by D. L. Carter
Just a few hours ago she'd repeated a phrase that set him at a distance whenever he heard it; one that raised his ire more and more each day . . . not yet ready. When would she be ready and what could he do yet to speed the day?
She crossed the room to stand before him. For a moment, he thought she might complete the journey by coming into his arms. His body heated in anticipation, but she halted just out of reach.
“High Lord,” she said in deferential tones. “I fear I have overstepped my authority.”
“Have you?” Eioth tucked his hands into his sleeves rather than reach out to draw her closer. “Dare I hope this is something for which you must be punished? I have several ideas I am eager to apply.”
Halidan's eyes snapped open at his tone and words. She looked so shocked and horrified that Eioth could not hold in a laugh.
“Dear Halidan, how you move me to tease you. Come; confess your crime and I shall forgive you.”
“So easily?”
“I do not believe you could perform any action of which I would disapprove.”
Her uncertainty plain on her face, she recounted her argument with Tribel and its outcome. She was shocked when he roared with laughter to hear Tribel had fainted.
“Of your kindness, Halidan, if you do that, again, be certain that I am with you. Can I hope he has passed into a coma and will never awaken?”
“I haven't heard.” Halidan frowned at this lack of sympathy for the old Elf. She might not like Tribel, no; truthfully, she found she despised him, but a certain amount of sympathy had to be extended to the ill. Remembering how her father had been treated, cast out to die beside the road, Halidan felt that she could not treat anyone the same way. But, then, when Eioth came into the mortuary chapel he was everything that was kind. Eioth was always understanding and patient, which made it such a shock to see his behavior with Tribel.
“Well, let us go down and hear the latest gossip,” suggested Eioth.
He gestured for Halidan to precede him from the room. She went willingly enough. The true center of power within this building had been made clear to her today. Despite Tribel being unconscious, no one had answered her requests for food or drink and when she'd finally gotten the idea to go to the kitchen herself, she found all the service doors had been locked.
Eioth guided her through the House to the formal dining room. Once inside the room they halted; Halidan regarded the scene with resignation, Eioth enraged.
If needed, the dining hall could hold enough tables to seat five hundred people, but tonight there was only one table positioned in the exact center of the square room under the only functioning candelabra. At that one table was only one chair, one set of cutlery. The only servant waiting glanced between Halidan and Eioth before lowering his gaze to the floor.
After examining the scene, Eioth beckoned to the servant. “Have another setting fetched and chair found.”
Halidan could see the sweat forming on the servant's forehead and wondered what sin he'd committed that Tribel was punishing him this way.
“It is the policy of this House that no mortals reside beneath this roof,” murmured the servant. “Therefore, no food need be provided.”
“That's interesting,” said Halidan, “Tribel must have recovered to give these orders.”
Eioth nodded at her words, but his frown did not lift and he continued to scowl at the servant.
“I should not have to repeat myself. Fetch what I have ordered!” Eioth's voice was hard and sharp.
The servant closed his eyes and despite his tightly clenched jaw managed to get out the words, “Tribel has directed . . .”
“Now!”
The servant thrust his wine decanter into Halidan's hands and fled.
“It is only to be expected,” said Eioth, pulling the chair back. “Tribel is stubborn. He probably thinks if he ignores and doesn't feed you, you'll leave.”
“There is food enough for two,” said Halidan. “If you will permit me, I'll use a napkin as a plate and sit on the window ledge.”
There was a soft cough from the doorway. The servant was back, his face a study of misery.
“High Lord. Tribel says I am to remind you that mortals are not permitted beneath this roof.”
Eioth didn't even turn his head. “Go. Inform Tribel I shall be sending for him after supper to explain the many ways he has failed me today. Until then,” he continued as the door swung closed and he took Halidan by the hand. “Come, we shall share.”
Halidan yielded to his tugging expecting to stand beside the table. Instead he continued the pressure drawing her close and then down to sit on his lap. Halidan stiffened and struggled to rise. Eioth laughed and tightened his arms about her waist.
