Frost and Frontiers

Frost and Ice

Frost and Ice

Isolde pulled back the gray clouds with a flick of her wrists, the better to view the damage by the pink-orange light of the morning. Another entire field claimed, stretching from an abandoned traveler’s hut deep into a forest at the edge of the horizon. Isolde frowned, bubbling with rage as new sunlight caught the complex curls of frost, the chill spirals and frills parading over the land. Her land.

“Jaq,” she hissed under her breath.

“You called, Highness?” asked a voice behind her, smug, with the last word frigid.

Isolde turned slowly, hooking tendrils of magic into the ice crystals under her feet. She wasn’t surprised Jaq had been waiting here, though she had been expecting something more. A trap, perhaps.

She tilted up her head as she took in the cocky figure. Jaq lounged against the side of the traveler’s hut, arms crossed lightly as though relaxed, but Isolde would not be fooled. Jaq had something up her sleeve. Well, something up her vest—she wasn’t actually wearing any sleeves. Tight, skimpy leather pieces were Jaq’s preferred clothing choice, probably for the thrill of the cold. Everything was for the thrill with her, from her ice blue hair, short and spiked, to her pale grey eyes, the color of a hint of snowstorm. Isolde caught herself spending too much time considering Jaq’s blue lips, a pop of color on her pale face. Isolde shook herself; next she would be examining Jaq’s ass.

“This is my land, Jaq.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Jaq, eyes glittering like new snow. “It’s my frost all over it.”

Jaq leaned forward and tipped herself off the side of the crumbling shack. Immediately Isolde made a twisting motion with her fingers and a short wall of pointed icicles, tips outward, sprung up. It was only about ankle-high, but she wanted to send a message. Jaq shuffled down to her as though not even noticing the action, circling.

Isolde got the feeling Jaq was checking her out, appraising her, and it irritated her further. She stiffened her posture, self-conscious. She was curvier where Jaq was scrawnier, a fact she played up with tight dresses that displayed her hourglass figure. Today she wore a long dress the color of hardened snow, sprinkled with diamonds in flake patterns. The fabric dipped low over her chest, dangled long at her wrists. In preparation for a confrontation, she had twisted her long, silver-white hair up and fixed it in a knot on her head with an icicle. She was so pale, she always had to put color back on her face—lips red today, cheeks dusted pink, though she wondered if it was necessary with how she felt the heat rise in her as Jaq circled back around to view her backside again.

“This is the third time this month you’ve attempted to take my land,” said Isolde, unmoving, forcing Jaq to come around to face her.

Jaq did, amusement pulling her blue lips upward. “And you hurry right out every time. It’s like you’re hoping to see me.”

“Don’t think so much of yourself,” snapped Isolde, rotating slightly as Jaq went back to circling. “You think I could keep an entire kingdom running without handling any…incidents that occur?”

“You don’t handle every incident in person, I hear.”

“Most people don’t steal huge stretches of land—stand still.”

“Why?” asked Jaq, but she stopped stalking. “Do you have difficulty hitting a moving target, Highness?” She grinned as Isolde scowled.

“Remove your frost magic from my land.”

Jaq leaned closer.

“Or what?” she asked.

Isolde narrowed her eyes, pulled the cloud cover back with a flick of her wrists. She and Jaq had danced around this the last two times they met, but this time she knew there would be a fight.

“I won’t ask you again.”

Jaq retreated some, into the field where her thick frost had made the tall grasses into fronds of delicate ice, thick sculptures of curving abstraction. She waved a hand.

“My realm is too small. I need the space to expand.”

“Renegade,” hissed Isolde. “You already carved out your space. Alone. That’s where you wanted to be, remember? I allowed it.”

Jaq shrugged. Isolde only noticed she was gathering wind to her when her vest flapped up, nearly revealing the left half of her chest. Isolde’s eyes were drawn to the movement, to the bare flesh, the smooth stomach. Jaq lifted an arm, the winds curling around her hand like thread on a spool.

