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Characters: Polly, Maladict Disclaimer: The author makes no claim to owning the rights of anything
to do with Terry Pratchett or Discworld.
Bird Watching
Maladict was sitting on a stub in the evening’s gloom. He was unmoving, calm and yet watchful; Polly’s eyes were drawn to the delicateness of his nostril and the strength of his jaw. It seemed that the surroundings couldn’t affect him: the woods didn’t seem to dirty his clothes or make them even look worn, but he stayed untouched by all that, and his white uniform looked like it would be more at home in a ball room than here. Still, Maladict was part of the wild, in a way. He didn’t flinch when Polly came closer or otherwise acknowledge her presence: she wondered briefly if he’d smelled her coming. “Sarge told me to come bring you some coffee,” she said. Maladict took the mug and inclined his head towards a rock next to him. “Sit with me.” Polly sat down. Neither of them said anything: the only thing to be heard was a faint rustle from the woods. It was rapidly becoming dark, and sitting here alone with a vampire, whose being was like a void sucking in every sound near him, was slightly unnerving. Polly opened her mouth: “It’s a beautiful night, so cool.” Maladict made a noncommittal sound. Polly watched as the conversation shrivelled and died. She took a side glance of him and he wasn’t even looking at her. He was drinking his coffee deep in thought, looking indifferent, looking distant – looking so damn good. Polly did, distinctly, not entertain thoughts of black velvet, a dark castle surrounded by barren mountains, a stormy night and even stormier passion. Being around Maladict invoked that kind of images, but she pushed them away as soon as she caught them. She didn’t entertain any ideas of herself in context of those things. They were more than a little ridiculous. She refused to be carried away by them. “You know something about birds, don’t you?” Polly turned to look at Maladict and found him looking straight at her, reflective and oddly piercing. Polly felt her heart leap. She wouldn’t have anything to do with the gloomy, unrealistic thoughts that came out of nowhere and tried to convince her that they were exhilarating. But still. “I know pretty much,” she said, and the faintness of her voice almost made her blush. How dare it go like that? Maladict didn’t seem to notice, though. “That one over there,” he said quietly, “what is it?” Polly turned to look, but it was already so dark she couldn’t make out anything in that direction. Just when she was about to ask, Maladict said: “It’s almost on top of the tree – right there, on the tallest pine. Can you see it?” Polly squinted her eyes, but the branches were in constant movement, and everything was black. She realized Maladict probably had far better night vision than she did, and gave up. “It’s too dark,” she said and turned back. “I can’t see it.” Only she breathed the last words so that she didn’t even know if they were audible: Maladict was still looking at the bird and he had leant forward, sharp, and when she turned to him they were closer than she would have expected. Oh. Then Maladict turned his head – only a little, because there wasn’t much room anymore – and looked at her. He wasn’t surprised: he seemed to be aware of what was happening at all times. He had a slightly mocking look in his eyes, but he always did, and Polly knew he was interested in her, she knew. Now it’s going to happen, she thought. He’s going to kiss me. She was so nervous there were strange knots in her chest and her throat clamped, but there was also exhilaration about the thought. Maladict looked at her for a moment, and then he put his hand on her arm. “Listen, Polly…” Disappointment washed over her. He wasn’t interested after all. Maladict didn’t even look at her anymore and he was searching for words – Maladict was searching for words. Polly wondered, with some bitterness, whether he hadn’t got used to turning down silly admirers. Then he suddenly looked her in the eyes and said: “I’m a woman, as you may have guessed.” Polly felt her eyes widening to ridiculous plate-like measures. She should have seen this coming, but she’d thought, surely not Maladict… “I, I… I thought maybe you still weren’t,” she stammered. “Well, I am,” Maladict said. He was still very calm, although he was a she. Polly looked at Maladict’s face trying to reorganize the features to match “female” in her mind; then she thought of something and her gaze dropped to Maladict’s clothes. They didn’t hide a wiry man’s body, as she’d vaguely thought, but a… woman’s. Surprisingly, the thought made her stomach do a flip-flop. “You are a woman?” she said weakly. “As difficult as it may be to believe it, yes.” Polly didn’t really hear anything else than Maladict’s dry tone; her mind was racing, and at the same time it was perfectly still, letting her body do the thinking. It was a strange experience and one Polly didn’t recall having had before. A warm wave was filling her from the thighs up, and she couldn’t stop trying to picture how Maladict would look underneath her clothes – there were breasts under that shirt and hips under the trousers: images that ran through Polly’s mind were strong and pervasive. “Polly?” Polly recoiled: Maladict’s expression was inquiring and amused, one eyebrow arched. “You distracted, I mean you fooled me.” Polly’s lips felt hot and full and her tongue was clumsy. She looked at Maladict feeling confused and helpless, and then she realized she wanted to kiss her. The technical details of kissing a vampire briefly entered and left her mind, and all that was left was the yearning to do it, to press her lips against Maladict’s mouth. A small part of Polly stayed untouched by all this, and it was quite upset, but the main part of her couldn’t bring herself to care. “Do you believe me?” Maladict asked, as if she needed to make sure Polly did. “Yes, I do.” Polly looked down, and she noticed she was still sitting with her legs wide open, to maintain her soldier lad status. The posture along with Maladict right in front of her filled her with an urge to get closer; the thought of touching Maladict made something throb between her legs, and she blushed. “Did you guess me?” she said just to say something. Maladict’s expression gave nothing away, and Polly wondered how she looked like to her – but had she bent closer to Polly? “I looked at you,” Maladict said. Her voice made something hum deep inside Polly. Before she knew it, Polly was thinking about kissing her neck, touching her collar bone and waist and stroking and kissing her breasts; it was possible that her eyes showed all this, because Maladict was looking sort of smug and satisfied in a vaguely annoying way. “You did?” Polly said, attempting for indifference, while a question burned in her mind: she wanted to have Maladict under her, without her clothes, all skin and limbs wriggling and arching, and she wanted to know if Maladict would comply with it. “Very much,” Maladict said her voice suddenly lower, and Polly’s hand settled on it’s own accord on Maladict’s thigh. Polly was feeling quite hot, and she really wanted to have full-length contact, with the damn clothes or not. “Perks!” Polly froze. Maladict opened her mouth slowly and sucked on her lower lip, and Polly had to fight for control to take her eyes off of it and turn around to face Jackrum, who was fortunately standing further, instead of having crept right behind them as he was wont to. “You’s having a nice long chat and I hate to interrupt but upon my oath, the guard needs to pay attention! Now!” “Go along now, soldier,” Maladict whispered; Polly heard the grin in her voice but she wouldn’t dare to turn around and look. Her hand was being handed back to her, and she got on her feet. “Am I making myself clear?” Jackrum said, and his tone was getting nasty. “Yes, sarge!” Polly was scurrying back to the camp right behind Jackrum when she had the courage to look back; not looking wasn’t an option. Maladict was standing straight like a young tree, still and vigilant. Her white trousers lined against her thighs in a way that did funny things to Polly’s insides. At least she hadn’t said she wasn’t interested. |