by D. L. Carter
“Halidan, I am shocked to see you so disrespecting books.”
She brushed the clinging dust that no amount of labor seemed to drive from the library from her hands as she rose.
“Mitash, you may put them on the shelves yourself if this offends you. Please arrange them by subject, age, author, rarity and don't forget to examine them for damage before you do and record all that information in the catalog.”
He raised both hands and backed away laughing. “My apologies, Lady. I should never presume to teach a tradesman his craft.”
“There are so many,” sighed Halidan, reaching into another box. “This is a job that will never end especially if the High Lord continues his purchases.”
“I trust you will solve the problem eventually,” said Mitash, “and with the greatest reluctance I come to tell you there will be a delay.”
She cast a suspicious glance in his direction. “What comes now?”
“The High Lord has become troubled by some rumors he has heard coming from Hub of Harmony. Usually the other High Lords remain in their demesnes until the week prior to the Synod tending to their responsibilities, but four have already arrived in the city and there are stories of private meetings with Chandri of the South East. The High Lord has decided that it would be best to join them to observe.”
“Oh.” The disappointment bit deep in her chest. Firstly, that Eioth would be leaving soon. His responsibilities must be satisfied, and as a citizen she was pleased he was so conscientious. But, the second thought hurt most. He did not come to tell her himself. He sent Mitash to tell her as if she were no more to him than any other servant.
Now that servants were willing to indulge her she'd taken her evening meal alone in her room since the night after Tribel was removed. Eioth did not complain. Indeed, he made no move to see her. In the morning, he was gone before she emerged from her chamber and she had no idea when he returned at night. To be fair, it was her fault as well as his that there was no opportunity to speak.
He declared her his Lady and she acted as if she accepted that authority. Given that, some personal message when he left the House would be proper. The library and her bedchamber were only a few steps from his room. How much time would it take for him to pause and tell her the news himself?
She lowered her gaze to her work. It was better thus. The extra sensitivity to the presence of magic was not yet gone from her skin, although it lessened with each day. Each time she passed a summoning crystal or any item to which clung some essence of old magic her skin itched and her anger flowed hot and fierce. If he came to speak to her, it was unlikely she would have listened to him calmly.
There was also no news from him to say if removing the spell from her skin was possible, so she must assume it was not. Perhaps it was best he leave and she should remain behind. No one outside the House knew he'd declared her his Lady. It might be time for her to retreat and resume her simple role as librarian. To ignore his declaration. Now that the new House manager was settling into her duties and Tribel safely incarcerated with the healers, she had solved the High Lord's oldest problem. Since the matter of intimacy was still unsettled between them it would be better for her to find a room in the servants’ wing. Begin the retreat from Eioth's side.
It wasn't as if she'd wanted to be his bed partner.
Tears burned unshed in her eyes.
“Halidan? Halidan, are you attending?”
She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes as her head came up. “Apologies, friend Mitash. My mind was wandering.”
“Well, run and fetch it,” he said with a laugh. “You will need it to pack.”
“Pack?”
“Yes. Have you forgotten? Eioth requires us to attend the Synod with him. We shall not be coming back again for some time, so leave nothing important behind.” He stared at her suddenly pale face. “Halidan, is all well with you?”
She wrung her hands together until she noticed the direction of Mitash's attention, then she put her arms to her side. “You may not have noticed, the High Lord and I have . . . had a disagreement. It might be best for me to remain here.”
Mitash waved that away. “Disagreements are common enough. You will be at peace, again.”
“I don't think so. I think it would be best for me to stay here and continue working.”
Mitash concentrated on the papers in his hands and refused to meet her eye. “You are coming with us, Halidan. The High Lord requires it and that ends the matter. I came to tell you, you will be permitted ten boxes of books only. Choose carefully. They will be collected tonight. We leave at first light tomorrow.”
Halidan's hands formed fists. End the matter, did it? Did Eioth think he could continue to regard her as one to be ordered about so abruptly? Had he learned no manners at all since the night he'd stolen her skin? She scowled at the floor barely paying any attention to the Elf who had actually spoken the words that offended her.
“Your guards will be at the main steps awaiting you the hour after dawn,” continued Mitash ignoring her distraction. “Until tomorrow, Halidan. Do not forget how to be punctual.”
Punctual? No, she had not forgotten that, but in the disorder and confusion attendant upon her employment she had completely forgotten the Synod. So much had changed since her hiring that she could barely remember from one day to the next what the original agreement had been, and to be honest with herself, she was not certain what she wanted.
Being the Lady of the House was the latest of the changes he had forced on her. She had been, by turns, the High Lord's librarian, his chosen intimate companion, and recently his victim, his magical tool. Even the memory of that night was enough to make her blood flow hot. Losing her father and the security of employment had been bad enough. There had been no certainty in her life from that moment onwards. She dangled, helpless, dragged along wherever the High Lord chose to go.
It was perhaps Eioth's ill luck that he entered the library at that moment. Halidan did not wait for him to greet her.
“Who am I to you?” she demanded, crossing the room to stand before him, hands fisted on her hips. Eioth halted, then took a step back as she advanced.