“And I’m telling you, I need more. You have plenty. Will you really make me fight you for it?”

“You’re the instigator here, Jaq,” said Isolde, returning the icicles around her into crystals. When she pulled on them, they danced up around her, a shimmering wall of ice shards. “That’s your preferred role, if you’ve forgotten.”

Jaq laughed.

“You keep telling yourself that, Highness. Here, catch.”

She launched a ball of wind at Isolde’s face; Isolde stepped to the side rather than engage it. The wind whooshed back around, rattling her ice shards on its way to Jaq.

“You’re out of practice,” said Jaq, making an exaggerated disappointed face.

“I’m not here to play,” snapped Isolde.

“Then why haven’t you ended this already?” Jaq made a lazy motion with a hand, pulling up a frost-encrusted length of grass with her magic and hardening the ice into a javelin. “We both know you’re the more powerful.”

Isolde was unsure of that. True, she had been better adept at twisting the cold to her desires, but that was before Jaq had demanded her own space, gone off on her own. Who knew how many hours a day she spent playing with the forces of the winter? How many of Isolde’s own tricks and techniques she’d perfected in all the months since she had left? Isolde scowled, silently cursing herself. She should have never gotten close to Jaq. But then, Jaq had been the only person who had ever come close to being her equal. She’d been too tempting to resist then.

And too tempting now, she realized. Jaq didn’t want more land—she wanted Isolde’s attention. And Isolde couldn’t resist giving it to her.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” she said. “But you need to back off, Jaq.”

“I don’t remember you giving that bearded man who burned a couple of your scraggly villages any chances. You just froze him like that,” said Jaq, snapping her fingers. “Don’t go soft on me now.”

Isolde fixed Jaq’s smug face with her best frosty glare. In response, Jaq hefted the javelin and threw it. Isolde brought her ice crystals up to form a shield like mail; it buckled but caught the frost weapon, devouring it into itself. Isolde struggled to not react to the feel of Jaq’s magic as she peeled it away with her own and let the long strand of grass fall to the ground.

“I don’t go soft,” said Isolde, trying not to remember. Jaq had been a guest in her icy castle for only a few weeks before her advances caused turmoil. She hadn’t accepted Isolde’s desire to remain unattached, although Isolde supposed she could have been somewhat misleading—she’d once allowed herself the pleasure of making out with Jaq after a particularly harrowing day.

“Good,” said Jaq. “Because you might have a problem otherwise. I don’t plan on holding back.”

“That’s why you’re standing here chatting, is it?” asked Isolde.

Jaq’s eyes seemed to glitter a little less at that, and Isolde was heartened something could affect her.

Isolde decide to run with it. If Jaq deflated at her coldness, then let her be cold. She shrugged.

“Very well. I gave you enough of a chance,” said Isolde, then turned a hand palm up. It would have almost looked like a gesture of goodwill, except for the fact her ice shards began to hum. It was a high-pitched noise Jaq couldn’t fail to recognize. And indeed, Isolde could see some of the satisfaction creep back into Jaq’s expression, her fingers twitching as though playing an invisible instrument, causing her winds to howl.

If Jaq wanted a fight, then she’d get one. Isolde had no intention of going easy on her just because she was once interested in the woman.

Jaq cast her winds forward again, a strong, stubborn first attack. Too strong, too typical of Jaq to take a hard offensive. As Isolde was shielding it from striking her, she tried to figure out what exactly Jaq was holding back—it had to be something. Striking too hard immediately was what had cost her many of the times she and Isolde had sparred in the past. Isolde wasn’t about to wait to find out, though, so she let loose a barrage of hail from her clouds.

It pinged harmlessly off a canopy of tightly swirling winds over Jaq’s head, and her blue lips twisted into a satisfied smirk. Isolde couldn’t have heard the whirring of the winds protecting Jaq with the rush of so many winds around her. They tightened like a tornado constricting; Isolde could do very little against them without trying to wrest away Jaq’s magic with her own. Her tiny ice shards, while effective should she want to shred Jaq to bits, would only be swept away and used to slice her apart instead if she tried to press them upon the wind. And so she pulled them in closer, to her body.

