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The night air was still and crisp as he stepped out the door; it was the kind of air that really got into your lungs, perked you up and made you feel alive and aware, even as it took your breath away. Every sound and, heck, even thought felt magnified and echoing against the deep quiet of the dark sky—and though hypothetically beautiful in a very poetic way, Raven found he didn't really appreciate it all that much. "Still" and "crisp" were just fancy ways of saying "actually very cold", which was pretty low on the list of climates Raven found enjoyable—most especially when he was dressed like this, that is, in nothing but a towel, slung low around his hips.
Across the courtyard, a few yards away, the hot springs beckoned invitingly, thick clouds of steam drifting lazily up from the water, promising to chase the cold away in its warm embrace. All that stood between him and that sweet, delicious warmth was the empty courtyard which, while not the most deadly foe he'd ever encountered in his life—or the period after that—still looked mighty formidable from his position, hovering in the doorway. From here, it was still possible to turn back, to return inside where it was bright and warm, put something more comfortable on and tuck himself under some thick blankets. Discretion was the better part of valor, as they said, after all. Sure, it wouldn't be half as warm or relaxing as he knew that water would be, but he wouldn't be facing down at least ten entire seconds of bitterly cold air and the undoubtedly colder stone tiling that made up the courtyard's floor.
But still, something stirred under the hunk of rock that had replaced his heart; Raven examined the feeling—was it pride? Machismo? The deep, near-primal need to sink himself chest deep in water a good five degrees above his core body temperature? Whatever it was, Raven felt it was a call he should, no, must answer—here he was, standing on the brink; the precipice that divided the manly, manly men from the boys, the heroes from the cowards, the— the people who sat in hot springs from the people who stayed indoors. Shaking off this lackluster ending to a good motivational speech, Raven gathered his courage and leaped into the fray—or, rather, hopped from foot to foot in a comically exaggerated stride, making quiet 'hoo' and 'hah' noises as he danced across the as-predicted ice-cold stone.
Carefully shifting from foot to foot on the edge of the pool, Raven tugged his towel off and draped it hastily over his shoulders, one of the ends falling neatly over the blastia embedded in his chest—sure he wasn't preserving his modesty, but secrecy outweighed modesty, and he'd always felt weirder about people catching sight of the one rather than the other, anyway. The courtyard was empty, and he wasn't expecting company, but better safe than exposed and driven out of the village with pitchforks for being some kind of undead monster or freaky science experiment—and therefore very, very sorry—he always thought. Sure, he knew Yuri and the princess and everyone would stand up for him, probably, if it came to that, but the poor kids spent so much time running around from place to place anyway, it seemed a shame to risk being driven off one of the most relaxing places they'd found yet—this charming little hot springs and inn, tucked into a forest in the middle of nowhere.
Towel in place, Raven stepped into the water at last—then jerked his foot back with a hiss at the near-painful flare of heat, a shock to his poor frozen toes. Not to be deterred this close to his goal, he mounted a second charge, coxing his foot slowly back into the water, then following after with the rest of his body, sliding down into the hot springs with a deep sigh of relief. He sat there for a long time—sunk low in the water, eyes closed and head tipped back against the ledge— thinking of nothing but how blissfully warm he was, listening to the deep sounds of nothing and drowsily appreciating that poetic beauty a little more from this new, more cozy position.
The soft swish of fabric and the gentle pulse of rippling water against his chest roused him, and he lifted his head in time to see Judith slowly lowering herself into the water, towel wrapped loosely around her—so quietly Raven doubted he'd have heard her at all, if it hadn't been nearly silent out here to begin with.
"Hey, there—Judith darlin'," he greeted, quieting self-consciously after the first words, their sound too sudden and too loud after all that quiet. "You should make a bit more noise next time—this poor old heart o' mine can't take being snuck up on like that."
"Oopsie," Judith smiled, the coy curve of her lips and laughter in her eyes indicating that she was not, in any way, even remotely sorry. "Don't trust me?"
"You know I trust you just fine," Raven assured her, straightening up awkwardly. "You just surprised me, that's all."
"Hmmm..." Judith drifted closer, wading easily through the deep water towards him. "Are you really sure that's a good idea?"