“Halidan? What disturbs your peace?”
“Who am I to you? I never know from the one moment to the next what will be the next change. The next demand. You are never satisfied. Librarian was what you asked me to do first, and I could do, will do that. I do not doubt my skills. But, then you added seduction and intimacy and magic. Magic beyond my expectations and understanding. Then, and I have no understanding as to why you added this when you had no need to make the offer, you decided I should be your Lady. And now the Synod!” Her voice became sharp and she paced through the piles of books waving her hands in the air. “The Synod! As if I have any training or preparation for dealing with such matters. And the worst of this.” She stopped and glared at him. “I cannot trust that this will be the end, though I cannot in my darkest moments imagine what else you might decide to demand of me.”
Eioth raised his arms to fend off her words.
“Halidan, please. Do not permit fears of the Synod to disturb your peace. You have good sense enough to serve there. Certainly you are more intelligent and better read than some of the High Lords.”
“I will be disturbed if I want to,” shouted Halidan, surprising herself by stomping her foot. “My peace is my own concern. What I want to know is what else will you demand of me? Where is the limit? What is the end? I cannot stand waiting for the next demand. Uncertainty was never part of my life.” Her voice faded away and she turned to stare out of the window. “With my father each day followed the other in peace and predictability. I knew what was expected of me and that I could fulfill it, but with you there is no certainty to rest my feet upon.”
Eioth crossed the room to stand beside her. He would have touched her, but she moved just enough to be beyond his reach. Resting his hand on the window he studied the familiar view.
“Certainty is not always a
virtue and change is not always a curse, Halidan.”
She grimaced. Eioth took her by the shoulders and brought her round to face him.
“You wish to know the limits of what I will ask of you? Very well, I shall say it, though you might wish the words unsaid as soon as you hear it.” He waited until Halidan raised her eyes to his. “I wish that you would say my name as a name and not a title. I want there to be one person in the Empire to whom I am both lover and friend. Who knows me and shares my life.”
Halidan gasped and tried to pull away, but his fingers tightened and he matched her retreat with his own advance.
“You know, Halidan, what it is to be lonely and alone. That is how it is with me. In my whole life, there has been no one to whom I am real. A person. No brothers, no sisters, no friends. No one sees me as other than the High Lord or the magician. Forever they regard me as what I can or must do, not for who I am.”
“Mitash . . .” Halidan managed to force the word out even though her breath was caught in her throat.
Eioth shook his head sadly. “No. Despite our years together, Mitash always maintains the distance of respect and rank. He would never dream of shouting at me the way you have, or reprimanding me for some real or imagined wrong.”
Halidan had to acknowledge the truth of that. Mitash had said so himself.
“But, you,” Eioth ran his hand over her recently trimmed hair, “You, from the first moment I saw you, you were strong. Proud. I have admired you from that moment. Do not imagine that any of the tasks I have set you are beyond your ability. You have the strength and spirit for all.”
“But, you want more . . .”
“Yes.” Eioth lowered his mouth toward hers. “I want you to love me.”
The kiss reminded Halidan of the days of the processional. Those evenings when she'd accepted his challenge, heart pounding, and kissed him hoping to discover what pleasure was. Now she had an answer. Pleasure was being held tight in strong arms tasting a familiar mouth. It was the warmth that blossomed in her belly, filling her loins with an ache and weakening her knees. It was burrowing through the layers of his clothing until her hands were filled with his skin.
When he lifted from her mouth, Halidan struggled to reclaim her scattered thoughts.
“I do not know how to love,” she whispered. “When we joined, I remember nothing more than the confusion and pain of the magic. How am I to decide? I still know as little about intimacy as before the Ritual.”
Eioth pressed his lips against her neck, his hands fisting in the loose folds of her shirt, drawing it up until his fingers reached her skin. It was the work of seconds to unravel her sash and loosen the ties of her skirts. The fabric fell, pooling about her feet.
“I want more than sex. More than intimacies.” His fingers spread and his hands moved restlessly over her back claiming, awakening her skin. “But, if you wish to know how to make love, I would be pleased to teach you.”
Halidan's grip tightened as he lifted her and carried her across the room to the day couch. Instead of lowering her to it he halted and stood, indecision written loudly on his face. Before Halidan could ask or protest he set her back on her feet.
“Tell me, I beg you, that it is your will that we lay together. I ache for you, but if you do not wish it I shall leave.” He rested his forehead against hers. “If you are merciful, say that you desire me, burn for me as much as I burn for you.”
Her hands trembled as she struggled to find the right words.
“When we were together before, all was lost in the magic. I. . .do not count myself as having been intimate with you. I still do not know how things are between a man and a woman. Do it to me, with me, again.” She pressed her lips to his and moved into his embrace. “Only promise me that it shall be your hands that touch me. No magic. Please, no magic.”
“All shall be as you wish.”
At first all Eioth did was hold her face cupped in his hands and kiss her, his mouth moving gently exploring her face, her neck. Halidan clung to him, eyes shut. When his hands drifted, sliding her shirt down her arms and exploring her curves she cried out and tried to pull away from the sensations building within her.
