Chasing Earth and Flame

by Adonis Devereux

  Melenius then checked the votes, looking for Senator Tegin’s name. Melenius had worked long and hard to convince Tegin of his position, and he was confident that Tegin could have used his influence to swing the vote in his favor. But Tegin had ended up standing with Enad.

  “Veirakai’s syphilitic dick!” Melenius threw the tablet across the room.

  Nevia stopped her ministrations. “What happened?”

  “Tegin! He turned against me.”

  Nevia sat up. “Tell me what is the matter.” She smoothed down Melenius’s long hair, running her fingers through it.

  “Matters of the Senate. Nothing that you need worry about.”

  Nevia laughed, and her airs echoed her mirth. “I am the wife of Senator Firin. I am also an Akar daughter.” She lay back again, returning to her breakfast. “I am not worried. Politics are no worry for me. Quite the contrary; they amuse me.”

  Nevia’s flippant answer annoyed Melenius. He had worked so hard on this vote; she did not know what it meant to him. “Well, amuse yourself with this, little girl.” He had a nearby slave hand Nevia the tablet.

  Nevia read it and tossed it aside. She said nothing. She just kept eating. Her eyes betrayed nothing.

  “Well?” Melenius was sitting up. His wife had his full attention.

  “What?” Nevia spoke with her mouth full.

  “The message from the Senate!”

  “Nothing for me to worry about, just as you said.”

  Melenius pounced on her. He wrestled her, tickling her with his beard. “I'm sorry, my love.” He put his head between her breasts. “I should have known you are no green girl.”

  Nevia lifted his head and made him look her in the eyes. “And do not forget the lesson you have learned this morning. It is not for nothing that my pussy commanded such a high price.”

  Melenius fell to laughing, and in his joy at realizing just how wonderful his wife truly was, he kissed her deeply.

  “I recognize the hand,” Nevia explained at last.

  Melenius picked up the tablet and inspected it, wondering if he might be able to recognize it.

  “Not the script, darling,” Nevia said. “The diction. Enad always uses a certain slave to write his speeches when he is going to be cowardly.”

  “How do you know this?”

  “My father thinks I have no ears.”

  Melenius marveled. He wondered what secrets the daughters of Nirrion gleaned from their careless fathers. “Anything else?”

  Nevia kissed his nose. “Do not blame yourself. It is not your fault Tegin betrayed you.”

  “Because?” He ceased asking why.

  “My father bought him years ago. Blackmail is a powerful thing.” She smiled slowly at him.

  Melenius held Nevia out at arm’s length. “No, that’s not possible. I’ve seen him vote against Judal’s interests before.”

  “Only when the number of votes did not matter. Only when my father was assured of victory. This way no one suspects that Tegin is my father’s pet.”

  Melenius rose from bed. His mind worked so quickly, was so full of information and possibilities, that his body required locomotion. Stark naked, he paced in front of the bed. “Your father is like a spider sitting at the center of its web.”

  “Ever vigilant, ready to catch any fly that might get caught. Spin them up, and save them for later. Who knows when his appetite will strike?”

  Melenius paced some more, but Nevia’s eyes stopped him. She was lying in bed staring at him, appreciation in all her elements. Her eyes went from his chest to his cock and back up again.

  “And I’m beginning to sense that you have something of your father in you, as well.”

  Nevia smiled sweetly. “How fortunate for you.”

  “Aeirakai’s own luck follows me.” Melenius stood so that Nevia might better admire his naked form. “Counselor and lover in one woman: a perfect wife.”

  “Pity you waited so long to take me.” Nevia crawled to the end of the bed. “And my sheath fits your sword. What better match can there be?” And she swallowed his cock.

  Chapter Three

  Nevia sighed so deeply in her airs that even her waters rippled. Her arms were full of roses, white, pink, and even so dark a shade of red that it was nearly purple in her eyes. “It is not for nothing that the Gardens of Melara are so famous for their roses. I have never seen any so beautiful before.” She inhaled their rich scent again. “It was kind of you to take me.”

