Chasing Earth and Flame

by Adonis Devereux

  Nevia folded her hands in front of her. “I know precisely how long you have waited, sir.” Her tone was ice, and she turned to Judal. “Father, my seal.”

  Judal instructed Sero to assist her in fixing her seal to the tablet. Melenius watched everything in silence. It was so mechanical, unfeeling. He had always expected his wedding would be a joyous occasion, not some clandestine affair. Was Judal so shallow as to care about skin color? Truly, Melenius was not a pale-skinned Skenje, but he was a man of Nirrion like any other.

  Judal rose. “It’s done. As Chief Priest of Nirrion, I pronounce you married.”

  Melenius opened his mouth to object, but Nevia prevented him. “Father, we shall exchange our vows, as is proper. Only then will we be married.”

  This first insight into his bride’s personality thrilled Melenius. Here was a girl willing to stand up to her father, to speak her mind and make what demands she thought appropriate.

  “Yes, Daughter, of course.” Though Judal rolled his eyes, he assumed the formal stance of a wedding celebrant. He raised his arms wide, readying himself to speak.

  Nevia extended her hand to Melenius, and he took it. Indeed, she was cold to the touch, but her fingers clasped his earnestly. Her veiled face was turned toward Melenius, but he could not see what she was thinking at that moment.

  Judal cleared his throat and began. “Here, in the lights of Jehiel we are come to witness the wedding of Melenius Lozabet Firin to Nevia Akara Judal. May the vows they speak here be recorded in Jehiel’s own halls, to be held in his memory for all time.” He nodded to Melenius.

  “Where you are Chiel, then and there I am Alaxton. To my eyes you are fair as Melara, and may you be as fruitful as Elendrie.” Melenius whispered the words of his oath.

  Nevia spoke next. “Where you are Alaxton, then and there I am Chiel. To my eyes you are as rich as Galadrin, and may you be to me as just as Jehiel.”

  “Thus it is written,” Judal said.

  “So be it,” responded Melenius and Nevia in unison.

  It was done. The traditional vows exchanged, Judal kissed his daughter’s cheek. To Melenius, he said, “Raise your bride’s veil, and kiss your wife.”

  Melenius took Nevia’s gossamer veil between his forefingers and thumbs. He had avoided Nevia for the past five years, not trusting himself to be near her, lest his resolve abandon him and he take her before she was ready. He had loved her when she had entered womanhood, but as a Lorin she had not yet fully formed. Now she was ready. She was a woman, and his heart pounded in anticipation of looking upon the woman she had grown into.

  He raised the veil, and Nevia’s wintry blue eyes pierced him. The room fled away from him. All that remained was Nevia. Her fires sprang up at his touch; her earth surrounded them both. In turn, Melenius’s air sang her praises, his unfathomable waters alone vast enough to hold his boundless love for her. The gloss of Nevia’s pink lips reflected the glow of the setting sun. Her white hair was piled up beautifully on her head, and her ears were adorned with large hoop earrings of silver. She arched one eyebrow as Melenius paused in his appreciation.

  Reality rushed back in upon Melenius. The wedding kiss. The seal upon their vows. Melenius leaned in and only brushed Nevia’s lips with his own. A chaste kiss, nothing more. Nevia moved as if she were seeking more from him, but the passion that burned for her body was for her alone, not to be witnessed by anyone, especially her father.

  Nevia’s eyes searched Melenius’s face, but Melenius hid his heart away. Nevia laughed in her airs, and only Melenius could detect her merriment. Her confidence matched her beauty. Clearly she knew she was beautiful; she knew Melenius desired her, though he dissembled.

  Melenius knew all this passed before Judal’s eyes as nothing more than an inscrutable conference between statues. The first thing Melenius had learned from Garalach was that Lorin seemed emotionless to humans, nothing more than unmoving masks. But between Melenius and Nevia, there were no masks. Their elements called to one another. He wished Judal gone that instant.

  “I bid you good-night, dear,” Judal said, kissing Nevia’s cheek again, and he departed.

  “Back to Nirrion?” Melenius asked.

  “Yes.” Nevia unpinned the veil from her hair. “It was obvious my father did not want to be here.”