“Really,” said Jaq, disappointed. The wind pulled back. “You can’t be trying.” When the wind retreated, Jaq stood right in front of Isolde, eyes locked. She looked irritated.

“I told you I don’t want to hurt you,” said Isolde. And she could. Any number of things she could do with her magic would end Jaq—her ice shards could rip the flesh from Jaq’s bones, or she could command the clouds to strike Jaq down with a bolt of lightning, or, like she had with the bearded man, she could freeze every cell in Jaq’s body. But as much of a nuisance as Jaq was, Isolde wanted to do no such thing to her.

“It’s too late for that.” Frowning, Jaq made a motion with her hand and the frost beneath Isolde’s feet surged like writhing snakes over her feet, up her ankles and legs. The sudden chill took Isolde’s breath away and she reacted without thinking, sending her ice crystals out in a long chain and restraining Jaq’s hands behind her back.

Jaq grinned at that.

“Knew you were holding back,” she said, staring directly into Isolde’s eyes. With her arms firmly behind her, her vest pulled open even wider, showing more than just the few inches of flesh from neck to navel that had been visible before. Isolde struggled to meet Jaq’s eyes, to glare her down, to not allow Jaq to see her gaze straying. A breeze flapped the edge of the vest.

Jaq’s fingers were still free; with them, she must have decided to continue her attack. Isolde felt the tendrils of frost snake higher, up her thighs, caressing her in chills. Her skin prickled; water dripped down her inner thighs as she began to heat up, melting the edges of the curling feathers of ice. She told herself it was rage.

“Jaq,” she hissed.

Jaq took a step closer. “Looks like we both have each other exactly where we want. Are you going to take me home and throw me in your dungeon?”

Isolde couldn’t do it. She couldn’t keep eye contact with this woman. She’d glared down all sorts of dangerous people and creatures, stared unafraid at magicians more powerful than she was, hadn’t blinked at an oncoming fire demon once years back. But she could not meet Jaq’s cloudy eyes. She liked the storm too much, and she was afraid Jaq would be able to see that.

Instead she focused on tightening Jaq’s bonds. She considered coiling more icy rope around Jaq’s ankles, to really keep her in place, but her own dripping legs and Jaq’s words made her think twice. Jaq was already enjoying herself far too much.

“Absolutely not,” said Isolde crisply. “You’d probably enjoy it.”

Jaq leaned closer.

“Isn’t the real problem that you would?” she asked, eyes glittering, this time without any irritation. She really was enjoying herself. Isolde knew she should retreat now, even if it meant giving this piece of land to Jaq. She could restrain Jaq for long enough to get away, easily. And if she stayed…More melted ice dripped down her legs. The cold would make her overheat.

“I used to like your optimism,” she said, trying to stop herself from lingering and failing. She wanted to see something other than smugness on Jaq’s face. “But it gets you into a lot of trouble, doesn’t it?”

Isolde went ahead and bound Jaq’s ankles with her ice chain, too, affixing the ends into a block of solid ice. If the woman wanted to be thrown in a dungeon, then Isolde would give that to her. And, before she left, she would encase Jaq’s fingers in ice. It would take her long enough to get out of that. Maybe she would think twice about confronting Isolde again anytime soon.

“Nothing I don’t like,” said Jaq, leaning forward and trusting the strength of Isolde’s ice chains to bear her weight. Isolde had to keep focus on the spell, though; like the fronds of frost in their cycle of climb and melt up her legs, Jaq’s skin was hot enough to melt her bonds a little. The water dripped over her fingers, flying off in droplets with each flick she made to maintain the churn of the frost growth over Isolde’s skin.

