#talia x amayia

[herald-divine-hell]

To Amayia from Talia: You have feelings and a heart just like I do and that heart deserves to be loved and cared for; like the rest of you.

To Alex from Eryn: It’s ok to need to stop working to take care of yourself and the world won’t end if you’re a little unproductive in order to rest… especially if its with me.

Amayia would get a touch red and shyly reach for her hand and say something of the sorts of, "My heart is only shown what kindness is from you, and how to care for the ones I love through you. And I think...I think I like that a lot, being cared by you."

Alexandra would just chuckle softly before sliding into her lap, wrapping her arms around her neck, and laying a kiss to Eryn's jaw. "The world can never rest, but that's why you have to cheat it from out of them. Now, show me how to be unproductive, ma cheri."

[noeldressari]

Talia reacting to Amayia in her sweatshirt

Talia would be giving her the warmest smile, comforted by the thought of her keeping warm even indirectly, and even more comforted knowing that if she gets her sweatshirt back later it will smell like her. She'd gladly go about the day without her sweatshirt to keep her warm. Amayia just looks so cute in it and Talia just loves the idea of being able to protect her from the cold.

[herald-divine-hell]

A Meeting of Kindness

A/N: So, this fanfic is with @noeldressari‘s Talia Cousland and Amayia as padawans in a Star Wars AU. I’m sorry if Talia isn’t all that accurate to her actual character. I’m really bad at doing that with other people’s ocs asldkada. But I hope you all enjoy!

-

As night gathered in the skies of Coruscant, light flickered awake in a sea of silver and amber, the underglow of rolling clouds burnt with silvery-gold. Streaking smoky-silver and scarlet lines blurred as taxi-pods and shuttles zipped across the air, a constant buzzing hum as clusters of stars peaked and winked in the dark mantle. 

A wind picked up from the north, bringing the scent of a metallic-soaked chilled air to Amayia’s senses, shuffling her thick robes, lightsaber hilt rattling against her thigh. Fingers sprayed across a wide stone surface, one of the few remaining in the metropolis-planet. A white marble that glowed with the orange-gold fires of the sun during the day and the icy silver waters of moonlight by night. 

Coruscant still dazzled her, even though it would have been nearly two decades since she had joined the Jedi Order as a padawan. At night, a new world blossomed from the brilliant glow of the day. Though fires sparkled through countless windows and ledges, as transmission towers flared and in and outgoing ships whined through the atmosphere with the glow of shooting stars, a peace settled onto Amayia’s shoulders; a peace she had not known since she was a child waiting at her mother’s knee to hear some fable story. Only at night did the concerns of the war bleed away from her mind, only at night could she hear the Force settle from its conflict. Light and dark dwindled to a single strung hum, then another, until a melody whispered in her mind, flooded her soul. Thundering battle fled away, the screams of dying men, women, and children fading away until there was only her and the Force, an old ally, and an older friend. 

“You should be getting some rest.”

Amayia’s eyes turned away from the thicket of towering skyscrapers, gleaming silver-white by strands of starlight, the horizon threaded with their soft flicker. Yellow-white light pooled from beyond in the curved archway, lines of columns marching deeper into the Temple like rows of soldiers. A few golden and bronze statues of ancient Jedi flanked the sides of the entrance of the pathway, staring out into the dark city with serene expressions, some with firm, dignified features, others with kindly smiles and eyes. 

Light bathed about Talia’s form as if the Force pulsed off her in waves, lighting a sheen over her long brown hair, shadows scurrying about her features, heightening her sharp cheekbones, softening her shyly smiling lips. Vivid blue eyes glimmered with silver and scarlet and azure, reflections of the city beyond, twirling about like swirling jewels in a sea. In her hands were two porcelain cups with thin plums of white-gray smoke streaming until it faded away into the darkness. 

“I like to take walks before every mission,” replied Amayia, turning a little to face the Padawan that was assigned to her. Tomorrow they would be leaving to take up commands as leaders of two squadrons of clone troopers, in hopes of infiltrating a Separatist base and gathering intel before a full on ground assault and occupation could occur. The first time Amayia was allowed a command of her own without her master’s presence. Any trickle of fear never roused in her heart. She would do what she must. Amayia had learned that a long time ago. 

