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Matching Day: Part 2

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Matching Day: Part 2
The struggle for honesty, and the grace to accept..

Based on a post by SmallTownPrincess, in 2 parts. Listen to the

Podcast at Connected.



"So, tell me about your family, Mason," Livia

said, tracing the lines of his palm with one finger. How long had they been out
there? Although it felt like she'd been with Mason for only a few minutes, at
most, she was deathly afraid that dawn would break soon, and they would have to
part ways, sneaking back into their respective beds.

"Oh, they're nothing special," he said with a

shrug. "My father's done pretty well for us with inter-community trade,
and my mother's a self-proclaimed busybody. I have two little sisters who must
hate me, for all the grief they cause me, and a cat that only eats because I
ask him to every day."

Livia sympathized with the cat; she would follow Mason to

the ends of the earth, if he asked her to and really meant it. She wouldn't
tell him that, though. He still believed that the answer to all their problems
was to run off into the wilderness and never look back.

"They must love you a lot, to plan a big wedding for

you - and build you a house! My father expected my match to do that with his
own two hands."

"Nah, they mostly just like being a spectacle in town,

and a big wedding's the best way to ensure that everyone's talking about you.
As for the house, I'd rather build it myself, honestly. I feel like a child
with them paving the way for me like this."

"I'll bet Salvia's bragging to everyone who'll listen

about her fairy-tale wedding and big stone house - at eighteen!"

Mason shrugged, looking stormy. "She keeps asking me

when we can have our first baby boy. A baby? I'm not ready for a baby. I
could go another decade before I would even think about having kids. I'll be
nineteen when we get married, for gods' sake."

"Nineteen?"

"I barely missed the cutoff for the last age group, so

I think I'm probably the oldest in ours."

A chill wind snuck down Livia's collar, and she shuddered,

enjoying Mason's immediate response of wrapping his arms around her and pulling
her back up against his chest. She could get used to being held that way. She
lay her head back against his shoulder, and he sighed happily.

"Mason?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you still intend to marry her?"

He shook his head, tousling her hair where his chin rested

on it. "That big house will be ours - yours and mine - or they can give it
to one of my sisters, for all I care. All I want is you."

The chuckling scream of an owl broke the silence of the

night, foreboding as the lustrous moon lay silver-lined shadows over the pair.
"What are we going to do, Mason?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you we going to do? I mean, you're

supposed to get married in a month, to Salvia, and I'm supposed to spend
the rest of my life unhappy and alone. People are going to notice if either of
those things don't happen."

"We could tell them that I prefer you to Salvia, "

Mason said doubtfully, and Livia didn't even bother to reply. That was clearly
not an option. "Or we could run, like I said originally."

"There's nowhere to run," Livia murmured.

"Then, I suppose, this is our only option."

"What is?"

"This. Meetings, like this."

"What, you mean you want to keep meeting me in secret

like this?"

"Sure, why not?"

"Won't someone in Salvia's house notice that you sneak

out every night?" Mason was living with Salvia's family until his own
house was built in Micrague, but, to Salvia's dismay, he was not taking
advantage of sleeping just down the hall from her.

"Probably not, and even if they do, I told them the

very first day I went home with her that sometimes I preferred to sleep
outside, under the stars." He chuckled. "They probably think I'm
quite odd, but it really is nice, sometimes, to just lay out here and look up
at them."

Livia snuggled closer to him and followed his eyes up to the

dancing points of light in the rich blue-violet night. "But then, what
happens next month, when your family send word for you to come home with
her?"

"Hmm, the guys from Micrague probably don't remember

what my match looked like, and you could answer to Salvia for the rest of your
life, "

"But the girls who matched those boys would know I

didn't match you. They'll definitely remember that I was the one who ended up
with no one to love but a dead boy I never met."

"Gods, Livia, I don't know," he said, sounding

frustrated. "What do you want me to say? That this can only go on until
I'm called home?"

