Chapter Text
Ophilia had always believed Primrose to be the most beautiful person she had ever laid eyes on.
During their travels, she was consistently awed by the dancer's strength and grace. While she believed each of her companions to be amazing in their own right, Primrose always seemed to catch her eye more than the rest. Inside of her there seemed to burn a fire that was more intense than even Aelfric’s eternal flame. The cleric had been immediately drawn to her. But, due to the stress of her duties as Flamebearer, Ophilia could not see just how deeply her feelings for Primrose were becoming. That is, until recently.
Now that the dark god had been put to rest and their journey had officially come to an end, Ophilia had become acutely aware of her intense attraction. The way Primrose would tease her. The way their eyes would lock when she was performing a dance. The casual touches when they were seated around the fire. It was the way Primrose was with everyone, Ophilia knew. But it still gave her stomach butterflies and set her heart racing every time.
And so, here she sat. Gathered around a campfire with several of her companions as they watched Primrose dance. It was a familiar scene for them. Primrose was always eager to perform for an audience and very often during their travels such a performance was a welcome morale boost. Now, she was dancing in celebration for how far they had come. And Ophilia was watching intently, as she always did. It had been nearly two weeks since their final battle. Several of their companions had already parted ways.
H’aanit had split off as she could move quicker on her own and she was eager to inform her master of their victory. Olberic had said his temporary goodbyes when they made a brief stop in Cobbleston. He wished to stay behind to see to the friends he had made there so long ago. It was during this time Alfyn had split from the group as well, as they had received word of a nasty virus that had popped up in Grandport. The last one to part ways was Tressa. She wished to share all the tales of her travels and trades with her parents back in Rippletide. Each member that had left promised they would meet again. Despite this, Ophilia already missed them terribly.
“Ophilia? Hey, Ophilia!” She was suddenly snapped out of her reverie as she noticed Cyrus and Therion looking at her expectantly.
“I apologize, it seems I was lost in thought.” She gave them each an apologetic smile as Therion and Cyrus shared a glance. Therion looked back at her with a grin.
“Well, well, well. Are you so enthralled by Primrose’s movements that you’re blocking out the rest of the world now?” Therion let out a little chuckle as Ophilia felt her face begin to heat up. “Cyrus and I were just talking about that discussion we had a few weeks ago. You remember, the one in the Wellspring tavern? We were thinking now would be the perfect time to take Prim up on her offer.”
If her face was warm before, it was downright burning now. She had hoped that whole incident had been forgotten. Their last night in Wellspring had been Ophilia’s first experience with alcohol. And somehow, she had ended up in a drinking contest between herself and H’aanit. There were few things about that night she could remember but wrapping her arms around Primrose and begging her for dance lessons was burned into her mind.
“My friend, Therion here is correct. Now would be a wise time to ask Primrose for such lessons,” Cyrus cut in. “Why, I have only learned a scant few steps from her, and I have already had such promising results!” He was getting quite animated as he showed his support for the thief.
“I’m sure you both remember that I was entirely too intoxicated to be making sound decisions that night!” Her memory flashing with more scandalous moments. “The desire I voiced to Prim was nothing more than a jest.”
“And what desire might that be my dear, hmm?” It seems Primrose had finished her dance while the three were conversing and made her way over to the fire. Ophilia believed her face must be as red as a tomato at this point. By Aelfric, why must she be tortured so?
“Oh! Prim! I was simply -” Before she could continue, she was abruptly cut off by Therion speaking quickly.
“Ophilia here was just reminding us about those dance lessons you had promised her! She wasn’t sure how to go about asking but she is so very eager to learn.” As Therion easily weaved together a convincing lie, Ophilia glared very pointedly at him. When he was finished, she gave a sheepish glance Primrose’s way and felt a blush darken her cheeks yet again when their eyes locked. The dancer raised a single brow as she glanced Ophilia up and down. Letting out a sultry giggle, Primrose strode around the fire and straight up to the cleric.
“Well, I’m always happy to teach. Come Phili.” Those words spoken in that low, sensual voice of hers was all it took for Ophilia to break and allow herself to be guided up and away from the fire. She had seen the way Primrose put others under her spell dozens of times before and yet she could not prevent the same from happening to herself.
As Primrose was leading Ophilia away from the fire, Therion looked towards Cyrus very pointedly. “You felt it too, right? And the way she watched her dance? Come on, it’s obvious!”
“I’m still not convinced. Ophilia has never seemed the shy type to me.” Cyrus began to stroke his chin in thought. “If she truly had an interest in Primrose, surely she would have said something by this point.”
Slapping a hand to his forehead, Therion looked to Cyrus in exasperation. “There are some things you just can’t learn in a book. These sorts of things are complicated and subtle. It takes experience to spot. Luckily, I’m something of an expert on a range of human emotion.” Wiggling his eyebrows, Therion let another grin split his face at the thought of having more knowledge in a subject than the scholar sitting next to him.
“We will just have to see if this hypothesis of yours proves to be correct.” Cyrus then turned to scrutinize the two women, taking mental notes all the while.
Meanwhile, Ophilia currently had the well-toned arms of Primrose wrapped around her body. She was whispering commands into Ophilia’s ear as she helped move her body to mimic routines that the cleric had watched performed several dozens of times before. To her credit. Ophilia was doing her best to focus on what Primrose was saying. Moving her feet and doing simple twirls wasn’t too difficult and despite this she found the act to already be rewarding. Just as she was gaining confidence in herself to have the ability to focus on the dancing and not on the person of her affection pressing into her back, she suddenly felt hands firmly grip her waist and more hot breath on her ear.
“Oh Phili, you are doing wonderfully. Much better than I had anticipated. Now don’t forget to roll your hips. Such a simple motion but very essential.”
As Primrose coaxed Ophilia into moving, she could feel as her backside physically brushed against Primrose’s front, and it sent her mind into overdrive. Her heart began to race at the action, and she heard a throaty laugh in her ear.
“That’s the way Phili. Just keep following my lead and we’ll make a dancer out of you yet.”
And so, it continued. At times, Primrose would stand back and watch as Ophilia would repeat several motions multiple times. The way Primrose would praise her after each successful step gave Ophilia a rush of motivation and soon, she was invested in the dances, trying her hardest to impress the woman before her. And finally, after nearly an hour of practicing, Ophilia felt herself trip over her own clumsy feet and fall directly into Primrose’s arms. Looking down at her with a genuine smile, the dancer let out a laugh that Ophilia had only had the pleasure of hearing a few times in their travels. It was Primrose’s genuine laugh. A beautiful and musical sound that captivated her the first time she heard it. Looking up at the gorgeous woman above her, Ophilia knew this wasn’t just some simple attraction or passing infatuation.
She was in love.