An Understanding

“Look at me,” He says. Despite myself, I do.
We have always ended up like this, him pulsing inside me while I share his bed each month. For the hundredth time I wonder if he takes other women; a month is a long time, especially for one who does not share warmth, only services his desires in the hope that it will bring her one step closer to home. But lately, it is getting harder to pretend that I do not enjoy it, that some part of me has begun to look forward to this, his touch. In the dark it is easiest, when I can tilt my head back and wrap my legs around his waist as I please. Here, I shall not give him the satisfaction of my surrender.
“ I said look at me.” His words are muffled against my neck, whispered onto the skin.
“I did,” I reply.
He ignores me and moves his hips harder to some place where it’s all I can do from crying out before his body shudders, collapses onto mine. Slowly my mind clears and I try to wriggle out from under him. I want to go so I can no longer feel the urge to bring us closer and trace his body with my hands and mouth.
“No.” Two hands press down on my shoulders; turn me around so that I am curled beside him. I will never admit it, but I am glad he does this. Glad that he cares enough to make me stay, instead of rolling off, as would any man. At least one of us should.
Still, I am stubborn. I hold my tongue when he wraps his arms around my waist, strokes my hair. I don’t want to believe that he feels anything for me.
“The day’s nearly done.” I say. Golden light fills the window, casting shadows around us. A silence grows between us until the sun dwindles over the mountains and I start to leave. As I go, he shifts to the place I have left behind.

Home. My father is ill; the drink has taken its toll. Our land is aplenty, but gold is modest. The peasants are only starting to return from neighboring lands. Steward Croft, a gentle soul with cropped hair and the grace of a scholar, manages everything so I do not have to. Nothing could bring Ithilia back to what it once was, but his work and these changes will do. I remain grateful for everything he has done.

In the mornings, I awake and climb to the battlements where I sat years ago, looking out to the village and forest stretching for miles. It was my escape, away from a life of solitude and tending to a father who could no longer do so himself. These, I am between two men; one who is almost gone, and another who I am tied to as long as the other one lives. Once, I could have chosen without hesitation, now I am ambivalent about both.
I can only hope I decide soon.

These are my thoughts as one morning I am in control, riding him as I would a stallion. Only riding a horse brought me freedom, and moving myself here will get me nowhere.
"You're frowning again,"
"What do you care?" I reply, taking his hands off and moving harder.
He flips us over, weight off my stomach. "Want to leave, don't you?"
Yes, I want to say, and No.
"Just..." I move back and finish what I started.

It starts with an argument, him snatching a text I had been reading, accusing me of going to his study and sulking. It is not sulking, I replied, just a respite from the morning. Is that what you call it now?, He said, voice bitter and raising.
"We made a deal; your pleasure for my freedom."
"If I wanted pleasure, I could've found a whore for it!"
"Then find one then!" I said, getting up to make my leave.

His hand snaps around my wrist, the contact we make causing us to lose balance. He pins me there, on the floor, and fear rises in my throat that he will kill me here, and I will never return to my land or Croft again, left like a sack of meat for the taking---
In a moment his face bends into mine, pulling it into a kiss. For once, I press back, a hunger awakened in the pit of my stomach. He traces patterns across my neck and shoulders with his lips, moving away fabric for more. I reach down for him and he groans, moving my hand where he wants it, slipping fingers between my legs in the process.We fuck there on the floor, not bothering to silence ourselves.
"Gods," He says, even though if there were, they would not be here with us.
As I sleep, his body is tangled in mine.

"Come in."
I pulled the robe tighter across my waist, moving inch by inch. I was a virgin then, cold and scared. He sat on a chair, waiting until I had summoned enough courage to be at his side.
Slowly, a hand pressed gently on my back