"Can't it?"

"Maybe it'll have to stop when I'm called home,"

he said, then shook his head fiercely. "No. No, one way or another, I'm
going to marry you someday, Livia Russing."

Hearing her last name from his lips sent a jolt of reality

through her system. "I don't know your last name, Mason," she said,
eyes still fixed on the glittering treasure of the heavens.

"It's Griersley. Don't let that be the deciding point

against me when you're deciding whether or not you want to marry me," he
said with a grin.

"It's not bad."

"Is bad enough."

"But I still don't know you well enough to say that I

love you, Mr. Griersley," she said, grinning a little herself. "For
all I know, you could be an axe murderer."

"Well, you've been alone with me for hours now. Have

you seen any signs that I'm going to be a danger to you?"

She giggled, then settled into seriousness. "No, I

don't think you would hurt me."

He was still in a silly mood, grabbing her lightly around

the neck and cackling evilly. "Now I've got you, princess!" he said
in a nasal, grating voice. "You only thought I asked you here
because I'm falling for you. In fact, I'm a hideous villain, bent on killing
the loveliest and most brilliant girls in every community. You're my next
victim!"

Livia laughed, twisting to kiss him again. It felt more

natural every time their lips met; after hours of it, she felt like she'd been
born to kiss him.

Dawn bleached the horizon and made the trees stand like

motionless skeletons. Livia savored the taste of Mason's lips on hers as she
clambered back into bed, wishing her quilt-shrouded mattress was half as
comfortable as his arms.

With the promise of seeing him again that night, having him

all to herself for hours and hours, she could make it through another day. She
just wished night would come a little sooner.

There were moments, in the next few weeks, that made Livia

wonder if the gods were making up for tormenting her with Bracken's death by
saturating every moment with exhilarating euphoria.

Mason, his face glowing with the radiance of the simple joy

her presence brought him, danced with her in the moon's spotlight, humming a
song he made up on the spot, her twirling feet sending leaves spinning all
around them and making the breeze whirl and seethe with jealousy.

His teeth stood like pearly bits of star against his tan

skin as he laughed, dipping her low enough that her hair brushed the dirt forest
floor, then bringing her lightly back to her feet with an easy, undemanding
kiss.

Combing his fingers through her hair, he poured nonsense

pieces of poetry into the night, laughing occasionally at a particularly
horrible rhyme, calling for her to contribute as well. But she wouldn't
interrupt the uninhibited rhythm of his deep, pleasant voice; she let his words
roll pleasantly over her soul while his fingers did the same to her scalp.

Electricity lanced the night as their lips mimicked each

other's shape, and each of them drew life from the other's wholehearted ardor.

Livia whispered, "I do, after all."

"Do what?"

"Love you."

Mason wrapped around her, keeping her warm as her discarded

clothes could not. His lips were drawing a lazy line of kisses from her
forehead down her nose, over her lips and onto her neck. He sucked gently at
the spot where her neck ended and shoulder began, then dusted kisses across her
collarbones.

His hands ran lightly along her sides, fingers brushing her

skin from tits to hips and back again. She brushed her fingers through his
hair, tugged on it in a mute request for him to make his way back to her mouth
and kiss her as he had been for weeks, but his mouth was quite busy venturing
to previously unexplored territory.

Mason's lips pressed against her sternum, and the softness

just above her belly button, and then the softness just below. He shifted back
onto his heels so he could more easily massage his way down her thighs and to
her knees. Hungrily, he eyed her body.

"Mason?" She could barely manage the breath to

whisper his name. Something was making her chest tight, making it hard to bring
in air; she realized after a moment that it was fear. That was the thing with
Mason , he frightened her. Not because he would ever hurt her, but because he
looked at life and asked for more than he was given. He pushed boundaries.