And yet...she never was partnered with another Padawan, and never alone. Master Or-Lan had always been careful in choosing where Amayia was sent, and who she went with, if he could not attend. A few with Jedi Knights, often in escort missions for departing senators in dangerous sectors. More often with just her master himself and his legion, the 406th. Amayia knew she was not the greatest communicator, never truly able to grasp the understanding of emotions, especially when it was inflicted hard by others. Master Or-Lan did, though, and tried for years to get her to connect, through the Force or not. But she never can. Whenever she did try to touch another’s emotions, the Force skirted away, like water sloshing up against the side of a dam, never able to pass through. She could still sense it, however; the rage and sadness of a mother or father who lost their child from a bombing run. Yet when she tried to ease them, to bring peace to their trembling, rage-scorched hearts, the barrier sprawled like spun webs, thickening into a wall stronger than steel, with no gaps to break through. Worried did not fill her, the Force a soothing, constant current through her veins, but she knew that any comfort to the locals on the planet they would be heading toward will be lost on her. 

Perhaps that is why Master Or-Lan and Master Findrall choose her to be paired with Talia Cousland. She had only heard her in passing from muttering Jedi in classes, frustration mixed with high praise. She was highly skilled in battle, though aggressive, with her sharp and savage cuts, barreling charges, and overwhelming advance. A few whispers from other Padawans muttered how she could hold a whole battalion of battle droids on her own, and from her appearance, Amayia was sure she could. Long, thick, and straight brown hair fell down to the small of her back, a few strands framing her strong jaw, with its chiseled and sharp jawline. High cheekbones reared proudly on a noble face, but there still was a softness to her, at her lips and in her eyes. A faint blush nestled her pale cheeks, puffs of cool air misted past her lips. Northern wind stirred her long locks until it shivered like a banner of brown toward the west, drips of gold glimmering across like waves. Broad shoulders were covered in a thick brown outer cloak, with the loose fitted sandy-brown robes shrouding the sturdy body beneath. High brown boots crawled up to her knees, and a flash of silver glimmered when Talia shifted a little, making her way toward Amayia. 

“That’s fair,” replied Talia, as she strode to her side, her gaze flickering toward the city. “We’re leaving tomorrow, though. Will you be walking again?” 

Amayia nodded and turned back toward the city, returning both hands onto the wide cool surface. “I’ll be meditating in the gardens before we depart after my walk, if you wish to join me, Padawan Talia.” The words felt clumsy to her, even as her voice carried it still in an even tone. Small talk was never her element. 

The blush seemed to grow on her cheeks, the silver and gold wash of star and city bringing it out so brightly it appeared to overwhelm Talia. Her smile grew a bit, one she flashed at Amayia as she rested the two cups on the balcony still, elbows resting as she leaned forward. “I just might. And, please, call me Talia. No need for formalities when we’ll be guarding one another’s backs.”

A touch of warmth tickled Amayia’s cheeks as she dwindled her thumbs together. Despite her clumsy nature with her emotions, a bubble of fire flickered in her heart at the gentle glow in Talia’s eyes, a determined, sweet, and kind sunflare that spun a thousand diamonds with speared light. Her master often joked that Amayia could never smile, but after a sudden realization, she felt her lips curling into one. “Yes,” admitted Amayia, nodding a bit as gaze returned to the light-blurred skies and sparsely clouded skies. “That will be a good endeavor.” 

At the corner of her eye, she saw Talia testing the name in silence, her smile never leaving her even then. Though, her shoulders did seem to lessen its tension with Amayia’s agreement. Was she afraid that she would have said no? The possibility was strong. She never was particularly close with any of her fellow Padawans, even less than any of the Masters, except for her own. But Amayia still saw the practicality of using only their names to communicate. It was less of a mouthful to say, such allowing greater ability for success-

No, she thought, a shiver of anger rustling across the river of the Force which rolled through her. She was only asking for you to treat her as an equal, a partner. It had nothing to do with the outcome of success for the mission, she had to tell herself, her Master’s voice whistling through her mind, tilted with disappointment. 

“Hot chocolate?” asked Talia suddenly, nudging the cup toward her. 

Amayia blinked, torn away from her thoughts, a ripple of discontent skidding across the calming Force. “Hot chocolate?” Her eyes flickered to the silver-glinting cup, the steam still swirling in waning pillars. Grasping the cup in her hands, gloved fingers brushing over Talia’s, she whispered her thanks as she pulled it close to her chest. Raising and tipping the drink, warmth flooded her body, thawing the night’s chill grasp from her bones. Sweetness overwhelmed her, in a way that she had not felt in many years, and she drank it heavily.