The heat was intense under Isolde’s skin now, burning her from the inside out. Even as she told herself she was allowing this to continue to make Jaq think she had the upper hand, Isolde knew she was drawing this out because it turned her on, because she was wet not just from the melt of delicate ice crystals. The chill curls ensnaring her legs and then melting away caused a tingle to roll all the way up her skin and nestle between her thighs, and she relished drawing out the sensation.

She was using Jaq to tease herself, get her heart pounding. She would have felt bad about it if not for the fact she was sure Jaq was doing the same thing. And when Isolde left her and went home, when she was having a bit of quality alone time with herself and her icicle toys, she could feel guilt-free knowing Jaq was off to do the same the moment she broke free.

“Well, then that explains it. Really, Jaq, I expected you to wise up, increase your skills, lay a trap for me. Not let yourself get caught.”

“Maybe you walked right into my trap and didn’t even know it,” said Jaq, leaning farther forward still, as far as her bonds let her go. Her face was inches from Isolde, and those eyes…Isolde tightened the ice chains, darkened the sky with clouds in warning.

“I very much doubt it. You’re desperate for one thing,” said Isolde, “and I’ve never seen you use any sort of cunning to get it.”

“And I’ve never seen you so eager to allow anyone threatening your kingdom to have their magic on you for any length of time,” said Jaq, eyes flicking to Isolde’s dress, beneath which the frost still wound up her legs and melted away. “You must really be enjoying this encounter.”

“That’s your plan, then? Get yourself tied up, have your wind blow open your top just enough, and see if I’ll go for the bait?”

“Why, Highness, I thought you wouldn’t have noticed,” said Jaq.

Isolde scowled. She’d been trying so hard to not be drawn into looking at the gentle curve of Jaq’s small breasts, of the glimpses of hard n****e revealed with each strong gust of wind. “Your tricks are all overused.”

“Why change what works?” asked Jaq, and Isolde felt the tip of a frost frond just graze the bottom of her ass. She breathed in, distracted, as Jaq twisted and stroked the air with her fingertips. “Why when you stay to see what I’ll do next?”

A trickle of warm wetness ran down the back of Isolde’s neck, followed by several strands of hair. Before she could react, the hair she had twisted up out of her way cascaded down around her face and neck as the icicle melted. Water dribbled down her back. A shiver tensed her shoulders briefly, and Isolde surged forward before she registered what she was doing. With both hands, she pulled Jaq’s face to hers and kissed the woman full on the lips.

Jaq did not pull away, did very little in fact but tilt her head into Isolde’s hands and part her lips. Isolde realized too late what was happening, and when she pulled away and their breaths snaked steamily into the air between them, Jaq looked triumphant.

“That got you to shut up,” said Isolde, trying to sound in control, like she’d meant all along to kiss Jaq. She remembered to reinforce the ice chains, well melted now, though Jaq hadn’t tried to break free. She still couldn’t look Jaq in the eyes, and she was growing less certain about her ability to just turn and leave. Maybe she was enjoying herself a bit too much.

She allowed herself a look at Jaq’s skin under the flapping of the vest. Her n*****s were clearly hard, excited; Isolde couldn’t help but think about the chill wind teasing them, about her thumbs circling and warming them. When she looked up at Jaq again, the woman was grinning.

“I’ll start talking again if you don’t get your mouth back here.” Jaq strained forward, wriggling her fingers so the wind turned, blew Isolde’s hair about frenziedly.

“I don’t take orders.” Isolde pulled her scraggly hair back with a hand.

“You take them from me,” said Jaq, cocky as ever.

Isolde wanted to be more annoyed with that, but as she stood there, wind whipping her hair, frost snaking up her legs, she knew that was one of the reasons she was drawn to Jaq. Jaq had never been intimidated by Isolde’s power—no, she wanted to match it. Jaq had always intended to be an equal.

And that was hot as the burn of ice.

Still, Isolde lingered as though hesitating. She didn’t want to go too eagerly to Jaq. She was in control, no one else, and what she decided to do to handle an incident in her kingdom was entirely up to her, and her alone. She returned Jaq’s smug smile.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, Jaq. When have I ever taken an order from you?”

