Rustic Strings Of Harps And Violins

Authors Note: Just as a warning there is a mild reference to sex in this. Don't like then click the back button. All reviews will be very much appreciated. Now on to the actual piece...

         With the pounding drums and the rustic strings of harps and violins the fire blazed as the women circled and danced. Their dark hair framing bronzed skin glinting in the firelight. Dagoran's eyes were dark and sharp as he watched amazed. Always watching never touching. The crescent moon cast its light down upon him as he sat, his eyes taking in every detail. The swaying of hips, the graceful movement of hands, the twirling of skirts and all the while the fire continued to burn. The Serpentine Dance of the Ivory Horn tribe.
         He watched one in particular, her face hidden by a veil yet her piercing eyes locked onto his as she danced. Beckoningly almost pleadingly she extended one hand towards him, fingers curling in time to the music. A chorus of voices began to sing in harmony with the night yet Dagoran remained unaware. The only things seeming real was him wrapped in his fur-lined cloak, his helmet with its horsehair plume beside him, and the woman dancing before the fire, her shoulders bare and skirt split on one side to teasingly reveal a slim shapely leg.
         The soldiers around him looked on, caught under the spell of the dance graciously thankful for the hospitality of the tribe. As the wooden flagon was passed to him Dagoran tore his eyes from the display looking down as he sipped at the offered drink. Handing the flagon to the next man he once again looked up and met the woman’s gaze and though her face remained cloaked by a veil he was certain a smile played upon her lips. Gracefully moving with the rhythm of the music she silently made her way to him and slipping her hands in his she gently urged him to stand.
         As she lead him away from the prying eyes of the men, deeper into the forest he forgot the battles that Dagoran knew lay before him. He followed almost in a dreamlike state, no words leaving his mouth for fear of breaking the spell. Gently gripping his hand he felt the warmth of her palm, the gentle softness of her skin soothing and comforting in the simple touch. Appearing to be satisfied at the distance from the camp she stopped and stood before him. Her hands reached up and with deliberate slowness she removed the veil, her eyes slowly rising to meet his in such a way she seemed to be almost hesitant, gauging his reaction.
         Now with her veil removed Dagoran could finally see all her face. Her large slanted eyes above high, pronounced cheekbones and tempting red full lips. Her features seemed almost girlish, young and innocent like a maid yet nonetheless strikingly attractive and he would have complemented her beauty had his mind not seemed incapable of forming coherent thoughts. Still no words passed between them, not even when her arms slid around his neck and her lips found their way to his. Even when his arms of their own accord enveloped her as warmth and passion soared through them. No questions asked, no endearments uttered. Just the meaningful actions of what both felt and wanted.
         As the stars sparkled in the heavens above, the spell-bindingly mesmerizing figures rose elegantly as waves of desire swept through them, enchanted them. Soft gasps of ecstasy, blissful sighs of contentment, of pure pleasure lingered, the musky fragrance drifting in the air before settling lazily on the strikingly beautiful figures upon the grass.
         Lying upon the ground with his cloak serving as a blanket, her head tucked beneath his chin and his arm wrapped protectively around her, Dagoran stared up through the towering trees gazing intently at the shining crescent moon. And as his eyes finally lost against the battle for sleep all that remained, fading into the beauty of the night, were the sounds of rustic strings of harps and violins.