His fingers were testing her boundaries now, working their

way back up the inside of her legs and finding the intersection of her legs. He
bent low, kissing her thigh just south of where his fingers rested, and his
breath was both hot and cold on her body. It made her suddenly aware of a
dampness there she did not recognize.

"Mason," she said again, more forcefully this

time, and his eyes met hers.

"Yes?"

She licked her lips, trembling as he continued to breathe on

her slick folds. "Are you planning to do what I think you're planning to
do?"

"Only if you want it," Mason replied. He stared up

at her for at least a minute before she realized she was meant to respond
positively or negatively, but she had no answer. How could she think with his
mouth practically pressed to her lips there? "Livia? Do you want to?"

"I, " She observed the tenderness with which he

was stroking her thigh, and melted a bit. "Yes. Please."

Mason grinned. He leaned in just a bit closer and touched

his lips to her, then slid his tongue between her folds, trailing it up to the
nub of her clitoris , she gasped and tried to keep from shuddering, not
wanting to break the contact , and then down until he circled her slit. His
eyes sought hers, looking for approval; he must have seen it in her face,
because he began to move his tongue in earnest, sliding it up and down, then
delving into her opening as deeply as he could.

Livia squeezed her eyes shut to concentrate on the feelings,

but the intensity gave her a sense of vertigo so intense she almost felt
herself sliding along the forest floor, as though the world had tipped off its
axis. She clutched at Mason's shoulders to steady herself, digging her nails in
harder than she realized.

As Mason's warm mouth moved against her most sensitive

places, she began to feel something completely new. It was a need she had never
experienced before, an urgent and desperate desire so foreign that she could
hardly guess how to fulfill it. She would have thought that Mason's current
activity would relieve it somehow, but it was only sharpening the edge on her
hunger.

"Mason, I need;” she started. She wasn't sure how

to finish. Mason stopped immediately, sensing her distress, sitting up and
wiping his mouth.

"What? What do you need?"

"I don't, know." She spoke quietly, distractedly.

When Mason sat up, he revealed the entirety of his nude form, and Livia found
her attention drawn to his sizable manhood, standing at attention. She stared,
beginning to get an idea of what it was she needed.

Picking up on her thoughts as though she was speaking them

aloud, Mason abandoned his eager, if inexperienced, efforts to please her with
his mouth and bent to press his body against hers again. He held himself just
far enough off her that his weight would not oppress her, but the full length
of his feverishly warm body covered hers, and the full length of his member
pressed against her mound, pulsing slightly with each heartbeat.

Slowly, painfully slowly, Mason slid his hips down, pulling

his cock down her body until the head rested just where her lower lips parted,
and then gravity and her own moisture pulled it the rest of the way. It came to
rest just where it belonged, against her opening.

"Is this what you want?" Mason asked. With his

mouth on her throat as it was, she felt more than heard his words.

She nodded, eyes closed. "Yes."

There was really no pain. Livia was surprised; she had heard

from other girls that it was quite unpleasant the first time, sometimes even
traumatic, but perhaps they had not had such tender first lovers, or perhaps
they had not been so achingly, drenchedly eager to have their lover inside
them. Livia hadn't even been aware of how badly she wanted Mason within her
until he was, and all her tension drained out of her with a long sigh.

"It's perfect," she said, marveling at the fit of

him in her. They were made for each other.

For many long minutes they were motionless, sharing each

other , they were no longer two people, but a single entity, joined
intimately.

"I'm yours, Livia." Mason's voice was husky, and Livia

saw that it was costing him something to remain still, not to just claim her
from the inside out; she saw also in the way he wrapped his arms tightly around
her and squeezed as if he would never let go that he was happy to remain frozen
in place and share the moment, happy even as he strained for more.

"And I'm yours. Take me, Mason."

And he did.

Eventually they fell asleep, still connected, and didn't

wake until larks' songs began to break the stillness of the air with the dawn.