“When you realized you want to see if you can turn your lips purple.”

The thought had crossed Isolde’s mind, the cool blue of Jaq’s mouth on her own commanding red one. What such a union would produce…they were both already hot enough to melt ice.

“Hmm,” said Isolde, touching the bottom of Jaq’s lip with a finger. “Should I take that to mean you’re offering a trade instead of feeling the full weight of my wrath?”

“You should take it to mean I’m telling you to kiss me,” said Jaq, taking the fingertip between her lips and circling it with her tongue. “If you like it, you might consider releasing me. My hands work magic, you know.”

Isolde pulled her hand back, chill desire running down her spine to between her dripping legs. She finally dared to look Jaq in the eyes, those stormy eyes, and let herself be pulled in by them. As she moved forward to press her lips on Jaq’s again, she made a gentle motion with her hand, releasing her hold on the ice restraining Jaq. This time Jaq engaged, kissing back, tongue striving to meet Isolde’s.

Jaq tasted like the cool burn of peppermint, fiery in its intensity, bold as winter. Isolde could not get enough; she ran her hands through Jaq’s spiky blue hair, pulling Jaq to her. Jaq twisted against her icy bonds and pressed herself against Isolde’s chest; the moment her wrists slipped free from the ice restraints, she tangled her hands in Isolde’s hair. Droplets from Jaq’s wrists dripped onto Isolde’s shoulders and she shuddered, pulling Jaq closer as though to claim her warmth.

Isolde freed a hand to wave forth a bubble of ice, encasing them in a small space that would warm quickly. Jaq pulled back entirely when she noticed, a flick of her hand sending whorls of frost climbing over the outside of the ice bubble, blocking them from view, should anyone be foolish enough to follow Isolde out to a confrontation.

“Mine will hold,” said Jaq. “Yours?”

“Please,” said Isolde, gathering all the snow and ice under the dome to her, then sending it outward to rim the bubble. Underneath lay cushions of old grass. As Jaq raised an eyebrow at them, Isolde moved forward to slide her vest off, let it drop to the ground. Jaq turned a mischievous grin on Isolde.

“Why, Highness, I thought you were here to send me away.”

“That’s what I’m doing,” said Isolde, kissing Jaq again. Her hands ran up Jaq’s sides, feeling the soft skin beneath her palms. Isolde’s heart raced; this was as far as she and Jaq had gotten before she’d stopped them months ago and Jaq had stormed off. Isolde let her hands drop and took a step back.

“It doesn’t seem to be very effective,” said Jaq, then she reached forward and took Isolde’s hands. Isolde let them be pulled back to Jaq’s body. “But I’m not going to resist whatever the queen has in mind for me.”

“You resist everything,” said Isolde, but she began to enjoy Jaq’s body again.

Jaq tilted her head back slightly, eyes half closed, before reacting to Isolde’s words. “Careful,” she said. “You insult me too much and we’ll be back to fighting.”

Isolde leaned forward, kissed Jaq again, then whispered into her ear, “You never could have won.”

“Someday I’m going to prove you wrong, Highness.”

The words were spoken seriously, like a promise. Isolde blinked, but Jaq’s mouth had descended to her neck and those cool blue lips kissed their way down to her clavicle. She pulled Jaq closer, clutching the feel of the woman to herself. The air around them was already warming, trapped in her ice bubble, which she’d spelled to withstand the heat. Jaq’s frost no longer curled up around her legs and Isolde wondered when it had stopped.

“You have someone lace you into these things?” asked Jaq, her hands playing with the ties in back of Isolde’s dress.

“I hope you’re good at it, because you’ll be getting me back into it when we’re through here,” said Isolde, running her hands down to Jaq’s tight pants. She could barely even get her fingers between the leather and Jaq’s skin, and right now all she wanted to do was feel herself against Jaq’s skin. How hot they would be, nestled together under a dome of ice and winter. How good it would feel, to have contact with another person, to have that person be Jaq…

“Knew I was good with puzzles for a reason,” said Jaq.

