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Woods. The familiar scent and feeling of the forest air and earth on her skin and beneath her feet fill Lae'zel with electric joy. She can’t contain it, it needs to go somewhere. She throws off her backpack and her share of the bags, rips off her sandals, and just runs. Loudly. She runs loudly, vocalizes loudly. Home. She’s home. The day they can move to their little cabin permanently will be the happiest day of her life, even happier than when Shadowheart told her they’d be together forever. She even gave her the honor of making the rings to symbolize it, and they had this whole fancy ceremony and everything just so they could celebrate their forever togetherness.
Ceremonies of togetherness aside, this is where she feels at home. Right here, in the woods among nature and dirt, this is home. The city isn’t her home, this is her home, her real home. Freedom to be loud, to jump, to climb on everything, to follow her whims and just run in circles as she pleases. Lae’zel couldn’t think of a better place to live in their together foreverness. One day, her wife says, one day.
Shadowheart would find her wife’s unrestrained excitement endearing if she wasn't already so overwhelmed from traveling. All she wants is to get the cabin set up, get the routine going, and hide until tomorrow! She huffs to herself. Getting Lae’zel’s attention now is futile. She’s lost in her own world. Looks like she’s gonna have to carry her wife’s gross sandals and her backpack and the rest of their shit to the cabin. She will be making her clean the floor and her gross feet after she tracks in mud though. She loudly sighs a few times to release some tension. Seeing her wife this relaxed and happy is a blessing. A very annoying blessing. As annoyed as she is, she knows Lae’zel will make it up to her later, somehow. She always finds a way to make it up, even if her attempts are clumsy and haphazard.
Every summer, Shadowheart and her wife retreat to their cabin in the woods. They go hiking, enjoy nature, do absolutely nothing some days, and just get to be themselves without the pressure of society. Lae’zel’s always been more oblivious to what society thinks of her. Shadowheart envies that, but she knows Lae’zel suffers for it. How long has Lae’zel been keeping her burst of energy in anyway, she wonders? As much as Shadowheart suffers for her uncanny ability to hide aspects of herself, she’s thankful she can at least keep steady employment.
Still, her wife does fairly well for herself with her blacksmithing and jewelry making, especially now that she’s finally hired help with logistics and to sell stuff on her behalf. As long as she doesn't do any public facing stuff, all is well. Her people skills leave much to be desired, especially when it comes to making sales. Thankfully, her work speaks for itself. She’s quite talented working a forge and hammer, and her knowledge in ancient weaponry, blades, and historical recreation is next to none. Just don't expect much in the way of manners unless she likes you. Shadowheart also thinks Lae’zel genuinely doesn’t realize she’s supposed to be selling the stuff she makes at craft shows and markets and fairs. Prior to having someone sell stuff on her behalf, if a curious customer walked up and asked a question, she would just go on, and on, and on about the intricacies of said item and all of its historical inspirations and techniques and not actually let the customer talk. And then she’d get mad if she was interrupted! No, it’s much better now that someone else sells and takes orders on her behalf. All she needs to do is hammer away.
Shadowheart kicks open the cabin door and throws her and Lae’zel’s backpacks on the ground. She left her wife’s nasty muddy too-old sandals on the front porch. Ugh. She’s too attached to these grimy things. They're falling apart and disgusting and she doesn't want to think about them! All Shadowheart wants to collapse on the bed and play with her rubric's cube under the covers. When she realizes their bed is unmade, she wants to cry. Good thing Lae’zel is here – her bed making champion.
“Lae’zel!” She yells, “Enough running around! Come help me unpack. Finish running around later.”
Having gotten all her excitement out of her system for now “What do you need me to do? What needs to be done?” Lae’zel says when she walks over.
Shadowheart gets a bit snippy. “Everything needs to be done! Everything!” She snaps.
But Lae’zel won't act without clear orders. As much as Lae’zel claims she likes her independence, she is notoriously bad at actually being independent. Luckily, they’re prepared for this potential argument. Over the past few days, the two of them created a list of all the things Lae’zel is responsible for. It allows Lae’zel to work without adding to Shadowheart’s stress and overwhelm.