Just when she thought nothing could be more perfect, more

beautiful, the gods realized their carelessness in letting too much rapture
concentrate in just two small hearts, and they began to set things back to
rights.

Livia picked her way through the now-familiar path from her

house to their meeting place in the trees, stepping lightly over fallen
branches and dodging snags and thorns with ease. She'd sat at her window all
afternoon, watching the sun in its path, wishing it haste as it progressed
toward the horizon. Her mother wondered what had gotten into her, but didn't
mourn the change. It had been painful to see her daughter in such misery after
Matching Day.

Just a little ways now, she thought cheerfully,

wanting to whistle but deciding that would be imprudent. The fear of what they
were doing didn't eat at her anymore, and she could almost forget, in the
flawless moments with Mason, that there was anything wrong in what they did.
When she saw Salvia, her face did not burn with blood, as it did at the
beginning, and she did not hunch her shoulders against imagined accusations as
she crossed the town now.

At the very moment it always seemed she had been walking too

far, that she must have passed the clearing completely and needed to turn
around, she saw Mason.

He was standing much as he had been the first night they'd

met here, his hands balled into fists in his pockets, his eyes on the sky,
standing in what she now recognized was his tensest stance, directly in the
center of the clearing. He was wholly illuminated by a moon that approached
full, and she could see the glistening tracks of tears on both cheeks, the
slightest quiver to his bottom lip. Pain spiked just beneath her breastbone as
she wondered distressedly what had upset him.

"Mason?" she called, tumbling out of the trees and

into his arms. He barely caught her as she tripped over the undergrowth,
landing ungracefully against his chest, and when she looked up into his face,
she had never seen such despair.

"You came," he said brokenly. "I hoped you

wouldn't."

"What?"

Rustling footsteps all around them told of the presence of

others, and Mason's hands tightened on her upper arms as if he could somehow
squeeze her out of sight.

Livia's head swiveled frantically from side to side as she

tried to see each face as they appeared, grimacing, out of the shadows; at the
front of them all, she saw Salvia's triumphant countenance.

And Mason's eyes never left hers, never stopped pleading

with her to forgive him for asking her to meet him the very first time. She had
the horrible, world-shaking, vomit-inducing thought that, perhaps, he had tired
of her and betrayed her. Her eyes begged his to assure her that this could
never be true, but there was too much self-condemnation in their greyness for
her to be sure.

"You have broken a match, you and Miss Livia Russing,

who was unmatched and took it upon herself to tear apart two compatible
souls"

"Livia did not take it upon herself," Mason

interjected. "I convinced her. I persuaded her to meet me
there."

"Regardless, she took part in the breaking."

"No, no, none of it was her fault. Aren't you listening

to me? She didn't intend to do anything wrong. If anyone deserves any sort of
punishment, it's me. I knew full well what the consequences would be if I were
caught, and I chose to do it anyway."

"Did you ever stop to consider your matched pair?

Salvia?"

"Salvia and I were never compatible. Never. You

must have made a mistake;”

"We do not make mistakes! We are the Matching

Council. We know what is best for the community, and it's self-important children
like you that sow dissension."

"You made at least one mistake, didn't you? Or

did you forget so easily that you left Livia without a match?"

"Her situation was unfortunate, but not the fault of

the Matching Council. If anyone should be blamed, it's the elders of Micrague
for allowing such a tragedy to happen on their ground."

"Unfortunate? Unfortunate? You condemned her to

a lifetime alone. And someone like Livia should never, ever be left alone.
Someone like Salvia, on the other hand, "

"Enough! Talking to this boy further serves no purpose.

He has already told us what we need to know. Tomorrow, he and the girl will
receive their twenty lashes."

"Wait, wait, you're not listening! Livia didn't do

anything wrong! Just by being caught, she's probably punished herself more than
you ever could. Please, please, by the gods, have some mercy! She
doesn't deserve any punishment!"

"Whether or not you feel she has done anything wrong,

the law

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