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All that Marian was had drained away like water. She has guessed that much, there amid the gentle waves of Lorelia’s attention. The Rain Disciples waver at times, caught beneath the flow.
Marian does not. And when she rests a hand on Lorelia’s shoulder, feeling the Nereid’s body shifting beneath her, a portion of water given the form of a lovely woman, she finds one thought drifts atop her mind.
“Were we lovers?” She knows the memories have drifted away. That she gave them up for the sake of the lake. Such Lorelia has told her, and thus it must be true.
The lake ripples. Lorelia smiles. “I could never say no to you.”
Marian shivers. Surely just the cold of the lake.
Lorelia leans in to kiss her. At first it feels like drowning, like holding a ball of water in her mouth and not daring to swallow. Fingers run through her hair and leave it damp; her breath catches.
Marian knows nothing save that Lorelia was there when she first awoke, unsure, lost entirely to herself. Who else was there to trust?
She leans into the kiss and lets Lorelia wash her clothes away, a torrent, a flood, and almost something stirs. A fear, a—
The water flows around her, molds itself around her body, a mirror of hair and mouth and breasts. Hands move between her legs, stretching out in a form no mortal flesh could muster.
Perfectly formed against her, a cool pressure that builds and builds and builds.
Marian nearly drowns in the kiss. Her legs try to thrash, to push the pressure to one distinct point, so that it does not overtake her.
She tastes salt from her own tears. Breathes. And clenches her legs tight around Lorelia’s hand.
Then, the water, the silence.