“No magic,” she cried. “You promised.”
“I swear, Halidan, there is no magic here. Only my hands on your skin.”
“But, I can feel it.”
Eioth brushed his fingers over the soft mounds of her breasts arousing, stroking the tender skin, seeking the pebbled nipple. His thumbs brushed each hard nub as he cupped and tightened his grip on their soft weight and she gasped, her eyes clenched shut. He kissed his way down her neck, licking her exposed throat, easing her clothing apart and down her arms. He paused long enough to draw back and admire the sight.
“So beautiful.”
Halidan trembled at the resonance of his voice and the heated touch as his hands traveled over her breasts, belly, and hips, curving round to cup her rounded buttocks. He pulled her close to press her nakedness against his body.
“This is what you are supposed to feel,” he whispered. “Your blood should run hot and hungry. Your skin should awaken and need.”
His hands gripped her buttocks and lifted her onto the couch, lowering himself beside her.
“Your womb should ache and weep and your body soften, ready to receive me.”
She could not bring herself to speak. Everything he said was true. Heat built within as it had when she'd first read of the sexual act and she wanted Eioth to press her beneath his weight, hold her, keep her. He did not look away from her face as he shed his clothing and for the first time by the light of day she could see him. While she thought him perfect while dressed, nude his body dazzled her. She ran wondering fingertips over the breadth of his shoulders, through the down soft hair scattered across his chest. At his indrawn breath she recoiled, snatching her hands away. Eioth seized her hand and pressed it against his hard stomach.
“Match me touch for touch and we shall explore.” His gaze traveled the length of her body. “You are a constant amazement to me, Halidan. I thought I knew you, but I see wonders hidden before.”
“I am as every woman,” replied Halidan.
“No, trust me, you are not. You are the only one I desire.”
Eioth's hands traced the delicate rise of her collar bones, down to cup her breasts. There he waited until she echoed his movements, her hands flat against his chest. Then he led her on a journey of their bodies, hands sliding over sweat slicked, firm flesh, seeking secret places to stroke and excite. Her breath came harsh and ragged as she enveloped and held his cock in her hand for the first time. Seeing his eyes close and body arch, she lightened her touch, but did not release him. Instead, she ran fingernails down the ridged length of him until his back bowed and his hips moved in rhythm with her touch.
His eyes snapped open and he seized her wrists, lifting her hands over her head.
“We shall be done too soon if you do not stop,” he said. “And I have not yet worshiped you as you deserve.”
His head descended and he explored her flesh with lips and tongue, ravaging her breasts until she wept. Finally he pressed his weight upon her, his hips close and heavy on hers, his erection trapped between their bellies. Halidan moaned and lifted toward him. The heat, the pressure of him comforted her and set her to flame. Her core was wet and hungered and still he tormented her. As her heart pounded and flame raced across her skin she struggled and tried to push him away.
“No magic, you promised.”
Eioth released her wrists, instead wrapping both arms about her. “I swear to you Halidan, this is only touch. My hands, your skin. No magic is needed.”
“No,” she struggled to rise. “No, it is as before. I feel too much.”
“Believe me. It is as it should be. Your body is made for pleasure.”
Tears leaked from her eyes as her chest heaved. “End it. Take me or stop. I cannot bear it.”
He hesitated, lying still upon her for an instant only. Then h
e lifted her hips, parted her thighs and entered her with one slow movement. The burning heat of his invasion shattered her. He moved his fingers across her mound, caressing the sensitive nub and her body shook as pleasure took her. Her cries filled the chamber as he rode her, drove her until she could not draw breath. With a hoarse cry he gathered her up in his arms and buried his face in her neck as his body convulsed in time with hers and pleasure tore through them both.
He continued to hold her as her heartbeat settled and the sweat cooled on her skin. Her arms remained loose about his shoulders until the tremors ceased and only then did she attempt to free herself. Eioth resisted her escape; instead, he shifted until they were again lying side by side upon the couch.
“Tell me you can tell the difference,” he said as he smoothed her hair. “Tell me I did not hurt you as before.”
It took her time to work out her answer.
“I admit it was not as bad as when you used magic.”
“Such flattery. I may never stop blushing.” His laugh was a low rumble in his chest. “I know it was a mistake to let your first experience be within the Ritual. Had we loved before you would have realized that what was happening should not be and stopped me.”
“No. No, I would have thought it was how the magic should be and permitted it to continue.”
“Even so,” said Eioth sadly. “I should have known better. I regretted before the Ritual ended that I had not loved you before.”
This time when she moved away he did not stop her. She shifted until she was seated on the side of the couch and covered her breast with one arm until she found her shirt and wrapped it around her.
“It was better this time,” he said. “You must tell me, for I cannot read your response. You did experience pleasure, did you not? You are unharmed.”
“This was . . .” she sought the best word, “comfortable.”
“Comfortable?” He came off the couch so fast he almost tumbled her onto the floor.
She gave a small shrug. “How else can I say it? Last time it felt as if a sharp clawed animal was trying to tear its way out through my skin. All of my skin. This time, although the sensations were strong, it did not hurt.”