by M. D. Grimm
Hearing the tune and seeing the patrons dance made me remember a promise I made myself then. I stood up and held out my hand. He looked at me, puzzled. “Care to dance?”
His eyes lit up and his grin was huge. He sprang to his feet and took my hand. We’d never danced together as adults, and I wanted to change that. Now.
We both knew the steps and he wasn’t a short, clumsy youth, anymore. Where before this dance made us laugh, our steps awkward and foolish, now they were precise and smooth. He was the right height to twirl me under his arm, and we no longer collided or tripped each other. My eyes constantly searched for his, my hands eager to meet his again, to continue the dance, to follow the rhythm. I knew he felt the same.
The dance went on and on, one tune flowing smoothly into the next, each a common dance, known to most. We kept dancing, kept moving, kept connecting. I eventually wanted more, my body straining to mold itself to him. Then the music stopped and everyone clapped. I didn’t hear it, I only heard the blood rushing through my veins. I grabbed his hand and pulled him with me. He didn’t need much convincing. He was right on my heels as we ran up the stairs and to our room. I never had that sort of foreplay before, and I greatly enjoyed it.
The door slammed shut and I found myself pressed against it. Aishe devoured my mouth and yanked at my jacket. I tugged his tunic, slipping my hands underneath to feel his warm skin, his tight muscles. He moaned and did the same, sliding his rough hands over my chest and torso, then my sides. I shoved the jacket off and started unlacing my trousers. He rubbed one of his hands against the bulge between my legs. I pushed against him, finally shoving down my trousers. He fell to his knees and slipped me all the way into his mouth. A low groan escaped me, and I gripped his hair, rubbing his head. His mouth and hands went to work, pushing me toward the edge but not allowing me to complete. When he came up for air, he pulled back and took care of his clothes. I yanked off my trousers and boots and dove for his bag, easily finding the lube, courtesy of Earth. I always brought back souvenirs. There just wasn’t anything that compared on Karishian, though I’d managed to duplicate my own concoction for us when we ran out.
Aishe attacked me from behind and sent us falling over the bed. Held down by his body, I could only surrender. He slid his tongue over my skin, traced my scars, and kneaded my ass. I lifted my ass, rubbing it against his groin, feeling him shudder.
“You are so brave,” he said as he grabbed the lube and popped open the bottle.
I panted, muscles drawn tight under his caress. “What?”
“You showed those mages how brave you are.”
Aishe lifted partly off my body and I was cold. I wanted him back! Then he probed me with lubed fingers, and I flashed hot, my magick churning near the surface. I gripped the blankets and spread my legs farther.
“You stood before them, told them who you are, and that you wouldn’t play by their games.”
He pushed two fingers into me, stretching, rubbing. I trembled, lifting my ass for more. His words made me harder.
“You’re so strong, my love, to expose yourself like that. To tell them about your past, and then to use it. To use Elorn’s own argument against him.”
Three of his fingers were now inside me, rotating, scissoring. I reached underneath myself and stroked, needing some relief.
“Aishe.” My voice held a plea.
He bent over me, his lips against my ear. “I love you, Morgorth. I don’t love a monster.”
He pulled his fingers out, then pushed his lubed cock inside me. I gasped in relief. He pounded me hard, hard enough to cause the bed to squeak. I pushed my face into the mattress as he gripped my hips and took what he wanted. My cries grew louder as he stood behind me and, with better leverage, forced me to take the entirety of him. The pleasure just kept building, and I wondered how long he could go. I was already dripping, so near completion but the force of his thrusts prevented me from grabbing my cock and finishing myself off.
Then he shifted his angle and hit that special spot inside me. My body tightened and it only took two dead-on thrusts for me to finally come. I shuddered and panted and felt Aishe come, his body trembling as did mine. I realized he’d been waiting for me to come first. Yeah, I got a winner.
