Bouquet, for Femslash Bingo 2016 by Urloth

20th July - I11 Wisteria: Welcoming. Thuringwethil/Luthien.

She was most definitely lied too. There is nothing here that speaks of dark or evil or death. Instead it is a cottage, quant and lovingly set into the roots of a giant oak. There is wisteria, framing the doorway, which is gently cracked open and the scent emerging is that of baking bread.

The woman who has come to the door is dressed in pale pastel blues and her hair is a fall of white-gold around a peach shaped face; plump cheeks, sharp chin, pretty blush. Her eyes are so blue. Lips a rose bud pink and the teeth behind white and small.

Luthien isn’t sure what to do. No matter how she spun this scenario in her head, needing the powers of the fiend her mother had not dared to cross, she had not envisioned this.

The air wrathe smiles at her, leaning her head against a drooping bow of wisteria, the purple lying across her hair, and reaches out one hand with dark nails glinting bright in the sunlight piercing the clearing her house lies within.

“Come in,” she murmurs and Luthien is stepping forward. The Wisteria is closing around her body and there are lips on hers.

A kiss to her throat. A chaise lounge covered in gold velvet and a warm sunny parlour with embroideries of lands Luthien has never seen but knows about. A vine twines up her leg and tightens around her thigh, pulling it over the back of the chaise. The blossoms slides down her skin as her dress falls to the sides of her when those dark nails slice down the front of it.