“Like it?” Talia sipped hers, a bit more slower than Amayia’s but a touch heavier. Sighing as she pulled the cup from her lips, her smile seemed more calming than shy. “Hot chocolate is one of my favorite drinks.”

“It is mine as well,” admitted Amayia, the smile from before caressing her face, as the embarrassment burned away by the sweetness of the hot chocolate and the soothing sight of Talia’s smile. It was a pretty smile, matching well with her good-humored eyes. Talia would be good to have when it would come to comforting masses, to ensure cooperation instead of resistance against Republic occupation. Even if her emotions swayed her, perhaps that was why their masters pushed them together on this mission. Amayia knew she was cold, knew she was calculating. She was told over and over again she was what a Jedi ought to be. Emotions did not cloud her judgement, and that was the Jedi way. 

But the Jedi way was also to bring peace, and Talia’s smile brought a waterfall of calm washing over Amayia. Was that not also what the Jedi stood for? Bringing comfort and peace to otherwise death-torn, darkened worlds that were tainted by the Dark Side, tainted by slaughter and destruction? Questions swirled in her mind, but what stood as bright as the stars from the gloomy sea, was Talia’s eyes. So bright and vivid, bursting with life, with kindness. The warmth of before came rushing stronger to her cheeks. 

Talia bowed her head. “I should let you get back to your walk.” She drank her coffee, the pink on her cheeks a bright scarlet now, rushing over her features like a fire-burning cloud. “See you tomorrow, for our walk that is.” 

Smiling back at her, Amayia also bowed. “Thank you for the drink, Talia. I will see you tomorrow, for the walk and the mission. It is an honor to be paired with you.”

A little chuckle came from the other Padawan as she scrubbed the back of her neck. “The honor is all mine, Amayia. And the hot chocolate was nothing. Everyone loves hot chocolate, right?” Her laughter grew a bit more, the fire on her face deepening. “But, yeah...It was good to finally meet you!” She stared for a moment, mouth open as if she wanted to say more. “Right, bed. Walking. Um. Well, goodnight!”

The flapping of her cloak filled the air as Talia rushed back toward the entrance way. Amayia’s stare followed the woman’s departing form, the cloak shivering over her broad back, as if straining as the woman walked back a bit hunched over. 

It was only until she departed to her quarters did Amayia realize that her smile never did leave her face. 

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia/Amayia

Thank you for the ask.

-

Talia is probably the only one who could ever consistently get Amayia to smile.

Some do get a faint shadow of one, but Talia's mere presence lifts Amayia out of her shyness.

Amayia constantly is seen holding her hands or stroking Talia's back, staring fondly as Talia goes on about something.

Even if its a mundane thing, Amayia adores listening to Talia.

Talia's shirts do go missing a lot of the while, and she has the biggest smile on a person's face when she sees Amayia in hers. And the heaviest blush.

Amayia finds she especially enjoys Talia's blush.

Talia gets back for breaking her brain by lifting Amayia up and carrying her to bed.

Amayia just gets very red and hides her face into Talia's neck, enjoying Talia's show of strength and how warm she is.

They both have matching braids that they do every morning after their bathing.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia, looking down at her boots and shuffling awkwardly: "H-hello Amayia... I uhh... I saw these flowers and they uhhh.... they made me think of you because... because you know you... youre pretty too... like the flowers, you know, theyre... theyre pretty. I mean youre pretty and I- the flowers, theyre pretty, youre pretty... just... here..." *she looks down and just raises out her hand with the flowers*

Talia's endearing awkwardness would be one of the few times someone would ever catch a giggle from Amayia Esmaria Trevelyan, and a heavy blush. With fingers stroking Talia's hair, she'll lay a kiss, soft and delicate, almost a brush, on her lips and murmur a soft, "Thank you, my Knight." Afterward, she'll stroke the petals softly in her bedchambers, a faint smile on her lips and fondness in her eyes. She'll keep the flowers embroiled in her hair for days after, as well, and would often drag Talia away to give her kisses as her many thanks.