He collapsed on top of me and I grunted. I closed my eyes, focusing on our warm, sticky bodies. I really didn’t need anything else in my life. Just this. Just this right here.
Power and world domination would never compare to what I had with Aishe right here.
***
We lay in bed, neither of us sleepy but both unwilling to get up. Aishe lay with his head on my shoulder, my arm around him, and my hand held in his. We hadn’t spoken for a long time. It wasn’t needed. Tomorrow he would give his testimony. Tomorrow I would send him home.
“Morgorth?”
“Hmm?”
“When you were recounting your experience at Zentha and briefly discussed your father, I thought of something. Something I’ve wondered about before.”
“What?”
“Do you remember when Drasyln attacked my tribe and you managed to defeat her by freezing her?”
I tightened my hold on him as memory flared up. “I will never forget,” I growled. I cleared my throat and evened out my voice. “And I didn’t really freeze her. I froze her time. She was still moving, only very, very slowly. To her the rest of us were moving like blurs, speeding this way and that. What about it?”
He tilted his head to look at my face. “It worked well and she was captured. Why did you not do the same with Elorn or your father?”
I glanced at him before looking away. “I’ve tried to duplicate that spell since discovering it. It never works right.”
He sat up slightly. “What do you mean?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I have to be in a certain frame of mind to do it. I focus, I say the word, I use my hands, and nothing happens. I can’t use a spell I doubt will work. Then it certainly won’t work. A mage must have complete confidence and belief in magick, or it will backfire. That’s why I didn’t use it with Elorn. And with my father, well, he had Ellegrech. I’m sure the major stone would have deflected it.”
“Maybe you should speak with Master Ulezander about it.”
I pulled him back down where he belonged, and he settled against me again. “Maybe, if I feel it necessary. None of my other spells have acted that way. It could be a fluke. Or it could be I just didn’t need it at those times.”
I didn’t say what I was really thinking. Motivation and need counted during spells. I’d discovered the time spell when Drasyln was about to kill Aishe. He’d been a young, untrained youth with a sword, defending his father’s fallen body. He was wounded and wouldn’t have stood a breath of a chance against her. I was severely injured but the thought of losing him had unlocked something inside me. I’d created a new spell and won the day.
It was different with Elorn and my father since Aishe was capable of defending himself. He’d been in danger but not the kind without hope of him coming out triumphant. That was the only thing I could think of being the reason behind the faulty spell.
Night fell swiftly and Aishe fell asleep before I did. I shifted and sat up beside him. Taking a deep breath, I took the amethyst pendant hanging around his neck into my hand, enclosing it in my fist. I spoke softly. A bright blue light shone between my fingers for a moment, and I feared it would wake him. It didn’t. The light dimmed, and I let go of the pendant. It didn’t look any different.
Lying next to him, I drew him into my arms. He snuggled closer, still fast asleep. I brushed my hand over his hair and kissed his temple.
“Maybe one day you’ll forgive me.”
Chapter Six
Aishe
I woke up alone.
I moaned, stretched. The rest of the bed was cold, indicating Morgorth had been up and gone some time ago. Grumbling, I washed my face in the basin on the table by the bed before dressing. Combing my fingers through my hair, I tamed it
before walking out of our room and shutting the door. Hungry, I strode down the hallway intent on breakfast when a large figure came up the steps leading down to the common room, blocking my way. I stopped short.
I knew him. I knew those cruel eyes and dark mane of hair, the beard that didn’t hide a thin, malicious mouth. He’d been at the inquiry yesterday. I’d first met him, though, in Vorgoroth, when he’d come with another mage, sent to harass and insult Morgorth.
“Dyrc.” I glared, clenching my hands into fists. “How dare you show your face here.”
Dyrc stood at the top of the stairs, his arms loose at his sides. I could see the tension in his stance despite his blank expression. His lavender robes with their seven gold rings staked vertically, one on top of the other, proclaimed him an enforcer of the Council of Mages. He was their attack dog.