  Movement nearby caught Melenius’s attention. Garalach was still there, hanging around near the entryway.

  “It was kind of you to invite him, husband,” Nevia said.

  At that moment, Melenius knew that Garalach had invited himself. “Yes.” He turned to Garalach. “Thank you for coming, teacher.” He hoped Garalach would take the hint and go away.

  Garalach did not. “So, is it not time for cena? Strange that there was no banquet.”

  Not as strange as Garalach loitering with a couple on their wedding night.

  “I’m not hungry,” Melenius said.

  “Nor I.” Nevia walked over to Garalach and took his hands in hers. “Good-bye.”

  Garalach’s face crimsoned. He kissed Nevia’s hands and fled into the darkness.

  To any human, the room would have been filled with silence, but to the Lorin pair, Fire warred with Water and then melded into steam. Melenius strode across the room with the boldness of a man who was used to taking what he wanted.

  “I lied,” he said, taking Nevia by the wrists.

  “About what?” Nevia did not flinch from Melenius’s advance.

  “I am hungry.”

  “Then why did you not invite our teacher to cena?”

  “Because I have no appetite for cena. What I want, no guest can share.” And with that, he reached down and swept Nevia into his arms. His wife was small, and he judged her about half his weight.

  Nevia put her arms around Melenius’s neck and rested her head on his broad chest.

  Melenius took Nevia to the bedchamber and threw her upon the bed. He tore at his toga, but the folds were so complicated that in his enthusiasm, he only entangled himself worse.

  Nevia laughed and sat up to help him. “The wine color suits you, but why do you not wear white?”

  “Burgundy and silver are colors Faror men favor.”

  Nevia reached up and caressed Melenius’s beard. “I never thought I would marry anyone other than a Skenje like myself.”

  “Do you not approve of your father’s choice?” Despite the question, Melenius did not stop undressing himself.

  Nevia smiled in her airs. “On the contrary. Other than Garalach, you are the only other Lorin in the city. You are the only person who is real to me, and I have had my eye on you for some time.”

  “Eye on me? And how do I meet with your appraisal?” His chest was bare, and he was working on freeing his waist. His cock grew harder with each passing moment.

  “I will have to wait and see. I have waited five years already. What is two more minutes?” Her glance darted to his still-hidden cock. She ran her hands through his chest hair, playing with that which Melenius knew she rarely saw. It was the Skenje fashion for men to shave their chests and genitals. It was considered clean, like a shaved face. Melenius considered it effeminate.

  Melenius kissed Nevia’s mouth, and they melted into each other. He lay on top of her, his cock pressing up between her legs. He covered her like a blanket, and he was obliged to move down in order to hungrily kiss her as he wished to. He let his hands run free, starting at her waist, feeling her frosty flesh beneath her thin wedding gown. His fingers worked at the ties in the back, but his efforts only served to make the knots tighter. He disengaged himself from Nevia’s mouth and cursed. With a single tug, he ripped her gown from her breasts. Nevia gasped.

  Melenius took one breast in his mouth while he massaged the other with his hand.

  “So warm,” she whispered between pants.

  Melenius rolled her nipple around with his tongue as he reached down to play with her clit. Her freshly shaved pussy was already wet, and she thrust her pelvis up at his slightest touch. He sent his fingers
down both sides of her slick pussy, lubricating his digits before he began caressing her clitoris.

  Nevia moaned, and Melenius came up for another bout of fierce kissing. They kissed, licked, and tongued like they had never been in a bed before. Nevia slapped his buttocks, then grabbed them, crushing his pelvis to hers. She ground against him, moaning into his mouth. When they came up for air, they were panting, but Melenius did not stop. He returned his attention to her breasts, this time focusing his mouth on the other one, sucking on it and scraping his teeth against the nipple. Nevia grabbed his long hair, tangling her fingers in his mane. She wanted him to go further; her body was begging for more. Her pussy was soaked with anticipation, and his cock ached from his restraint. Not yet. He had other plans for her first.

  He sucked hard on her nipple, sensitizing it. He did this again and again until Nevia squirmed beneath him. Then he knew she was ready. He bit down, hard but not enough to injure her.

  Nevia slapped him across the face.

  Melenius laughed. “What was that for?”