[herald-divine-hell]

ultra sinfulness incoming: Talia lying in bed with Amayia, absentmindedly playing with her hands and occasionally bringing them to her lips to kiss her palms and each fingertip.

Such sin. Getting Andraste on the phone right now. It's OVER, Noel. OVER. Tsk, tsk.

Seriously, though. Amayia's cheeks are very red from Talia's actions, and she'll draw Talia's own hands up to her lips to leave kisses as well. Though, she might ask softly for one of her hands, so she can stroke her hair and gently sing to her.

[noeldressari]

Enchantment of the Sword

Wrote a poem for Talia and @herald-divine-hell’s goddess!Amayia. Enjoy!

~

On a quiet evening,

Before the stars had graced the skies,

A weary warrior came down by the lake.

The war etching crimson lines in her skin,

And streaks of sweat across her brow.

~

Still was she when she first heard it,

The first notes sung by a goddess

Who sat at water’s edge, beneath the green,

Singing so sweet a sound

As to lull the sun to darkness.

 ~

Softly, the warrior drew nearer,

Entranced by the goddess’s song.

She watched the goddess twine the stars

In patterns around her fingers,

Forming new constellations

With as much ease and grace

As a simple parlor trick.

 ~

The goddesses voice grew softer,

Her song soothing the warriors longing soul.

Oh, how sweet the song was,

Reminding her of bright days before

Her imprisonment to the sword.

 ~

Ever weary the warrior became,

Her body faltering as her mind stilled.

Resting against bark covered in softest moss,

She allowed her eyes to close

And brow to bend.

 ~

When the warrior woke,

Her head rested not on wood nor grass,

But on the goddess’s lap,

Looking up into eyes of grace.

 ~

The goddess touched her with such tenderness,

Not the kiss of morning dew could compare.

Her fingers weaved new constellations

Into the warrior’s locks as a crown of stars.

Her lips turned up at her warrior’s blush.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia holds Amayia close, running her fingers through her hair and her other hand slowly running up and down her back, murmuring soft reassurances between kisses across her face, say that she does enough to give back everyday just being her and loving her the way she does.

Amayia might jump in her arms at that point, drawing Talia's lips to hers, murmuring how she is the stars in her night, while stroking her fingers through her long hair. Afterward, Amayia makes them both matching necklaces, with a gem winking with the beat of their hearts.

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia cupping Amayia's face in her hands and murmuring that she can hold the whole world in her hands.

Amayia's cheeks would flush red, and her hands will grasp fistfuls of her shirt and shyly pressed her face into her neck or chest, mumbling how good she is to her, and how she wants to give back.

[herald-divine-hell]

🍁 Talia x Amayia?

Thank you for the ask!

🍁 - How was their first kiss?

Talia knew that Amayia never kissed anyone before, so when she lifts her head up and lays one upon her lips beneath the moons and stars after a little relaxing moment, she kisses her gently. Almost so faint a brush that Amayia did not know what happened, until Talia pulled away, cheeks flared as red as a dawning sun. Amayia can feel a heat on her own cheeks, as well. Before Talia has the chance to apologize, Amayia asks gently to be kissed again. Only, of course, if Talia wanted to.

This time, the kiss is more firm, more searching, passing through the tangled branches within the forest of uncertainty, into a new blossoming meadow filled with purple and red and gold and white flowers, strands of grass glinting with molten bronze. It is calm, and safe, and security, all in one for them both. One kiss becomes two, then three, and then four, until they both lost count and Amayia was atop of her. Even then, she did not stop kissing, searching through the pages of Talia's heart, seeking to lay her own place within her story.

[herald-divine-hell]

2 for Talia/Amayia?

Thank you for the ask! Sorry if this is much shorter than Eryn's. I have to be up to go on a plane early in the morning.

2. hand kisses

Talia tried to fight off the blush growing on her cheeks as the Princess descended down the marble steps.

Garbed in a dress of scarlet, the front knitted with a sheet of mirrors that caught the light like gems, and threading of gold in the shape of flames at the helms of the wide skirts, the Princess seemed a goddess of fire come to life. A long sheer cloth of pale red streamed down in a veil, embroiled with golden flames upon the edges. A silver chain dangled over her forehead, bearing an emblazoned sun set with a ruby gem at its center, brimming with orange and gold in shivering flames.