Morgorth believed he worked specifically for Elorn. I didn’t disagree.
“Good morning, Aishe,” he said. His mouth twisted slightly over my name, as if it tasted disgusting in his mouth. “I wish for a private conversation with you. I insist on it.”
“Insist all you want. We have nothing to discuss.” I took a small step back, not in retreat, but necessity. I wanted distance between us. I didn’t think he was bold enough to unleash magick, but he was a brute with a temper. He was sent for some purpose and it couldn’t be anything good. He wanted to ruin the inquiry, to destroy Morgorth.
“Calm yourself, dialen,” he said with bite. “A little common courtesy would do you no wrong. Although, considering who you are mated with, perhaps that is a little beyond you.”
I straightened and lifted my chin, meeting his gaze without flinching, stopping my backward movement. I wouldn’t give the demon spawn the satisfaction of knowing how much I was afraid. Despite the fact I wore an enchanted tunic that protected me from magickal and non-magickal weapons, it wasn’t infallible. The tunic could be worn down if attacked long enough. I didn’t have my weapons with me, assuming I was safe at least in the inn. I cursed myself a fool.
“Say your piece, mage. Then leave.”
He scowled. He audibly swallowed and appeared to struggle to rein in his temper. “You give your testimony today, dialen. You get spelled today.”
My gut tightened. Outwardly, I showed nothing.
“You’ll be forced to tell the truth,” Dyrc said. Then he did something odd: he folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned against the wall, appearing at ease. I wasn’t fooled. The fact he was trying to keep the conversation casual made me more wary.
“The council will ask you questions and you’ll be forced to answer. You can’t lie, you can’t think. All you can do is follow commands. They can ask you anything and you have to answer. Just like that. Whatever secrets you hide, or want to hide, they’ll be laid bare. Exposed. Think about it.”
I didn’t want to listen to him. But I did think. My gut tightened further.
“Are you sure about what you saw during that duel, dialen?” Dyrc said with a leer. “Are you sure all your answers will help Morgorth? How do you know your very answers won’t condemn the dark mage? How do you know you won’t be sending your lover to the executioner?”
“The only wrongs done that day were by Elder Elorn,” I said, quietly.
Dyrc smirked. “You don’t sound convinced. They might ask about other things, too. They might ask about Morgorth’s past. Everything you know about him will no longer be a secret. The council can ask anything they want.”
Cold spread through me. Was that true? Was Dyrc lying to me? I didn’t know. Sometimes the truth was scarier than a lie.
“The inquiry is about the duel,” I said, raising my voice. “Only about the duel.”
“Wrong.” Dyrc pushed away from the wall before he pounced, slamming me against the opposite wall. His hands gripped my upper arms. How had he moved so fast? I kicked out, using techniques I’d learned as a lad. Then Dyrc grabbed my hair and yanked a couple of strands out.
I froze.
He was smiling now. It was feral. “The dark mage has taught you too much about us. He’s shared too much and revealed too many secrets. Always the rebel, always troublesome.”
He held the strands of my thin, white hair in front of my face. I knew my face showed only horror. I tried to find my mask and failed. I knew what a mage could do with only a single strand of hair. I had no way to protect myself against it, and the tunic was useless against such invasive magick.
Morgorth, where are you?
“For your information, this inquiry is about so much more than a damn duel. This is about the council, our future. This is about Morgorth. This is about cleaning up a mess that has been allowed to spread like a disease, infecting the world. You’re just another pawn, another game piece to be moved.”
I felt his hand against my back and I struggled. He pressed his palm to my forehead. I gasped as pain radiated through my head. For an instant, there was only blinding agony.
Then black.
***
I staggered down the stairs to the common room. I must have slept horribly to have such a headache. I frowned and rubbed my eyes. When I’d woken up I didn’t have a headache. It sprang up between my walking out of the bedroom to descending the stairs. Sighing, I grabbed a leaf from the pouch attached to my belt and chewed it, wincing at the taste. It should dispel the pain. I needed to be sharp today. A spell was going to be cast on me today. My stomach churned and I rubbed it. I was slightly queasy and hungry at the same time, and I wondered if I should dare eat anything.