  “How dare you bite the flesh of the daughter of the first house of Nirrion!”

  “I am no pleasure slave, lady. You are mine, and I will take what I want.”

  Nevia sank back into the bed and glared at him. He ran his hand up her pussy, feeling it dampening further. “Your blossom makes no objection.”

  “Maybe it does not know what is good for it.”

  “Then leave it to me.” Melenius slipped his tongue into her mouth, and his two middle fingers returned to work on her button. He clutched her breast with his other hand, alternating between fondling it and tweaking the nipple.

  Once Melenius felt Nevia relax, he trailed kisses down her neck to her breasts again. He sucked and scraped. His fingers worked on her clit, and when she raised her legs, he knew she was close. He bit down again, but he was not struck. Instead, Nevia’s gasp accompanied the spasms in her legs. She bucked against his touch, and with her hand, she kept his head firmly on her breast.

  Melenius continued to nibble and rub until Nevia moaned and shuddered. Warm wetness flowed from her pussy, and every time she exhaled, her body jerked in pleasure. She was ready. Though Melenius did not doubt her virginity, it was time to prove her chastity.

  He gave her little time to recover before he slipped his damp fingers into her inviting pussy. Melenius kept his face close to hers. Though her eyes were closed, his remained open. He examined her face as he explored deeper. Her frosty breath was on his cheek. Melenius took his time, gently probing the hymen.

  Nevia spread her legs and threw her head to one side, her hands roaming free over Melenius’s back. Melenius pushed, softly at first, but with increased pressure until he felt the hymen give way.

  Nevia’s eyes snapped open as she jerked with the pain. “Do you have any idea how long I have been saving that? What you just clumsily broke was worth a mountain of gold sentinels.”

  “Who said anything about clumsy?” Melenius kissed the tip of her nose and wiped the blood from his fingers onto a towel that lay beside the bed.

  “But why...?”

  Melenius smiled. “It was mine to break.”

  Nevia’s elements sighed, betraying her arousal. Her nature fit beautifully with his; she was a strong woman, rich, powerful, and demanding, and all she wanted was a man to dominate her, to give her something no pleasure slave or sycophant could.

  “You’ve never had a cock inside you,” Melenius said between kisses. “Now that your hymen’s broken, we can play freely.”

  Nevia thrust her hands into Melenius’s hair again and pulled him close. “Let us play, then.”

  Melenius accepted the invitation. He sat up, looked around him, and gathered all the pillows he could find. He stacked them up at a declining angle and then laid Nevia across them so that her breasts were elevated and her pussy was touching the bedsheets. He spread her legs wide and positioned himself between them. As he kissed her, he rubbed the head of his cock against her pussy lips, tapping the head of his penis against her clit. He balanced himself on his knees so that his hands would be free to massage her breasts. Her mouth, her breasts, her pussy – they were all his.

  Melenius put one hand under her buttocks and lifted her body slightly as he held his cock steady for penetration. Nevia only looked at him with wide sky-blue eyes. She nodded, and Melenius tucked the tip of his penis inside her. Nevia sharply inhaled.

  Not only was Nevia a virgin, she was also considerably smaller than Melenius. Her pussy was tight, and Melenius knew that even when she was accustomed to sex, she would always be tight. He steadied himself, put his hand behind Nevia’s neck to brace her body against his thrust, and slipped deeper inside her. His long cock was about halfway sheathed when Nevia shuddered and, with her heels, pushed against his haunches, inviting him deeper. Melenius had hit that rough spot in the wall of her vagina, that spot that drove women mad. His penis, being so hard, easily stimulated that place. The curve of his head rubbed against the spot, sending waves of pleasure through Nevia’s entire body.

  Melenius had chosen this position for a reason; as a virgin, it was easiest and most pleasurable for Nevia. She could take in the whole length of his penis without pain. Once Melenius was buried as deeply as he could go, he drew near his wife, embracing her in his strong arms. Her white flesh, almost blue-tinted in its pallor, was beautiful against his tanned skin. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm, giving him freedom to play with her breasts while he fucked her. He proceeded gently, taking his time, giving everything he had to Nevia, taking from her everything she gave. They made love not only with their bodies but with their elements, and though his Air and Water sought her Fire and Earth, Melenius would not let his elements bond to hers. He did not know how much she knew about Lorin ways or what Garalach had taught her. What he knew about elemental bonding, he had researched himself.