  Melenius’s laughter rang out in all four of his elements. “Kind? My love, you do enjoy your teasing. I went there to buy roses for my own votive offering to the Rose-goddess.” He paused in his steps and embraced Nevia so tightly that the roses were in danger of being crushed utterly. “How could I not take you to the shrine when you are the reason for the offering?”

  A strange sensation pricked at Nevia. When Melenius held her in his arms emotions swept over her, emotions such as she had never experienced before this fortnight with her new husband. In all her life, Nevia had never trusted anyone. She had learned too well from her father that every man could be bought, every man could be at any moment dissembling. She had watched her father weep at the funeral of a man whose death he had ordered, and she had learned. But now she felt as though Melenius was different. She had seen him laugh in his air at some chance word of hers; she had seen him so furious that he had broken three vases and two urns before he had calmed; but she had not seen him hide anything from her. He was open with her, and she treasured his confidence. But did not this put her in Melenius’s power?

  Nevia could think no further, for Melenius’s lips sought hers. All her doubts and confusion washed away in his Water, and she dropped the roses she held to clasp her arms around his neck. “I am glad to be your wife.”

  Melenius kissed her again, and Nevia did not know how long they would have stood there had not the sweet sound of running water shaken her back to herself. “Is there not a stream nearby?”

  “Yes.” Melenius smiled in his elements, a deeper smile than Nevia thought her idle observation warranted.

  As Melenius scooped up the roses she had dropped, Nevia followed the sound of the water. Soon she stood by the side of a little creek, and she dropped to the soft grass, slipping her sandals off. She dangled her feet into the water, and the wind blew through the grass. Something in her, some longing for which she had no name, was fulfilled by the air and the water. She sat, listening to the music of the water and the sky, while Melenius marked her throat with his kisses.

  The interlude delayed their return, but Nevia did not care. Even as they stood in the courtyard of the villa, her head was still swimming with the intoxication of Melenius’s body. She could not resist touching his hair, even as he stood speaking with his steward. The length of Melenius’s hair fascinated her. It was the Nirrion fashion for men to keep the hair short and the face clean-shaven. It was a fashion of which she had thought she approved until Melenius. His hair hung down just below his shoulders, and she loved its blackness and the silken feel of it beneath her fingers. She was so absorbed in the tiny plait she making that when Melenius spoke, it took her a moment to realize he was addressing her. “Yes?”

  “Diro says there is a letter for you, my snowflake.” Melenius gestured to his steward, who bowed and held out the small scroll.

  Ginovae, who was always at Nevia’s elbow, took the scroll and read it. “It is from the Domina your mother.”

  Nevia continued to plait. “What does she write?”

  “She writes of an order of new gowns, of her intentions to give a feast next week, and of the pregnancy of her niece.”

  “My Basura cousin?” Nevia dropped the tress she held. “Is this not her second child?”

  “Yes, Domina. Her first was a son, and he is above two years old now.” Ginovae rolled up the scroll and tucked it into one of the many pouches at her waist.

  Nevia stared at the smooth grass. Her father always required that his villas be kept in perfect or
der, and the front garden of this villa was no exception. The scent of the peaches on the tree above her wafted down. Of course she had been a fool to trust Melenius. “I think I will go to my bath, Ginovae.”

  Melenius stopped in the midst of his speech with Diro. “I had thought you wished to place the roses with me?”

  Nevia’s waters iced over. “No. I will go to my bath now.” He mocked her with his roses and votive offerings. His love was a sham, no more real than her father’s tears.

  “If that is what you desire.”

  Nevia saw Melenius’s perplexity tracing through his earth, but she did not dignify it with any sort of response. He was her husband, yes, but she was still an Akara. She had her pride, if nothing else.

  Ginovae prattled on about the preparations for their return to Nirrion the next day, but Nevia did not attend. She knew that, had Ginovae been capable of discerning her emotions, the conversation would have been full of vain attempts at comfort instead. Nevia was glad not to be pressed. She had never had a confidant, and she did not want one now. What was a confidant but a weakness to be exploited?