Ever watchful those silver eyes were as they swept across the wide ballroom, and they lingered for a moment - or Talia did thought so, perhaps even hoping - on her. The fire on her cheeks seemingly only thickened at those stare, weighing but glimmering with a sweeter and warmer light than others who met her steely gaze. Talia felt more gaudy in her suit than she already did. The black velvet jacket was rich with thick vines of gold and silver swathing over, and its high collar seemed to choke Talia. She had to fight with all her effort not to tug at it with her fingers; at least not when Princess Amayia was staring.

With a jolt, she realized she was drawing nearer. A woman barely past her shoulder, Princess Amayia was lush in her curves, with her deep copper skin glimmering a ruddy glow from the torches upon poles of gleaming silver candle-holders. She tried not think of how soft her skin was, when Talia's fingers glossed gently over those wide hips and wide hands cupped those heavy breasts...Maker, she was going to die in this thing. It was too hot and too tight. Dont' stare, you fool!

"My gallant Ser Talia," said the Princess Amayia as she drew near, a murmur of a smile growing at her lips. And Talia took pride that she was one of the few, if not the only one, who could do such a thing. Her heart hammered in her chest so hard she swore she could hear, over the prattle of the nobility. "You look dashing."

Stuttering, Talia said, "Thank you, my princess. You are too kind." Her words tumbled together that she could had sworn she had just spoken nonsense. Shaking her head a little, but not too much to draw attention to the act, she tried her best to smile. "But all the light and gems of the world dim in the light of you." Her cheeks flared so hot that she could had sworn she had been dumped into a pool of fire. Extending her hand, suddenly remembering somewhat of protocol, she bowed, hoping at least to hide her cheeks, or grasp the remains of what lingering dignity she held.

Her blood pulsed and boiled when she felt Amayia's smaller hand rest upon her palm, and she tried to contain her smile and the pleasure fluttering through her heart, bursting with a mangling of embarrassment and adoration that only Amayia could draw out.

Laying a kiss to the back of her hand, Talia found the courage to glance up at the breathtaking woman, the pleasure of before growing at the sight of the faint blush upon her high-cheekbones and please smile that came out in a small quiver at her lips. "I am at your service, Your Highness."

And the growing red of the Princess' face and her smile and the brightness of her eyes made all the heat broiling her alive in the suit all the more worth it.

-

Ask more Kisses Prompts here

[herald-divine-hell]

10 for Talia/Amayia?

10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.��

-

The wind swept soft and high above the treeline, rustling golden and scarlet leaves off their thin brown limbs into a spiral flutter of flame, down to the clearing blow. Yellowing green grass were thickly knitted with those flaming leaves, leaving the flooring about them a sea of sunlight and fire.

“Stop moving, Talia,” muttered Amayia, taming the drift of her dark locks from riding westward by the spring wind, “and let me braid your hair.”

Her Warden was nestled between her thighs, back towards her, head pressed against the cloth of her tunic. “Your warm, though,” replied Talia, amusement tilting the soft tones of her voice.

“My thighs are no doubt one of your favorite resting places.” She shifted a little up the tree stump she rested on, drawing back the thick straight brown hair of Talia with her. Her fingers combed through, relishing its softness. Amayia was always amazed at its thickness, its straightness, how it flows like a river of chocolate, sometimes melting with gold by strays of sunlight. Compared to the hardness of the woman’s body, all the corded muscles and sprawling scars that came from years of hard labor defending the realms of the living from the Blight, Talia’s hair was always especially soft, with no knots to stop her in her stroke. But that was not the only thing that was soft of her love.

When Talia tilted her head upward, pink filled her pale cheeks, a shy smile upon her lips. It took every effort in her body to keep herself from kissing her. “They are.” Her voice was shyer this time, as if afraid to admit such a scandalous thing. She shifted one more time, the loose tunic she wore, tied at the waist by a simple leather belt, rustled faintly in a shiver of movement. Beneath it, Amayia could see muscles shifting with her shuffle as well, and her tongue peaked out to wet her lips without her realizing. Warmth rolled to her cheeks at the sight. Faintly, she heard Talia say, “I’m sorry.”

Clearing her throat, she smiled down at her love and laid a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t be,” she muttered against her warming skin. Just tilt your head back down, mon chevalier. Please.”