Her entire life, Shadowheart’s always been easily overwhelmed. As a child she was a frequent eloper. When she got overwhelmed, she ran. Once, she even got lost in the woods! Quiet, it was quiet among the trees and plants and flowers. They were quiet, little friends buzzing with life and pleasant smells. Then came a big search and rescue dog and it spooked her so badly that she ran away further, deeper into the woods. Among the trees and plants and flowers, it was peaceful and serene in a way her child self never realized was possible. It took a long time to finally catch her and bring her home. Since that day, she kept trying to run back to the woods to see all the pretty flowers again. They spoke to her, they were her friends. The aftermath made her parents realize something might be a little off about their daughter, more than they initially thought. They took her to the doctor, and eventually found out Shadowheart’s autistic. She’s not just strange and sensitive like they thought she was. She’s autistic.
“Here,” Shadowheart says as she shoves the linens they brought, “Go make the bed…but don’t lay on it until you shower! You’re sweaty, muddy, and you already stink. And go get your list.”
“My scent, it’s quite enticing to you, isn't it?” she replies. Lae’zel walks closer to Shadowheart and smells her. She smells of lightly scented floral oils and her own natural musk. It makes Lae’zel smile, “Your scent is enticing to me. It makes me want to taste you tonight.”
“Ugh! No! I don't want to have sex later! You smell like sweat. I smell like sweat. We are both disgusting!” Shadowheart whines. “I just want to focus on getting everything set up. I can't relax until everything is set up. I’m tired. Do you have your list?”
Lae’zel frowns. Her wife, her joy, she is overwhelmed. It’s quite obvious. They both like their routines, and usually she’s overwhelmed by newness too. There’s just something about the woods that just brings her peace from all of that, she feels free. Much of her life was spent in a rural backwater town with other Githyanki, isolated from the rest of the world. She struggled fitting in with her kin no matter how hard she tried, no matter how well she performed. She’s always felt suffocated around others, but the freedom of exploring the woods never left her spirit. Shadowheart was different. She grew up in the city. The woods mean freedom in a different sense to her.
“I have my list and I will begin my tasks on my list. Speak to me if you need anything.” As much as Lae’zel can't wait to frolic all about in her natural territory, she also loves completing tasks on a list and crossing them off. It's almost just as exciting to her. It's orderly, everything all lined up in a row. She likes things that are orderly and lined up in a row. Predictability. Crossing everything off one by one. Satisfactory.
The two of them work in silence on their respective tasks in their respective areas of the cabin. It's peaceful for both of them. Shadowheart organizes, cleans, and puts things away and Lae’zel fixes up some things and deals more with the physical labor oriented things. The first few days are always the hardest, but it's worth the peace of the rest of the summer.
Shadowheart smiles to herself at the occasional burst of vocal stims she hears from Lae’zel. It's cute when she does her happy ones. Even if they aren't in the same room, Shadowheart can just see her fluttering her ears and physically stimming as she works.
They work well into the evening, and well after sundown, only stopping for lunch and a few snacks here and there. Shadowheart just finished the kitchen and she's exhausted. Going to bed sounds perfect, if only she wasn't so sweaty and gross feeling. Lae’zel’s walking over to her. The sound of her foot claws tapping against the wood gives her away. Shadowheart looks over and there she is, shirtless. At some point she must’ve thrown off her bra because she's completely shirtless in nothing but her cargo shorts with her hair tied in the worst ponytail she’s ever seen.
“I’m going to take a bath so you don't complain about my scent tonight,” she says, “Would you like to join me? Join me in a bath?”
There’s something about her overly formal way of speaking in contrast to her disheveled appearance that makes Shadowheart’s stomach flip in excitement. Her baby hairs cling to her neck and face, she’s dusty, and even her ratty ponytail is doing something to her. Lae’zel is a mess and it’s unintentionally turning Shadowheart into a mess. The urge to get up and kiss her wife is overwhelming. So, she gives in. Lae’zel’s always more than happy to be indulged in affection.