Isolde felt her dress loosen, closed her eyes as Jaq slipped it off. Standing bared before Jaq made her suddenly self-conscious, and Isolde didn’t know whether she wanted to see the expression on Jaq’s face.

As though noticing her apprehension, she could hear Jaq pulling off her own tight clothes. When Jaq spoke, her voice was tinged with appreciation.

“Who would’ve thought you’d be completely naked under that dress?”

Isolde opened her eyes in time to see Jaq kick aside her pants.

“Why? It’s not like you’re wearing any underwear.”

“Ah, but I’m not you,” said Jaq, moving toward her. Her lips met Isolde’s again, her arms took hold of Isolde, wrapping her in warmth and strength, and the press of desire. Isolde found herself opening up, pressing back, annoyed with how difficult it was standing. Jaq ran a hand down the curves of her side to her hip, drew a finger over it down toward where Isolde’s desire burned.

Isolde pulled back, lowered herself down to the cushion of grass. It smelled sharp; she spread her legs, lifted a hand to her breast. Jaq stared, gray eyes large, as Isolde beckoned with her other hand, a motion similar to the one she had made earlier when they were fighting. But this would be a different kind of battle.

“Come,” she said, “Let’s see how you’ll serve your queen. Earn yourself your freedom to leave here.”

Jaq lowered herself over Isolde, lips hovering just above Isolde’s.

“And the land?” she asked.

“Don’t push your luck,” said Isolde, and pulled Jaq’s mouth to her own.

Isolde felt the urgency in Jaq’s kiss and guided the woman’s hands to her body, right where she wanted to be touched. Jaq responded immediately to the direction, running her palms over Isolde’s soft skin, squeezing her full breasts. Isolde gasped into Jaq’s mouth as Jaq straddled her thigh.

“Oh,” groaned Isolde as Jaq rubbed herself against Isolde’s thigh. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of Jaq’s touch all over her. Isolde felt wonderfully, deliciously vulnerable, and it thrilled her. She did not let herself get close to anyone for just that reason, how it caused her to let down her guards, show an opening. It was a weakness.

But something about Jaq made Isolde feel she could trust this woman. It was safe enough around Jaq, and Isolde relished that feeling, of opening herself up and not getting stabbed in the back for it. Jaq was making herself equally vulnerable, and that too was exciting.

Jaq’s hand slid lower, through the curls of Isolde’s hair between her legs. Jaq moved her other hand aside and fastened her lips around one of Isolde’s n*****s at the same time her fingers stroked along either side of Isolde’s hood. Gasping, Isolde clutched at the now-abandoned breast, her hips moving to Jaq’s motions.

“Mmm,” said Jaq, releasing the n****e and beginning to slowly kiss her way down Isolde’s body. “Turns out I can craft an amazing wearable ice c**k—”

“Another time,” breathed Isolde, pressing Jaq’s face down farther. Jaq willingly descended between her legs, but not without her own form of protest. With her magic, she pulled at the snow heaped up at the edges of the dome, and within moments Isolde felt the chill of frost curls emanating from Jaq’s fingertips. They wound over Isolde’s thighs, lingering wherever Jaq touched, melting away after several seconds. Isolde arched her back, trying to bring her aching clit closer to Jaq’s lips. Isolde remembered the way Jaq had taken her fingertip into her mouth and strove not to shudder too hard at the thought.

“Careful what you promise me, Highness,” said Jaq, pressing a kiss in the mound of hair right above Isolde’s swollen clit. “You might regret it later.”

“Stop…talking,” hissed Isolde, glaring down at Jaq, who offered up one of her cocky smiles before descending.

Her mouth was as good as Isolde hoped, as she feared. She could easily get addicted to Jaq’s talents, to the way Jaq made her feel. With how busy Isolde normally was, she rarely spent much time on her own needs. It had been a while since she had come, and what Jaq was doing to her now…the warmth of her swirling, flicking tongue, the coolness of the frost fronds…Isolde’s mind shut off.