“No. I cannot. Let me up.”
“Halidan. We are fully dressed. There is no harm to this.”
Halidan braced both arms against his shoulders. “It is hardly proper for me to use the High Lord as a chair.”
“Believe me,” Eioth grinned up at her. “The High Lord is enjoying his role and is likely to see to it you never have a chair of your own, again.”
Halidan struggled to keep her balance and avoid spilling the wine. Eioth seized the decanter by the neck, pulled it from her hands, and set it on the floor.
“Neither of us needs wine, Halidan. Come. Be still. There is enough for two.” A wicked gleam came to his eyes. “I shall feed you and you shall feed me.”
“That is hardly necessary. I am fully capable of feeding myself.”
Eioth shook his head. “Capability is not the point. Consider it another new experience.”
Halidan rolled her eyes. “Again with the new experience. What shall you do when you find the end of new?”
“Go back to the beginning and start, again.” Eioth smiled. “I should like to begin with a piece of bread.”
“And I think you are fully capable of feeding yourself.”
Eioth shrugged and spread his fingers, sliding the tips under her sash to the skin of her waist, the slight movement sending heat coursing through Halidan's limbs. “I would,” he said, “but my hands are fully occupied at this moment.”
They sat thus for a few moments while Halidan glared down at him meeting his amusement filled eyes. The battle of wills was fully engaged, but to Halidan's mind, Eioth did not fight fair. While she tried to project indifference and a refusal to be so undignified at the dinner table, Eioth’s fingertips stroked her sensitive flanks, teasingly seeking her belly button, all the time holding her so she could not successfully escape. It was only when she noted that her shifting about on his lap was pleasing him rather than communicating her objections that she pressed down with her full weight and saw him wince.
Her satisfaction was temporary. As soon as she relented, he sighed and pulled her head down for a kiss.
“I knew we were well matched, you and I,” he said.
Halidan snorted.
“Come, then,” continued Eioth, “since this displeases you so much we should begin. Soonest started, soonest finished.”
With another snort, Halidan shifted, seeking the bread bowl, a movement that had Eioth's lips tightening as the curve of her buttocks slid across his arousal. If she did that too many times, he would ravish her on the floor. Halidan caught his strained expression and tried again to rise.
“I am hurting you,” she said.
“In ways you cannot imagine, but I beg you, do not stop.”
Halidan broke open a small bread roll that steamed as if just removed from the oven and dipped it into a mix of oil and herbs. She held it out to Eioth, but he grinned and opened his mouth like a baby bird waiting to be fed. As she placed it in his mouth, he scraped his teeth over her fingertips, then closed his lips over the morsel and chewed slowly.
“Thank you, Halidan,” he said, once it was gone. “Bread has never tasted as fine as when given to me by your hand.”
“Are you always so foolish?”
“Only when . . .” Eioth stopped. For an ins
tant he had wanted to answer, only when I am in love, except he had never experienced that emotion. Certainly he felt lust for Halidan and he appreciated her honor and mind, but love? No. For one thing it was not necessary. Their relationship did not require love. Respect, yes. Mutual contentment, certainly. Those would suffice. He curled his fingers at the back of Halidan's neck and tickled that sensitive, seldom touched corner of her flesh where hair ended and soft skin began watching her shiver. Watched the points of her breasts tighten and press against the fabric of her shirt. “Only when I desire more.”
Then he broke off a corner of bread, dipped it, and brushed the crust along the length of her lips, once, twice before holding it for her to nibble until it was gone.
So the meal progressed. Bite for bite they alternated while Halidan's spine softened until Eioth held her curled against his chest, her eyes half closed with the pleasure of being tended. His hands wandered, lightly outlining her curves, bringing her closer with each breath. Eventually he persuaded her to take a piece of meat from his mouth and lengthened the contact into a kiss that melted both their bones. When he'd recovered his breath, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
“For dessert,” he whispered, “fruit.”