  Ginovae stripped off Nevia’s gown and scraped her with the scented bathing stone.

  Nevia usually enjoyed the sensation of a good bath, but now she merely stood, hating herself. How could she have any feelings for Melenius when he had so wronged her? But her heart would not listen to her head or her pride. She could not think of Melenius without tenderness, and her wrath burned against herself for that.

  “Domina?” Ginovae directed her to the rose-petal strewn water. “Will you not rinse yourself?”

  Nevia stepped into the water, feeling its temperature drop immediately. Ginovae raised a finger, and two bath-slaves darted forward with large tubs of steaming water, which they poured into the bath.

  Nevia put her head under the water, and her hair, loosed from its bindings, floated around her in a white cloud. She came up for breath, and rose-petals stuck to her hair, their deep crimson standing out startlingly against the white.

  “You are a vision.” Melenius came to stand by the edge of the bath. He snapped his fingers, and the two bath-slaves who had heated Nevia’s bath came forward to scrape him.

  Nevia watched, and she felt a by-now familiar ache begin to spread through her pussy. She wanted him, needed him, but she refused to allow him the satisfaction of knowing that he could affect her. From this moment, she resolved not to be open with the one who had wronged her more deeply than any other ever had. For this fortnight, she had managed to push away the insult, to gloss over it, but when they returned to Nirrion, she would be reminded of it daily by all those others, like her Basura cousin.

  Melenius joined her in the water, slipping beneath its surface, only to appear at her side. He pressed his lips to her brow and slid one hand up her flank, coming to rest on her breast.

  Nevia cursed her treacherous body for the hardening of her nipples, but she did not speak.

  “What is wrong, my snowflake?” asked Melenius.

  Nevia pushed his hand away, her rage freshly-stoked by the pet name she had been so fond of only that morning. “Nothing.”

  Melenius caught both her wrists in one of his hands, the other hooking around her waist, pulling her onto his lap. “Do not lie to me, Nevia. All of your elements are in turmoil, and your fires are colored with fury.” His grip on her wrists increased slightly. It was not painful, but Nevia knew that Melenius would brook no defiance. Her juices began to flow, and her anger at her inability to keep herself in check swept her away.

  “Oh, I shall not lie to you, you bastard Faror.” Nevia wrenched her wrists free in his momentary shock. “You are the one who has lied to me, lied every day since we were wed.”

  Melenius’s ire, which had begun to tinge his elements, died away abruptly, obliterated by confusion. “I never have. What is it that you think is a lie?”

  “You said you loved me.” Nevia tried to slip away, but Melenius tightened his grasp on her waist. “But you have dishonored and humiliated me.”

  “What was it that your mother said that turned you against me?”

  Despite her anger, Nevia could not help but feel a hint of gladness that Melenius had noted the moment her mood had shifted. No one else could even see her reactions, let alone interpret them. “She wrote of my cousin’s pregnancy. This is her second child.” Nevia’s wounded pride bore her up, and she ignored the rising of Melenius’s cock as one of his hands wandered to her ass.

  “And?”

  “She has already given her husband one son, and now she carries a second child. And she is two years my junior!” Nevia’s frustration and shame flooded all her elements. “Waiting until my brideprice was fully paid before wedding me. I have been a spinster in my father’s house for these five years!”

  Understanding, like the rosy flush of dawn, spread through Melenius’s airs, and he moved his grip to her shoulders. “Do you think that your father would have let me have you before my debt was paid?”

  “Of course.” Nevia’s wrath was unappeased. “And you know it, too. He has no need of money. He could return my brideprice to you tomorrow and never feel the loss. He prefers influence, and if you owed him money, he would have been glad to have compounded for my marriage then. No, it was your decision to wait. It was your choice that has made me the laughingstock of the republic. The most eligible maid in Nirrion! That is what I was supposed to be, but for five years after I became nubile I was kept as a spinster in my father’s house. Five years!” She could not escape Melenius’s arms, but she struggled against him, beating his chest with her fists. “How can you say that you love me when you are the cause of my shame?”