"Whaddaya mean by that, Judith darlin'?" Raven replied, watching her.
"You don't think you're a little too trusting?" Judith stopped just in front of him, hand on her hip, head cocked playfully.
"Kind of a silly thing to ask me a all people, ain't it? " Raven smiled at her, a little nervous and somehow unnerved by the way he had to look up—and, uh, over and around—to meet her eyes, as she towered above him. "Ol' Raven hasn't always been on the up and up with you kids."
"That makes two of us." Judith leaned over, bringing her—face closer, and Raven did his best to keep their gaze locked as she trailed one pointed nail along his jawline. Raven was sure she had to be able to feel his pulse pounding under her fingertips.
"I promised I didn't have any interest in Estelle... but the princess isn't the only one here who's hiding a powerful blastia, mm?" Judith's hand travelled lower, deftly brushing aside the towel and closing over the blastia case, the core humming against her open palm.
Raven's mouth went dry as Judith tightened her hold—enough that he could feel the bite of her fingernails at the edge of the blastia. There was a long moment of tense silence as Judith stared into his face—Raven's mind and heart racing furiously—before she smiled again, eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'm just kidding."
"—Right!" Raven exhaled, remembering to breathe, trying to sort through the feelings rushing through him. Confusion, relief, certainly—but also a strange spike of disappointment as Judith shifted, starting to pull away again.
She paused, however, eyebrows quirked up in amusement. "Well, that's certainly interesting."
Raven followed her gaze down, beneath the water and into his lap.
"Gah! I— ah," Raven babbled, not at all thankful for the sudden visual aid to what that final strange feeling knocking around in the pit of his stomach had been, and wishing he'd left his towel where it had been—or, heck, brought two, maybe!
"Hmm," Judith studied him thoughtfully, and Raven really wished she would look at his face, or—anywhere else, because her stare, while embarrassing, wasn't exactly helping matters. "That's definitely not the sort of reaction I expected by threatening your life."
"Er." Raven supplied helpfully—whatever else he had been about to say vanishing entirely from his mind as Judith unceremoniously stripped off her towel and dropped down to sit on his thighs, his cock now nestled between their bodies, resting against the soft curve of her belly. Raven squeaked.
"Am I just so pretty it overrides all your common sense?" Judith mused, draping herself on his shoulders, "I certainly wouldn't blame you. Or maybe—"
Raven opened his mouth to protest that 'maybe'—there was no 'maybe'! No other possibilities to explore here! —But the words died on his lips as Judith wrapped her fingers around the blastia casing again, digging her nails into him and—he swore—tugging lightly, as though she would tear it out with her bare hands. Between them, Raven's cock jumped, stiffening further.
That seemed to be all the encouragement Judith needed. Shifting up on her knees, she leaned forward—soft breasts crushed against his chest, their bodies pressed together in a long warm line—and began to rock against him. Raven bit back a groan at the way that felt—his cock trapped between them, rubbing against his stomach and hers as she moved. Judith clenched her hand around his blastia in time with the push of her hips—something like panic thrilling down Raven's spine with each sharp spike of pain, each muted tug on the casing—leaving him dizzy and reeling in confusion and desire beneath her.
A particularly sharp pull on the blastia wrenched a desperate moan out of him, which Judith answered with a hungry sound of her own, biting down roughly against his neck—and that was it; Raven bit his lip to muffle the noise as he stiffened and jerked against her, unable to think of anything but that he was coming with Judith's hand wrapped around what served for his heart, her teeth buried in his throat, and it was good, so good, in a way he couldn't even begin to explain.
His breaths sounded loud to him, harsh and ragged in the still air as he calmed. He blinked a few times, realizing the stars he was still seeing now were actual stars, and tipped his head so he could look down at Judith, still in his lap. She was resting her cheek against his shoulder, watching him through lowered eyelashes, her eyes nearly black as she watched him.
"Well, ah—" Raven started, voice coming out a little rough, "That certainly was something, darlin'..."
"Oh it was something, all right," Judith agreed, shifting against him. "But don't think I'm done with you just yet." Her tone was playful, but there was something much more predatory in the dark heat of her eyes. Raven shivered, pulse picking up again, a bit surprised at himself—he wasn't so young anymore, after all. But who was he to argue with a lady?