Halidan lifted a slice from the bowl, dripping with juice. When she went to offer it to Eioth he held up his hand.
“No,” he said, his eyes shadowed and wicked. “Just the juice. The taste.” His tongue extended just enough to catch a drop. “Take it, Halidan and touch it to your skin.”
Her eyes widened in shock as heat flooded her body. Her hand trembled as she slowly raised the fruit and drew it across her lips. The soft touch sent shimmers of need through her body as she remembered Eioth’s previous kisses. Instead of accepting her invitation Eioth grinned.
“Too simple,” was all he said, then drew her down to lick and nibble at her lips until she was weak and gasping. Then he released her and waited.
Too simple? Her mind was fogged and she could think of little more than how much she hungered for another kiss. She'd not played this game before, nor had she read about it, and it didn't seem that Eioth wanted to explain. She was supposed to work it out herself. Hesitantly, she brushed the fruit over the corner of her jaw. His response was immediate. Again the lick and kiss. Dipping the fruit again, she traced the line of her neck and he followed eagerly. Amused as well as reveling in the heating of her blood she drew words across the skin of her chest. Eioth laughed, caught up in her whimsy.
“Persistent, am I. Lecherous too, I am pleased to see. Ah, and strong.”
He tipped her back in his arms, his eyes traveling to the fabric now tight across her breasts.
“More, Halidan. Guide me. Lead me. Where shall we travel next?” It took little effort for him to guide her hand back to the juice filled bowl. Once the slice was refreshed, he released her and waited. Her sigh brought his eyes back to her restrained breasts as she ran the fruit along the edge of the fabric of her shirt. His head descended and his heated mouth covered every inch ensuring not a single taste escaped him. With his nose, he nudged the shirt lower, his cheek resting on her chest waiting for the next pass. She did not disappoint. Back and forth they went. Halidan marking his path and Eioth following, each time revealing more of her breasts ‘til the full mounds were exposed to his gaze.
“Oh, Halidan, there is no sweeter fruit,” moaned Eioth before he claimed the budding nipple, drawing as much as he could of her into his mouth. The tip of his tongue lashed back and forth across her nipple until she moaned and writhed in his arms. His arms tightened around her even as his fingers pulled the fabric further down. No part of her breast escaped his tongue, his teeth. Halidan's fingers burrowed into his hair, clinging, trembling as she held him tight to her breast. His hands wandered down, slipping under her skirts to slide over thigh and hip.
“High Lord,” came a familiar shriek. “Stop. Stop now. Oh, nothing good comes from mortals in the House.”
“Damn him,” snarled Eioth, releasing Halidan's breast and turning so that her body was concealed by his.
Halidan stumbled off his lap, drawing her shirt up over her shoulders as Eioth turned to deal with Tribel.
“I said I would send for you,” snarled Eioth. “Your disobedience is beyond tolerance.”
Embarrassing, no, it was humiliating to be found half naked in the High Lord's arms. With her back to the door Halidan straightened her clothing with trembling hands, covering her breasts and pulling her sash tight around her waist. Heat shimmered under her skin from combined humiliation and lust. Once her clothing was settled she returned to sit at the dining table, still shivering. She considered cursing Tribel, but that would be wasted breath. Besides, she wasn't certain at this moment if she wasn't grateful for his arrival. A few moments longer and who knew how few pieces of clothing would have remained to her.
It was possible that Tribel had thought to establish his own authority coming in his own time instead of awaiting the High Lord's summons. Possible. But if that was his intention, it failed. Eioth was furious already with Tribel's intransigence, but his arrival just in time to interrupt a seduction had taken his actions beyond forgiveness.
Not that Tribel sought it. No sooner had he entered the chamber than he began listing the many sins of Halidan and her bodyguards: invasion of the sacred space of the High Lord's home, assault upon the person of the House manager, tainting the air.
Living while being mortal, it seemed, was a crime in Tribel's eyes.
