Oh, Chen. Poor, sweet, innocent little Chen. The flash of those eyes is enough, isn’t it, for the Princess to suddenly understand that she has made a dreadful, delightful mistake. Maybe she could sputter and try to play it off as being intentional, but look at that blush! Rose from the River can feel the girl’s red cheek through the scarf, it’s so warm.

“Why, Your Majesty,” Rose purrs, draping the scarf around Chen in loose curls, suddenly and wickedly servile, “when asked so [i]forcefully,[/i] how can your humble servant refuse? I shall return it to you at once, O Most Imperious Excellence!”

The strike, sudden and sure, is hidden by the scarf passing over Chen’s face. The river-washed fabric is pushed between those soft lips by two insistent fingers, getting it well-packed in her cheeks, making sure it’s pressing down her wagging tongue comfortably. Once satisfied that the Princess’s complaints (or are they rapturous thanks? with that expression, it might be difficult to tell) are appropriately (but not oppressively) muffled, Rose drags her fingers out of Chen’s mouth and wipes them off on the dark-haired girl’s bottom lip: front, back, front again. This done, she pats Chen’s comfortably filled cheek like one might indulgently show affection to a precocious child.

“There, a gift from me to you. [i]Do[/i] try to hold onto it better than you held onto your sword, Chen of the Twin Shards.” She stops, leans in, cupping Chen’s face as she pretends to listen. “Oh, I assumed that you wouldn’t need help, but I suppose a girl your age needs accommodations from her elders now and then.”

The scarf is pulled firmly over Chen’s lips, pressed up on one side against the bottom of her nose ticklishly and cupped beneath her chin on the other as Rose knots it well behind the Princess’s hair. Of course, there’s quite a bit of scarf left, but rather than wrap it around and around Chen’s head until there’s nothing left poking out, not nose or lashes or hair, she slips either end around and around Chen: under her armpits, around her adorable tummy, and between her bound ankles. There’s just enough left over to secure the ends to the staff-form of the Conciliatory Ice-Star Blade.

So little Chen has gotten away easy in one sense, for Rose from the River has not covered that precious scarf with others, smelling of small pink flowers, to muffle her until she can make no more squeak than a mouse; but instead, she finds herself lifted into the air like a bindle as Rose from the River effortlessly hoists the staff onto her shoulder, one hand cupping its butt (and not Chen’s) to serve as counterbalance. The scarf digs in an unavoidable amount, but it is fluffy and large and Rose knows the art of suspension well enough to distribute her weight. (And, having only so much scarf and so much acquaintance, pointedly did not pull that scarf between Chen’s thighs.)

Imagine if anyone happened upon them now! Here Chen sways, a caught little trophy, gagged with her most beloved scarf and suspended from a traveler’s walking-stick by the very same, unable completely to hide herself in those strong arms! She is like a mountain-goat caught by the Sourcefall shepherds, except for the fact that she is, blessedly, right side up. She has all the time in the world to stop and admire the landscape while Rose moves with at a surprisingly steady clip down the road. That is, if she can avoid daydreams of her peers laughing at her and playfully swatting her unprotected rump as Rose from the River dangles her like a toy before them. Or of Rose walking through a Terrace-town with Chen swaying behind her, stared at by dumbstruck peasants, the tale of her defeat at the hands of a simple monk sure to spread! And, oh, what[i]ever[/i] would Princess Qiu think?

But even as Rose continues on her way, a prickling knot twists inside of her. She did not need to feel such savage delight in battle; she could not keep herself composed, a weapon in the hands of a mighty yet subtle wind. She burst off her leash like an overexcited wolfhound, and left herself blind to the quiet signs and tugs of the Way. Even now it is difficult for her to focus on divining on which way her many-chambered heart is being led; her thoughts drift ever back to the Princess on her shoulder. That look as the gag was pulled tight! That look as she buried herself in Rose’s arms! Maybe she should stop and check on the Princess, tease her more (was it enough for the surrender offered?). Maybe she should... no. She has to shut her ears to the symphonies without so she can hear the faint melody of truth within. She is not allowed to tarry longer and seduce the pretty young thing until her head spins and her chest bounces and she begs wordlessly for kisses and more than kisses.

She is not allowed, because the knowledge that she would be trading personal pleasure for what is best for [i]everyone[/i] hangs around her neck like a yoke. And like an ox in the field, Rose from the River obediently follows the switch on her flank and the tug on her ring, not looking back at the delicious meal just over her shoulder.

It has to be enough to know that she has made Princess Chen happy.

[Rose from the River feels [b]Guilty[/b] about her indulgence, and takes -1 to Emotional Support until it is resolved, such as by sacrificing something important just to hurt herself, or by Emotional Support. She currently has 1 XP (because she does not miss rolls) and 1 String on Chen.]