  He was content for the time being to enjoy his wife’s exquisite body, to part her innermost secrets with his thrusting cock, to taste her sweet mouth, to fondle her soft breasts. He arched his back, nearly doubling himself over so that he might suck at her breasts again. He loved her breasts, her soft, pink nipples. They stood as hard as his penis; they gave him as much pleasure as his cock gave her. Melenius took her nipple between his teeth. With his hand, he pulled up one of her thighs so that he could penetrate deeper. Nevia responded by lifting her other leg herself.

  Together they slammed into each other. Nevia put her legs on Melenius’s shoulders, and he moved to a kneeling position, bracing his weight by leaning back. His cock, fucking at an incline, hit her spot repeatedly. She writhed against him, and the pressure built in the tip of his penis. He grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto him. He widened his knees, allowing his balls to rub against the sheets as he delved.

  Nevia nearly sat up, her mouth seeking his kisses. He gave them to her, and as they sat locked at the mouth and the pelvis, Melenius felt her juices flowing as sweet as Melara’s own wine. His climax was imminent, so he clapped his hands around the back of Nevia’s head, crushing her against his chest. She licked his nipples as she was held there. The ferocity gave way to slow, deliberate thrusts. Then, suddenly, Melenius froze. His whole world turned into the tip of his cock, and Nevia was the center of that world.

  He held it. Nevia looked him in the eyes, and he looked back. And then he nodded. Nevia’s hands clawed at the pillows beneath her, and Melenius released his seed inside her. His eyelids fluttered, and a high whine escaped his lips. Every muscle in his body was tensed, every function suspended. Every thought fled as he pulsed inside her.

  Nevia moaned and bucked her pelvis with renewed vigor as Melenius’s seed swam deep within her, and still Melenius knelt frozen in his moment of ecstasy. When the cum flowed no more, he collapsed on Nevia, enveloping her small body in his long arms. He inhaled the fragrance from her hair, and he never wanted to let her go. He wanted to stay in that moment of perfect union forever.

  ****

 
A small table laden with wheat cakes, honey, olives, and dates lay at Melenius’s and Nevia’s feet. They had made love with the dawn, and only after did Melenius call for breakfast. Nevia popped an olive into her husband’s mouth; he spread honey across her cake. Melenius’s elements were growing accustomed to Nevia’s chill. He had held her close to his naked body all night, and he had slept most comfortably.

  “Maybe it’s because I’m Lorin,” he said, apropos of his unspoken thought.

  Nevia sipped honey water to clear her mouth of food. “Maybe what?”

  “I was thinking – maybe I’m not affected so much by your frosty touch because I’m Lorin, too.”

  “Well, I have never really touched Garalach, so I have no comparison.” Nevia lay her hand across his. “But I feel your airs diffusing my cold, so perhaps you are right.”

  “It’s not to say you’re not cold – you are.” Melenius laid aside his knife and took Nevia in his arms and kissed her. “I like the chill of your touch. It arouses me.”

  Nevia laughed. “Are you not yet satisfied?” But her objection was playful. She reclined upon the pillows and raised her arms, inviting her husband to explore.

  Melenius pulled aside the covers and rubbed his hands over her smooth belly and over the soft mounds of her breasts. Her nipples hardened immediately, and so did he. But their amorous play was interrupted.

  “Pardon, Dominus.” Melenius’s steward stood in the doorway.

  “Enter,” Melenius answered, though he did not cease to tweak and tease Nevia.

  Nevia did not cover herself at the presence of a mere slave. That did not surprise Melenius; what did surprise was him was how Nevia reached under the sheets and stroked his cock into full hardness while he was reading a missive from the Senate.

  The message explained the goings-on of the latest session, specifically detailing Senator Enad’s speech. He had called for patience, to not commit so much of the republic’s treasury to the war effort. The Kindor were still far off to the south, in lands beyond the provinces of the republic. If money were funneled away from agricultural and public works programs, the citizenry would become dissatisfied. The republic needed to protect its own.