Eioth tried twice to stem the flow of words, to no avail. Tribel was determined that every syllable of his complaint would be heard. He spoke on, even raising his voice as he spoke over his Lord. Nothing Eioth said or threatened did anything to stop him. Again Halidan saw the color of anger building in Eioth's face.
“I could send for Cris,” said Halidan.
Both men fell silent. Eioth surprised. Tribel horrified.
“Cris?” inquired Eioth.
“Yes, High Lord. In case it was not made clear, it was my bodyguard Cris who grasped Tribel about the neck. If I ask, I am certain that he would be honored to return and reenact the event for you. You know how greatly he admires you.”
Tribel glared at her, further enraged to see her seated at the dinner table. In Eioth's chair! Halidan lifted the one and only water glass to her lips and sipped, then rose to come and stand beside Eioth, offering the cup to him.
Tribel's mouth worked, but no sound emerged as Eioth accepted the cup and drank, carefully choosing to apply his lips to the very spot Halidan used.
“Tribel,” said Eioth, handing the glass back to Halidan. “I find your complaint entirely without merit and I find your service inadequate. Halidan lives in this House. She is to receive the service due to her. Do I make myself clear?”
Tribel glared at them both and stalked from the room without answering.
“Do not permit him to disorder your mind, dear Halidan.” Eioth reached around her waist and pulled her closer to his side. “He is an old fool.”
She only shook her head. “High Lord, ignoring him will not work. He is more powerful in this House than you. It is his good opinion that is valued by the servants, not yours. The servants told me you are rarely here so they regard this to be Tribel's territory. Whether you are here or not, Tribel commands.”
Eioth's face tightened. “Halidan, do not offer me disrespect to my face.”
“This is not my disrespect. It is his. It is theirs. You have lost control of this House.”
“Halidan, I do not tolerate his attitude and I will not accept worse from you.”
“Why is it my crime to report his?”
“Enough. This has been a pleasing evening. I do not wish to taint it with Tribel's influence.”
“Your servants told me they do not obey you. You saw it yourself when we arrived. Not a single person moved to in response to your direct command. You, yourself, escorted me through the house. If Cris and the guards had not arrived earlier today, Tribel would ha
ve had me carried bodily off the property. The servants would not have acted to aid me.”
“Enough! What would you have me do? I have tried to dismiss him, he will not go.”
“Then fire all the staff!” cried Halidan. “All of them. Hire those who know their loyalty is to you; those who know that if they do not obey they will lose their employment. It might be necessary to do it a few times before the lesson is learned. Once you are clear that Tribel is to be ignored or else their jobs are forfeit he will lose authority.”
“Have you any idea what that will do to my reputation,” shouted Eioth. “Do you think I want the story spread about that I cannot even order my own House! How quickly do you think stories of mass firings will spread about the Empire? No, Halidan, this will not do.” Tucking his hands into his sleeves, he closed his eyes until composure returned. “We will not be staying here very long. Ignore him for those few weeks. I have high regard for you, Halidan, and it is my desire to have a peaceful life with you. The subject of Tribel is ended.”
“It will never end while Tribel is in charge of your principle House.”
“Halidan, enough.”
“And how am I to trust that I may reside in this House lifelong if staying from one day to the next is at risk because of Tribel’s actions?”
Eioth went paler still. “You dare . . .” he began, then halted.
“If you will not hear my words, then I would wish you goodnight.” She bowed and turned to go. She was almost to the door before Eioth raised his head and called to her.
“My kiss goodnight?” He offered her a half smile and extended his hand to her. “Let us not part in anger after so pleasant an evening.”
She came halfway across the room to comply before stopping and shaking her head.
“At this moment, High Lord, I do not wish to.”
And she left.
Chapter Ten
“Damn him to the nether hells. Damn him to an eternity of swimming in acid. Let hungry fire ants eat his balls. May the length of eternity be doubled, nay, tripled just so there will be enough time hereafter for him to receive his adequate punishment and repent of his crimes.”