gasping for more, all she does is smile and continue licking and kissing everywhere she reaches. When she makes her way further down, she links her fingers through mine as I use my free hand to stifle a moan, my body tingling gloriously. 

Somehow, I feel like I’m being rewarded for commissioning that lethal poison.

I gasp into her mouth as the shop keeper caresses me with heightened urgency, her lips stealing my sounds, her black shirt feeling coarse against my bare skin. But still, she doesn’t remove it, not for the entire night. We explore every part of one another’s bodies, but as much as we touch each other, my hand is never allowed to slip up her shirt. She has no problem with me touching her over the fabric, so my thought that maybe she simply doesn’t want to be caressed there doesn’t make sense. 

Which probably means that she doesn’t want me to see something. And that’s alright - as much as I want to touch every part of her, just as she touches all of me, if she is more comfortable with her shirt on then her shirt can stay that way. After all, I’m here to pleasure her. Even if currently it feels more like she’s been the one paying me for something. 

When my energy starts to flag even more, the shop keeper gently pulls the covers around me and cuddles up to my back, wrapping her arm around my waist, still gently caressing me but in a way that is calming rather than stimulating now. 

“Sleep, Artemisia. You may stay here as long as you want,” she whispers, placing a kiss to my temple as I lace my fingers through hers once again. 

This might be quite the enjoyable contract after all.