1.50: New Moon

Mature content warning. Surprise, surprise!

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“Your sisters are so young still. It pains me that I won’t be here to see them grow up.” Dad’s voice was so weak.

“I will take care of them, Dad, and of Mother.” Jace squared his shoulders. It was time to grow up. His family needed him.

“You’re a good son, Jace, you’ll be a fine man. I’m proud of you. When the time comes, though, know this: I want you to live your own life.”

 

 

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“Live your own life.”

Jace sighed and wiped the sweat off his face with his forearm. The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the apple trees as he resumed harvesting in the orchard. How had Dad kept up with all this? Granted, Jace only had time after school and on weekends, when he sometimes employed the help of his little sisters. But more often than not, they ended up chasing each other through the garden or playing in piles of fallen autumn leaves. He didn’t quite have the firmness his father had had in dealing with them, and frankly, hadn’t had the heart to attempt forcefulness in the weeks since Dad had died, and neither had Mother.

Things had changed. The girls were running amok. Mother tried to put on a smile for her children, but her heart wasn’t in discipline or order anymore, and he couldn’t blame her. She seemed lost without Dad. After spending half your life with someone, it couldn’t be easy without them. Jace didn’t have time to feel lost, though. Repairs and chores needed doing, the garden needed tending, and the responsibility of hunting and fishing fell to him as well. He was tempted to drop his after-school activities to have more time, but Dad wouldn’t have wanted that. That, at least, he’d been firm about, when Annika wanted to drop her ballet class. Dad wouldn’t have wanted that.

 

 

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As the family grieved together, Annika shed very few tears, Jace noticed. He took her fishing a few times, and she seemed to enjoy the quiet time together, but otherwise she held herself away from the grief. She seemed to play even harder. Perhaps that was her way of filling the void. Everyone was coping in their own ways.

Various villagers provided a lot of moral support too, reminding them that they weren’t alone in their grief, that they still had lots of family and friends who cared. Ayala’s boyfriend Dustin came over every day to spend time with her, and he often lent a hand in the gardens, or helped Jace make needed repairs. He’d even gone hunting with Jace and Carrick. Carrick came with Nala often, along with Abel, who played with his sisters. Countless others paid their respects, even some merchants who’d stopped by the island, who had often bought Dad’s nectars.

 

 

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Jace was regretful that he didn’t even have much time for Natasha lately. She spent most afternoons at their camp, and they worked on their schoolwork together, but he missed jaunting around the island with her alone.

Alone. He sighed again. He definitely missed the alone time with her. He missed kissing her. It had been a little awkward at first, but they’d fooled around at some of the bonfire parties. Man, he missed that. It was only awkward, he guessed, because it was such a completely new element in their relationship. She’d been his best friend and girlfriend for years now, but it was like suddenly the horizon had opened up and he was seeing–and feeling–her in wholly new and exciting ways. Last time they’d gone swimming by themselves, Natasha had let him take off her swimsuit top. It had embarrassed them both when he popped a woody, but gosh it had felt good.

 

 

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Ayala pulled her nightshirt on over her head, and tried to tell her mind that it was time for bed. She couldn’t believe Daddy had been gone weeks already. It still hurt like he’d only gone yesterday. Ayala swiped the tears from her eyes.

Dustin had stayed late, as he often had recently. Although they hadn’t been alone together very often, he’d spent a lot of time with her and her family in unspoken empathy and support. It was almost as if he were a part of the family; he’d gone hunting with Jace, helped in the orchard, and even upgraded the fireplace in Mother’s room. And he was always there waiting for her when she got out of school. Tonight he’d built up the fire for Mother when she turned in for the evening, then spent a few quiet moments with Ayala before heading home to his own camp.

A chilly breeze haunted her through the window, shivering fingers through her nightshirt. She didn’t want to be alone. She wanted to be warm. She wanted to be happy. She wanted Dustin.