Looking around the nearly empty common room, I easily spotted Morgorth. He wasn’t alone. My muscles tensed when I saw Suvar speaking to him, leaning too close to him. I scowled, hackles rising. I wanted my bow. I wanted an arrow jutting out of his eye socket. I strode purposefully forward, my headache still pounding. Morgorth caught my eye and his own widened slightly. He spoke curtly to Suvar, who turned and noticed me. Giving me a secretive smirk, Suvar turned and left, strutting across the room and out the door.
I stomped right up to Morgorth and gave him a look that demanded answers.
He looked amused. Damn him! “I’m using him. I’m stringing him along. No more, no less. Don’t look so murderous.”
I rubbed my temples and sat. Some of my discomfort must have shown on my face because Morgorth’s amusement instantly fled. “What’s wrong?” He touched my shoulder, then laid the back of his hand against my forehead. “You’re warm.”
“My head,” I said softly. I closed my eyes. The throbbing was getting worse. “I woke up fine but now.... I ate a lecher leaf but it isn’t working.”
Without warning, I was in Morgorth’s arms. He carried me back upstairs. The light was too bright. I pressed my face into his shoulder, wanting darkness, wanting the pain to go away. I must have fainted because when I opened my eyes, I was lying on the bed. Light streamed through the window and I hissed, covering my eyes.
“Too bright,” I said.
He closed the curtains and snuffed out the single burning candle. I blinked. The semi-darkness was still too bright.
“What’s wrong with me? This has never happened before.”
He sat on the side of the bed, watching me, his eyes sharp and assessing. What did he know that I didn’t? I could read him better than anyone. He knew something.
“What happened when you woke up?” he asked.
“Why does that—”
“Answer.”
The command made me scowl. “I woke up. Washed my face. Dressed. Walked out of the room and....” My memory skittered. I swallowed hard as a fresh burst of pain radiated through my mind. “I walked down the stairs and—”
“Wait. Back up. Do you remember walking down the hallway? From the room to the stairs?”
“What does it matter?”
“Answer!”
I flinched. “Hunter’s Bow, I don’t know! No, I don’t remember. I just—” Another skittering memory. Another burst of pain. I whimpered and gripped my head.
<
br /> Morgorth covered my hands with his own. His eyes glowed amber and his skin shone white, indicating his magick was near the surface. “Take a breath, baby. Deep breaths. This isn’t natural, I guarantee that. Try to remember again, love. Just one more time.”
“Remember what? There’s nothing to remember!” Even as I said it, my mind tried to remember. Memory skittered and I knew the pain would be next. I tried to steel myself against it, but the pain didn’t come. Morgorth’s hold tightened, and I felt the warmth of his magick slide over me. Into me. The pain vanished.
I remembered. It was all there. Everything Dyrc said. Everything he’d done. I gasped, stunned. He’d cast a spell on me! Using my hair, he’d cast a spell on my mind. Morgorth released me. I opened my eyes as he leaned back, the glow still in his eyes and skin. His hand burned where it lay on my chest but I didn’t ask him to remove it.
“Who did this to you?” His voice turned deadly soft.
I took a deep breath. “Dyrc.”
His hand on my chest fisted. “Tell me everything.”
I did. After my telling, I sat up, and he continued to stare at me. Then he began to grope me.
“What are you doing?”
“Hold still.” His voice became curt and cold.
I did as he commanded. He was methodical about it and it was uncomfortable. He crushed my tunic under his fists, he pressed his fingers into my skin. He worked his way down my body and then he yanked off my boots. He upended them and shook. From my right boot there fell a small object, not much bigger than a sliver of wood. It was light and transparent. A crystal. It had my white hairs wrapped around it.