Jaq shifted and one of her hands vanished, although Isolde could not complain at this point. One, two—she felt too good to care. A moment later and she realized Jaq had shifted so she could touch herself, mouth still on Isolde. Isolde imagined Jaq’s icy fingertips between her legs, playing her fat clit like she played the air to make her frost magic. The thought of that was so delicious Isolde focused on it, twisting her own n****e hard as she came, squirming.

Jaq pressed down on Isolde’s thigh with her hand, determined to help Isolde ride out the sensations, but it was obviously difficult. Jaq puffed, her motions erratic, and Isolde realized she too was coming. She leaned up, pushing Jaq’s head aside with a hand, and continued circling her sensitive clit with a finger. Jaq’s hand moved to replace her head, and Isolde gasped as one icy-cold finger, then two, slid inside her, stroked pointedly the most sensitive inner parts of her.

Isolde had been holding back, but now she cried out, half-moan, half-scream. Jaq groaned, too, and slid her fingers out when Isolde retracted her hand, breathing heavily. Isolde leaned back against the grass, playing idly with a few strands of hair, eyes closed. Jaq wasn’t going anywhere, not while her bubble stood.

“What do you know,” said Jaq, moving to lay down next to Isolde. She stretched out a hand that smelled like Isolde and stroked her once-red bottom lip with a finger. “Guess it does turn purple.”

“s**t,” grumbled Isolde, though not very angry. “I’ll have to fix that before I go back to the castle.” She tried not to be distracted by the smell of herself on Jaq, by how it made her want to try out that ice c**k right now. Jaq’s lips pressed against Isolde’s and she was so overwhelmed with the desire to spend all day in this bubble with Jaq that she pushed her aside and sat up.

Jaq sat up, too, watching as Isolde crossed to grab their clothes.

“I would have thought you were into cuddling,” she said.

Isolde threw her leather pants at her. “You need any help gluing on your clothes?” she asked, words a bit harsher than she intended. Isolde was irritated now, for no reason she could pinpoint, but she knew it had to do with Jaq. That she had allowed herself to take any pleasure with Jaq, maybe, or that she was hoping this wouldn’t be the only time.

“No, but you need help,” said Jaq, surprisingly non-confrontational.

Isolde was irritated with that, too. She struggled into her dress, shrugging off Jaq’s helpful hands. “I can manage,” she snapped, but Jaq merely dodged her shoves and popped around to her back, hands lacing up what Isolde could not reach.

“You’re not supposed to be grumpy after s*x,” said Jaq, as though pointing out something obvious. She backed away, shrugging into her vest. “Unless it’s because you lost all this land to me…”

“I absolutely did not,” said Isolde, glaring at Jaq as she pulled on her pants. “You will return to your territory, removing your frost magic as you go.”

“I don’t know, Highness, I don’t think I was the one who lost here.”

“If you care to continue fighting me,” began Isolde, but Jaq held up her hands, cocky smile back on her face. Isolde noticed her lips were purplish now instead of blue, and could not keep herself from blushing when she thought about what she looked like elsewhere. Fearing Jaq would notice, she instead brought down the ice bubble, letting in a rush of freezing air and toppling frost fronds over them.

“No, no,” said Jaq, brushing frost off her hair, though Isolde thought her blue spikes looked good tipped in white. “As much as I’ve enjoyed our fight, let’s finish it another time. Are you free Thursday afternoon? There’s a juicy piece of island on a lake on the southwest edge of your kingdom that I think I’ll be taking then.”

Isolde crossed her arms and glared.

“See you then,” said Jaq, grinning, and walked off into the frost-covered grasses.

Isolde watched her go, making sure she removed her frost magic, trying not to think and failing. It should have been obvious from the moment Isolde had set eyes on her that nothing would be easy with Jaq.

Still, she would probably show up on Thursday. She had to look out for her kingdom, after all.