Blue eyes stared at her a little long, a soft flame flickering with all the warmth of love that Amayia thought she truly did not deserve. Sunlight played about her eyes, like light flitting across the gentle waves of a sea, glistening with speckles of gold and white. Amayia felt as if she could drown in them, or float for eternity, basking in that sweet summer light, cradled by cool arms of foam and water.

Finally, Talia gave a little nod of her head and faced back toward where a rounded lake rested, still and quiet, with a few lily pads drifting over its surface, like stars in a clear sky. A wall of gray stone rose at the end, with steps shrouded with mossy green running with clear small rivers of water from above, down into the lake. A soft patter fill the air, with the laughter of the wind.

Amayia’s fingers combed and split her Warden’s hair in three thick strands. Without thinking, from years of practice, she wrapped and knotted and wrapped again the Warden’s hair until it was all drawn up in a thick braid, falling a little past her shoulders. But...it looked as if it was missing something. Her brows furrowed together as she began to chew at her lip.

Talia spoke. “Are you done?” Her fingers reached out to grasp it, but Amayia stopped her with a gentle hold.

She glanced about and spotted a few flowers, others blue, a couple violet, and a few white peaking from the carpet of sun-fire leaves. A smile touched her lips as a faint hum of warmth tingled at her fingers, the tips glowing white. Color spun about her, flowers slipping into the braid, leaves knitting into a crown to rest at her temple, until the brown glistened with colors, like gems in a river. Green vines and stems peaked out, following the length of knots, twining together in a tapestry of greens and blues and golds and scarlet and violets.

“There we go,” whispered Amayia, resting her hands on her stomach, one on the other. “Go see how you look.”

Talia’s fingers probed at the leaf-crown at her head, but her smile seemed to only have grown, and she extended out her hand to Amayia. “I want you to show me.”

Heat tingled her cheeks as she clasped her hand in Talia, but she could not wave off her smile, even if she wished it so. Gently she pulled Talia nearer to the lake, her dress swishing over the leaks, dainty feet making only the faintest of crushes, though Talia’s heavy steps echoed like thunder. Her gentle giant, Amayia thought.

When Talia peered at her reflection, a gasp came from her, and her smile grew - somehow - more larger, the fire in her eyes more vibrant yet still so soft. “Amayia, it’s wonderful.” She shrugged the braid over a shoulder, her fingers tracing petals with a fond smile. When she glanced up at her, Talia whisper, still in that shy, kind voice, “You’re wonderful.”

“I...I just braided it and knitted the flowers.” She glanced down and smoothed her skirts. “It’s nothing.” 

Suddenly, Amayia felt strong arms wrapping around her waist; suddenly, she was pressed against Talia, who rested her forehead against Amayia’s. Blushing more fervently, Amayia laughed a little at her Warden’s softness. Maker, how could she be so kind, to her of all people?

“You do more than you know by just breathing,” said Talia in that tone. Her blue eyes glimmered, and Amayia saw herself reflected in them, as if she too had stared into two clear pools of love. Arms tightened at her waist. “By being with me. I am always thankful for that.”

Her hand rose, caressing her finger tips over her cheek, cupping it softly. Her heart danced and flipped and bounced about with those words, from those eyes. So many saw her as the Hero, but never as the soft woman beneath it all, never seeing Talia. Her Talia.

“And I am thankful,” whispered Amayia as she drew herself onto the tip of her toes, lips brushing over Talia’s. The Warden’s breath came in a sharp inhale. “I am thankful for mon Chevalier de Printemps - for my Spring Knight.”

[herald-divine-hell]

Talia seeing Amayia in lingerie and being a blushing stuttering mess, rubbing the back of her neck and stumbling over her words trying to say "y-y-you look... you kinda... you know uhhh... you're aahh... *small laugh and deep breath* you look... nice..." and she just stares at Amayia, knowing her words werent enough but not trusting herself to say anything more, afraid she'll make things worse.

Talia would not be the only one red in the room; Amayia’s cheeks are touched with scarlet, her shoulders gently reddening into an amber, revealing more of the soft freckles dotting her shoulders. But, she gets the apathetic features dwindle away into a soft smile. Laughing, Amayia says that she had to get Leliana and Josephine’s help on picking it. “It’s not too Orlesian, is it?” But she’ll draw in the tall warrior, and press a soft kiss to her chin, before pushing her on the bed, straddling her waist, and saying softly as she bent over to ghost her lips across her jaw. “Let me worship you, my Hero.”

