Title: Love Amongst the Roses

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Lark is only trying to protect Rosethorn from dehydration, but perhaps charity isn't all she has in mind.

Author's Note: I hope this doesn't seem OOC, considering how platonic they were in the series. I actually didn't get that they were a couple until it was referenced in Will of the Empress. Gaydar: *fails*

[*]

Lark brought a mug of tea with herbs for strength and endurance into the garden. The sun was hot, even in the late afternoon, and Rosethorn always forgot to drink water when she was tied up with her plants.

Of course, Lark reasoned and she examined the other woman's sun-kissed skin, she wasn't only being charitable.

She brushed lightly against a few plants as she approached, and Rosethorn looked up from a small cabbage plant as Lark sat down at the edge of the patch. "I brought you tea." She smiled, holding out the mug in both hands.

Rosethorn took it with a nod of thanks and drank, her dark throat moving rhythmically. Lark waited patiently, knowing it always took a few moments for Rosethorn's speech to return. In the meantime, she examined the roses planted around the patch to protect from insects. They were blooming fully, the fragrance thick and sweet in the heat.

Rosethorn gulped down the last of the tea and a spoonful splashed onto her green chemise. She gave Lark an apologetic look. "Sorry," she murmured.
"It's no problem," Lark told her. She slowly brushed her hand over the fabric of the shirt, encouraging the fibers to give up the liquid they'd soaked up. In moments, she had a small puddle of tea in her hand.

Rosethorn shivered.

Lark licked the small amount of tea from her hand, watching as Rosethorn's eyes darkened. "On the other hand," she said softly, "we should make sure it doesn't stain." She reached out and began to tug the chemise over Rosethorn's head.

"Sandry's in the house," Rosethorn hissed.

"She's napping. And you can hide us, can't you?" Lark smiled gently to show that she was not expecting anything, but she knew her wish would be granted.

Rosethorn rolled her eyes, then closed them. With a few fingers dug into the dirt, she fed magic into the rose bushes until the view of the house was obscured. The rose blooms blushed even redder and the smell became heady.

Lark stroked her lover's tanned skin. "What a romantic scene," she remarked. "Let's not let it go to waste."