When they pull apart, Lae’zel asks her again. “Would you like to join me in a bath?”
A bath does sound nice right about now. She’s sore from moving stuff all day, from walking to and from the car, from cleaning. As much as she complains about her wife being dirty and sweaty, she's probably just as bad. “I'd love to,” Shadowheart says.
Lae’zel’s entire body twitches with excitement as she begins excitedly pulling her toward the bathroom. Bathing together is one of their favorite activities. Shadowheart loves the scented oils Lae’zel needs to use on her skin to keep it soft, to keep it from shedding and molting excessively. In the morning, after it all fully sinks in, that's the only time her wife smells good. When they bathe together, she too gets to indulge in those scented oils. If they weren’t needed for Lae’zel’s health and comfort, if they weren’t so expensive, Shadowheart would indulge in them everyday until she died.
The warm water against her skin feels amazing, and Shadowheart loves leaning up against Lae’zel in the bath. As strange as it sounds, Lae’zel is amazing at washing hair. The way her wife runs her claws against her scalp, how she really manages to scratch all the dirt and grime away. It feels so good. Shadowheart can’t help but let her hand flap the slightest bit under the water while she makes her own loud and happy vocalizations at the excitement she feels. In a bit Lae’zel will wash her hair so good that not even she is able to suppress her stimming. For now, they just cuddle and chat.
“I like your softness,” Lae’zel purrs out of nowhere. Shadowheart feels her wife’s hands squishing and playing with the rolls of fat which bunch up around her belly and hips. “My hands are full of joy when I feel your softness. Everyday I work with hardness. All kinds of metals and stones and heavy tools and sharp tools. Then, I feel you and your softness and I become obsessed with it. I don’t understand why.”
For the longest time Shadowheart remembers hating how soft her body was no matter how much she exercised, no matter how hard she tried to lose weight. Her body was just…doomed to be soft and curvy. Lumpy as she called it. Or at least she felt that way until she met Lae’zel. The way Lae’zel lovingly squishes her and plays with her, it makes her feel loved. She feels like dough underneath Lae’zel’s fingertips, dough being lovingly kneaded by a talented baker. Truly, she’s talented with her hands in more ways than one.
“And I like your spots,” Shadowheart replies. She could run her fingers and palms up and down all day on her wife’s slightly raised spots. Best of all, when she wants to be romantic, she knows just the place on Lae’zel’s face where her thumbs should rest – right on her face spots. Never again will she accidentally screw up a romantic face holding! It’s all drawn out for her, right on her lover’s face.
Then, she feels her wife’s clawed finger tips travel up toward her chest. Shadowheart giggles as Lae’zel starts squishing and playing with her breasts. At first she found it off putting, not knowing if she was missing some intimate social cue. Now she loves it. What a relief it is that Lae’zel is always painfully upfront when she’s horny and wanting to be sexual, that Shadowheart doesn't have to second guess every touch in fear of misinterpreting. Right now, none of it is sexual for either of them.
She nuzzles up against her wife so she has an easier time squishing her. “I love it when you squish me!” She feels Lae’zel gently rocking behind her as she plays with her body. Her entire body tingles when she feels Lae'zel’s sharp teeth against her ear. Her ear is being gently nibbled on and sucked now. Occasionally, she feels Lae’zel’s rough tickly tongue behind the cartilage.
Pure sensory bliss. Between the fragrance of Lae’zel’s vanilla scented bath oil, the warmth of the water, the feeling of her lover’s touch and mouth, Shadowheart’s filled with happiness she can no longer contain. It swells within her, begging to be let out. Repression only makes her body ache. For once, she decides to let it out. She splashes and flaps her hands in the water and joins Lae’zel in her back and forth rocking. Whatever noises her mind and body yearn to make, she lets out. However her face wants to be, she follows her whims. Shadowheart's unapologetic expression of her delight only seems to make Lae’zel happier, as now she’s also vocal stimming right into her ear. Autistic joy consumes them both. To experience it together is love, safety, and intimacy in their most raw and immaculate forms. It’s going to be a good summer.