[herald-divine-hell]

11 for Talia and Amayia?

Talia could not help it. When she saw Amayia smile, something within her sparked, a yearning, a bubbling flame which whispered to kiss those soft, smiling, scarred lips until she drew the smaller woman into breathless gasp.

Her hands tentatively rested on her wide hips, slipping up to rest in the nestle of her side, drawing her close. She captured Amayia’s grasp, and their kisses was slow, gentle, a molding of spirits that came with a the weariness of trepidation.

Talia could feel Amayia’s hands going from her arms, running along the length of Talia’s shirtsleeves, as if unaware where to lay her hands. Something of worried tugged at the back of her mind, and after a minute or two, perhaps even longer, she drew away.

Warmth swarmed her face, burning it with heat. “Sorry....I did not mean to. I just-“ Maker, what could she say? That she could not help want to hear those lovely murmurs and sighs from Amayia? That she adores her smiles so much that the wanting to kiss her overwhelms her? It was foolish, and she should just apologize and flew back into her room.

“Please...do it again,” muttered Amayia, those molten silver eyes darkening like a shrouding mist at night.

The heat thickened, and she spoke her words were a jumbling tangle. “A...are you sure? I mean, I’ll gladly kiss you, of course. It’s just...” Clearing her throat and calling herself a wool-headed fool, she gave Amayia a smile. “May I kiss you, my Lady Inquisitor.”

The giggle Amayia released was the chiming of bells in the spring air. One hand rose to tangle softly into Talia’s thick straight hair, the other cupping her cheek, drawing a soft thumb over the line of her cheekbone. “Yes, my Hero. I would...I would like that a lot.” Talia saw as a dusting of pink kissed Amayia’s olive cheeks. “Please.” The last word came as a soft whisper, and she chewed her bottom lip as she glanced from Talia’s eyes to her lips.

The Inquisitor did not have to repeat herself, and Talia soon found herself pressing Amayia against a stone wall, small, strong, soft legs around her waist. Moans flitted out of Amayia’s lips, soft gasps and sighs as Talia kissed her soft one moment and harder than next. She did not know which one she preferred. It gave her so many of Amayia’s lovely sounds; so she followed the rhyme Amayia set out. Talia would follow this woman till her death, but for much preferred her alive than dying. She could not kiss her if she was dead.

And time slipped away, the world bleeding to a faded gray and black, fill the only colors were Amayia, the only feeling Amayia, and her whole world was just Amayia.

[herald-divine-hell]

odyssey au Talia/Amayia?

She was a woman from the eastern lands, with her tanned skin, almond-shaped large silver eyes, gleaming with slivers of gold from sprinkling sunlight, a gently curved nose. Wind shivered a thin sheet of pale silver and clear cloak, a white linen dress clinging to her figure…revealing curves that could not help by draw Talia’s gaze.

“You will take me there.” It was not an request. It was a command. A command come from a rolling, husky, and clear voice—not the chime of bells, but the rolling of storm clouds, powerful and commanding.

Talia blushed and nodded, her finger stroking the hilt of her blade hanging on her hip. At the corner of her eye, she could see Barnabas grinned, for the first time silent. “Yes, your highness.”

And for a moment, Talia could had sworn those full lips were pulled into a secretive smile. “Good,” she murmured, before marching with a soldiers’ step to her ship. Talia had to shake her head when she realized she was staring at those swaying hips, and murmured to Athena to guide her, and protected her.

[herald-divine-hell]

star wars au Talia/Amayia?

When they fought side-by-side, it was a dance; every movement, every pull and push by the Force, in synchronization.

Talia dipped down to her knees, slashing across a droid’s knees, a flash of white and a lingering orange-silver, before it clasped in a heat. Amayia stroke her lightsaber down, purple catching a scarlet dash that has been aiming at Talia’s head. They spun around, Talia’s blue lightsaber jamming into the silver rounded-chest of a super battle droid; Amayia’s cut off the head of a pleading battle droid, spinning in a whirl, the body running like a headless chicken before falling into a heap.

They danced and they cut and they killed, air whistling with gusts of Force and the sizzle of lightsabers dashing, snapping, and breaking. A deadly dance they both performed, one cold and precise, the other rushing and blaring hot.