  “Listen to me, Nevia.” Melenius bent his head to kiss her, but she bit his lip. “I will discipline you for that in a moment, but first you must listen. It was hard to wait for you. I would have liked nothing better than to take you the day you became nubile, but I did not want a child-bride. I wanted you to be a full woman, as you are now.”

  Nevia tried to harden her heart against Melenius’s words, but his right hand, straying from her shoulder down to the curve of her ass, made it impossible. Still, enough anger yet seethed in her that she spoke. “And why should that have stopped you? I was a woman then. My breasts could suckle children. I had my menses, and my womb could carry your son. I might by now have given you two children, and still you would have had me as a full woman!” She struggled futilely again. “How can I forget that the man I have come to love humiliated me? Wasted five years of my life because he wanted my breasts to have finished growing?”

  Melenius bent his head to her nipple and dragged his teeth along the pink flesh. “Had I known that they would be such absolute perfection, I might very well have done so for no other cause.” His dark eyes were so bright with his fire that Nevia could not look away from them. “But no, my snowflake, my Nevia, that is not the reason. I can see that you have not been taught this of the Lorin, and it does not surprise me. Garalach did not teach me; I learned myself from a text my great-grandfather had brought from Faror.”

  Nevia’s elements tumbled one over the other in her fury, arousal, and curiosity. “What about the Lorin?”

  “We are able to do so much more than fuck. For two Lorin who, as we do, have opposite elements there is the possibility of perfect bliss. We can join in our elements as well as our bodies.” Melenius’s hands were both beneath the water, caressing her ass and sliding around to her pussy. “But when we do so, we cut ourselves off even more thoroughly from the part of us that is merely human.”

  “What do you mean?” Nevia’s emotions were still at fever pitch, but desire to know more of the Lorin and for Melenius were slowly overcoming her anger.

  “We cease to be human at all. Rather we are elemental beings housed in flesh. In practice, our bodies cease to age – or to develop. Had I taken you to wife when you first became nubile, then you would never have grown into this glorious perfection of womanhood that you are.”

&nbs
p; Nevia’s wrath dissolved as Melenius cradled one of her breasts in his hand. His other was back beneath the water again, seeking her hungry cunt. “We cease to age? Has that already occurred? For when you take me, I feel your elements brushing mine, touching mine.” As Melenius’s fingers slid inside her, her mind continued to work out the implications of his words.

  “Not yet, Nevia, for I wished you to know what it would mean to bond before we did so.” The motion of his fingers grew swifter, and Nevia pressed herself against Melenius’s hand. “When we bond, we will share elements.” He withdrew his fingers.

  Nevia moaned in her airs. “I was so close!”

  “I know.” Melenius’s elemental smile was wicked. “Did I not just tell you that I would discipline you for biting me?”

  Nevia’s lack of anger surprised her, but only for an instant. She admired Melenius’s strength, and she rejoiced in his dominance. It was, she realized, what she had been lacking all her life. But though she enjoyed being conquered, she would never surrender. She slid forward on his knees, crushing his ragingly-erect cock between her abdomen and his. “That was certainly a cruel punishment.” She rubbed against him, stealing a bit of relief from the sensation of his shaft against her pussy.

  Melenius laughed in all four of his elements. He gestured to one of the bath-slaves. “Bring it here.” As the slave darted forward with an object that Nevia could not quite make out, Melenius kissed her mouth, deeply and searchingly. When he pulled away, he said, “ It was hard for me, my snowflake, harder than you can imagine, to wait this long. To know that you belonged to me, to know that such beauty was mine for the taking – it was torture to keep myself from you, but I did it for your own sake, that you might reach full fruition before we ceased to grow older.”

  Nevia knew at that moment that she could never again hold her long spinsterhood against Melenius, but she did not speak of it. Instead she pointed to Melenius’s closed hand, the one that held the object the slave had given him. “And what is this?”