 

 

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Ayala slipped off the bed and padded to the open doorway, looking out. The courtyard was dark; as was most of the village, she could see from her view. But she did see one fire burning. Dustin. He must not’ve gone straight to sleep when he got back to camp. With a glance over her shoulder to make sure the fireplace was safely banked, Ayala turned and slipped down the stairs on silent feet.

The village was as quiet as it ever got. A baby’s cry pierced the night air. A dog barked. A man snored from a nearby shelter. The night was dark, and deep. There was no moon in the sky. The dark of the moon births the new moon, and therein was magick, and, Ayala knew, life. Dark gives way to light, as does death give way to life. Follow your heart, and you’ll end up where you belong. Her dead father’s last words to her twisted through her mind. Ayala’s feet brought her through the dark unerringly to Dustin’s camp.

 

 

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She paused on the darkened path, drinking in the sight of him reading a book by the fire. She smiled at his reading glasses.

Dustin took the glasses off and lay the book down, stretching. She admired the muscles of his body stretching and then relaxing.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

She started at the sound of his voice, then took the remaining steps out of the darkness into the circle of firelight.

 

 

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“How did you know I was here?” She walked to him where he lay on the ground, and knelt beside him.

His blue eyes looked up at her warmly, reflecting the firelight. “The air is different when you’re near. Call it my witch’s intuition.” He tapped the side of his head. Reaching up an arm, he pulled her down onto his chest and brushed back her hair. “What’s wrong love?”

 

 

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The tender concern in his voice almost brought her to tears again. But right now it wasn’t sympathy that she needed. Death had left a cold emptiness in her life. Now, she needed an affirmation of life. “I need you,” said the words from her mouth.  Rising, she slid a knee across his belly, straddling him, and leaned forward to kiss him.

“You have me. You always have.” You always will. Dustin’s manner was tender, lightly stroking her bare thigh beneath her nightshirt, but his senses went on alert. He could feel Ayala’s anchorless mood reaching into him for something to hold onto. Looking at the sky, he too noted the absence of the moon. The new moon was near. It was a time of magick, a time of beginnings. And it had brought Ayala to his camp in the middle of the night, to forge a new path.

Ayala felt the shift in his thoughts, felt the sudden, humming tension of his skin beneath her fingers. “What are you thinking?”

 

 

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Dustin remained silent a few moments. Then his arms crushed her to him and rolled their bodies over. Staring down at her, his mouth hovered over hers. “I need you too,” he whispered. He rested his forehead against hers, eyes closed for a moment. “I love you Ayala.” Ayala opened her mouth to speak, only to have it claimed. “I love you.” The words were spoken against her lips, not giving her a breath to respond. “I cherish you.” He kissed her again, harder this time. “I want you. In every way.”

Thoughts stumbled blindly through her mind, unnoticed, as her mind’s eye sharpened its focus on Dustin and her senses heightened. His words alone called both her heart and her body, brought her to life. I do need him. Now. Arching her back off the ground, she pulled her nightshirt off over her head. “Make love to me,” she whispered.

 

 

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He kissed her then, almost reverently, quickly possessively. Hungrily, he slid down to taste her breasts. A hand roved down her belly, and eagerly Ayala arched her back, opening for him when his hand cupped her mons. Her fingers bit into Dustin’s shoulder and she inhaled sharply when his fingers slid into her outer lips. Leaning up, Dustin kissed her mouth, his fingers stroking between her legs, his own breath rasping against her face.

Their hands fumbled together at the waist of his pants. Dustin paused to extricate himself, silently cursing that taking his pants off suddenly seemed such a difficulty. But finally the length of their naked bodies lay against each other, and their frenzied touches resumed. The feel and sight of her body rising beneath his hands and lips, the moans issuing from her mouth with every breath as he stroked her assaulted him. More. He needed more. Scooting backward, Dustin buried his nose and mouth between her thighs. Smelling her, tasting her, Ayala engaged all of his senses. Gods yes. But this time, it wasn’t enough.

 

 

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Dustin rose over her, kissing her hard. Ayala could taste herself on him. His hips settled against hers, pressing against her, and she instinctively mimicked the motion.  His erection bumped against her, further stoking the arousal his hands and mouth had sparked. “Dustin.” She whispered his name against his ear, and he pulled back to look at her. His eyes glowed blue in the darkness. “I haven’t…I’m a virgin.”

“You haven’t?” Surprise registered in his eyes, then he suddenly gasped when she raised her hips and the tip of him slipped into her. He held himself very still, gazing down at her, then squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to control his body.

Ayala shook her head. “No… I’m scared it will hurt.” It didn’t hurt so far, but having this much of him inside of her already felt very…full. He started to withdraw, but she clamped her legs behind his.

 

 

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Leaning his head against her forehead, Dustin breathed deeply and tried his damnedest not to move. The tight heat surrounding just the tip of him was almost enough to make him lose control. “Oh baby, I didn’t know.” A hundred thoughts raced each other in his mind, the greatest of which was the import that they’d be sharing this experience for the first time with each other. That made it somehow even more special. Magickal.

While he had zero experience in the matter, it was common knowledge that a woman’s first time having sex could hurt. He didn’t want to hurt her, but that was kind of a physiological fact.

It was also a bit of a relief to know she hadn’t been intimate with his half-brother. And a heady honor that she wanted him to be her first lover.

He kissed her breast, slowly sucking the dusky areola between his lips, then finally kissed her mouth again. “Ayala,” he raised his head to look her in the eye, his brows raised in emotion. “This is my first time too,” he confessed.

 

 

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Now it was Ayala’s turn to look surprised. He nodded, kissing her again. Easing his hips back slightly, he withdrew and then pushed forward again, no deeper than before, again groaning at the wet sensation of having her all around him.  “We are sharing this for the first time together.”

Ayala relaxed, letting her body expand around him. It didn’t hurt yet. It felt good, actually. Having him inside her was…completion.

“We’ll go slow.” Again he withdrew, and pushed in again, a little deeper. And again. Oh, it did feel good. She wanted more of him. On his next thrust, her hips rose to meet him, and this time a quick, bright pain popped inside her and she flinched. Dustin could feel it, and studied her face. He didn’t move an inch.

Ayala bit her lip. Ouch. Yes, that hurt, but it wasn’t so bad. Slowly, she forced herself to relax again. The only barrier now was her own inner tension.

 

 

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Dustin maintained a slow pace, relishing Ayala’s expressions beneath him. Joining their mouths, he pulled back, and another thrust brought them closer, and  closer still as Ayala rose up to meet him. His face hovering over hers, he thrust again, then again, finally fully sheathed in her. He paused, savoring this moment of complete joining. “I love you,” he whispered.

“And I you,” Ayala responded simply.

 

 

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“How do you feel?”

Pleasurable sensations were slowly replacing the pain as her body accommodated his, the friction of each small thrust building little crescendos in her flesh. Never had they been closer physically or emotionally than this moment, and that thought brought tears of emotion to her eyes. “I feel whole,” she said softly. Dustin withdrew slowly, only to fill her again completely, again and again, with agonizing slowness until Ayala’s breath came in little gasps and her hips rose against him to take him deeper. All of him. She wanted all of him.

 

 

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Nature’s instincts slowly took over, and the world narrowed to only the movements of their joined bodies, their whispers, their breathing. As daylight nibbled at the fringe of the eastern horizon, Ayala’s body shuddered around him as Dustin poured himself into her. Finally, they slept in each other’s arms, tangled together in the pale morning light.

 

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Dustin and Ayala’s story is nearly complete, tying up the last ongoing story line of generation one. Stay tuned for the generation finale and epilogue!

ETA! Thanks to my awesome poser buddies for use of some of their work in this chapter: ShakespearesSunshyne, for the pose of Ayala wiping away her tears, and gemly_teddie for use of the child mourning poses. And Mypalsim for letting me use one of her yet-unreleased naughty poses. Dustin appreciates it! Actually, so does Ayala 😛