“Lady, lay your hands on the bark, and we will together see what manner of damage has been done. Your Earth will discover the secret of the blight.”
The few soldiers who had escorted them gathered together, though they kept their distance, and curiosity was plain on their faces.
Melenius guided Nevia up into the branches and down into the deepest roots. He was her vehicle, but he could not see what she saw, for he lacked her mastery of Earth.
“Veirakai’s curse is heavy on Vieta,” Nevia said. “The lingering stench of rot and decay – this is all the earth now knows.”
“What does the tree tell you?”
Nevia’s eyes frosted over completely. “We must dig up this tree and take it to the center of the blight. There, together, we can regenerate the oak, and from its roots, we can heal the land.” Her eyes cleared and focused on Melenius’s face. “I cannot do it alone.”
“I can’t do it at all. It’s your gift to Vieta.”
“Perhaps,” Nevia said, “but you understand your elements better than I. You must lead me.”
Melenius gave orders to the men to get to work digging up the oak.
****
It was the longest week of Melenius’s life, being so near Nevia yet unable to couple with her. No slaves had met with her approval, either, and he was beginning to get the sneaking suspicion that she was toying with him. So he daily rode out to the shores of Lake Basur, just to give himself something to do, to keep from claiming Nevia before everyone.
The tree had been replanted in the center of Vieta, just in front of the temple of Alaxton. Nevia’s brother had had the temple cleansed, and as Melenius approached the forum, he saw Judal the Younger clad in blood-red robes standing at the top of the temple steps. Nevia was already waiting near the old, gnarled oak.
The tree had been ready the day before, but that day had been the Festival of Guilds, a holy day celebrating Veirakai’s craftsmanship, conveniently forgetting the evil he represented. To reverse the curse of the Master-Smith on the day of his festival just seemed wrong. So, the healing would take place this morning, the thirteenth of the month. Melenius thought it a perfect day, for the thirteenth of every month was considered the best day for a bridal. And this day, a month ago, he had wed Nevia. Now he would bond with her in his elements, wedding her a second time.
All the refugees, restored to their homes, stood and watched. The garrison of Belamal’s soldiers was frozen at attention.
“Good morning, lady.” Melenius gave her a formal bow.
“Lord Firin.” She was as cold as the morning.
“I shall awaken the tree,” Melenius proclaimed to the assembly, and then in softer tones he spoke to Nevia. “I will convert it into a channel for your life-giving Earth.”
Melenius reached out with his airs as he instructed Nevia to touch the tree. He sensed the pulsing of the tree’s life, but Nevia would have to be the one to awaken its dormant vigor. Behind his airs came Melenius’s waters, and he felt Nevia’s raging fires crowning her earth.
Melenius’s elements hovered above and seeped below Nevia’s, and she opened herself to admit him. Melenius was aware of everything in the land, of the contours of the hills, of the rushing of the streams, of the blazing flames of life, and of the whispering forgetfulness of the airs of death. Melenius was in the air and in the water, and Nevia was in the fire and in the earth. His water doused her flames, only to be evaporated by the fires in its turn. His airs stirred up her earth, and her earth weighed down his airs. Over and over, combining and mixing, their elements merged together.
Melenius’s water ran through Nevia’s earth like mighty, underground rivers, springing up unexpectedly in spots, spraying forth in joy at the union. His air fanned her fire, consuming them both in a conflagration of passion. They were bound together by the same bonds that held the universe together. To sunder them would be as impossible as breaking apart all that is. Until that moment, Melenius had been a virgin in his elements, and only with the joining did he realize that until this day, he had been no true man, nor had Nevia been a true woman. He knew she felt just as he felt. He borrowed from her elements, just as she borrowed from his.
Nevia touched the tree, and flames leaped from her fingertips, but the tree did not burn. She closed her eyes, and when she reopened them, naked flames shone out of her icy face. A shock went out of the tree into the ground and spread across the land.
Melenius rose off the ground as he manipulated the currents of the air as easily as a bird might. His clothes whipped around him in a violent windstorm, but there was no breeze. And then Nevia erupted in flame. Fire covered her from head to toe, and though she burned, she was not consumed. No sound of flame issued forth from her.
Melenius felt Nevia, from within and from without; he felt her very being. And he knew then that this was why Lorin had but half the elements within themselves. It was so they would seek out their counterparts, their mates. Only then could they be complete. Together, Melenius and Nevia were a world unto themselves. Fire and water, air and earth, they were all.
Even as they joined, even as they became one being, Melenius and Nevia continued to work through their elements, healing the lands of Vieta. As they worked, they grew closer, more unified. Then suddenly, as Melenius knew that he had taken her true Lorin virginity, her flames went out, replaced by his whirlwind. He ceased to be a whirlwind, and he burst into flames, her flames. Then both of them were raging infernos, air and fire together; they floated above the once-dead land, and it was done. When the pleasure of their union became too great for him not to be touching her, it ceased.
Melenius’s consciousness slipped from him like water running through splayed fingers. He had never known anything until that day; every feeling he had ever had was as nothing. The vow he had made with Nevia was sealed in their elements. Just words before, now reality. They were within each other, nearer than their own hearts.
Melenius fell beneath Nevia’s earth and slept.
Chapter Thirteen
Nevia awoke to the feel of soft, spring air on her cheeks. She sat up, expecting to see the tree of Vieta before her, but instead she realized she was in a bed, a soft bed with rich coverlets and some half dozen pillows. She rose, confused, before she recognized the architecture of the temple of Alaxton. She must have been delivered into the care of her brother.
“Water.” Nevia did not even look at the slave who brought the water to her. Something was wrong. She did not, as she usually did, feel the desire to go to the peristyle of these living quarters. There was no need for Air and Water in her; she possessed Air and Water in possessing Melenius. But something hurt. She felt as she had when, as a toddler, she had fallen and dislocated her elbow. Everything was stretched too far; everything was out of joint.
“Domina, your brother has been awaiting your rising. Will it please you to see him now?”
“Yes.” Nevia waited as the slave draped a robe about her shoulders. In that moment of stillness, she felt him; she felt Melenius and all his emotions. There were no words, no thoughts as such, but she felt what he felt, his raging passion, his mounting frustration, and his need fed into her own.
“Sister, Lady Belamal.” Nevia’s older brother, Nevius Akar Judal the Younger, met her halfway to his receiving chamber in the temple. “It rejoices my heart to see you well. You have saved Vieta almost as much as Belamal Triumphant himself.”
Nevia saw no spark of affection in his eyes, but she did not care. “Brother, Vieta is living, for now, but the curse of the Master-Smith still fights us.” The lie, like the euphemism for Veirakai’s name, flowed easily off her tongue. “Though the healing has taken place, it is not secure. Lord Firin and I must seal it in our elements.”
“Then do so.”
Nevia saw some portion of her father’s imperious manner in her brother, and she was glad. It would serve her turn. “I would be pleased to do this, but it is a difficult and delicate business. And it must be dealt with at once.”
/> “Tell me what you require then.” Judal the Younger snapped his fingers for his steward.
“I require a chamber with an earthen floor, one isolated from everyone in Vieta. There must be only a single window. Four large braziers must be set up in the corners of the rooms, and four large basins of water must be set behind the braziers. We will be there for two days, so food must be prepared in advance. We will not be able to leave the chamber, nor may we be disturbed. If we are, I cannot answer for the sealing of Vieta’s restoration.” The list Nevia invented as she spoke the words, and she enumerated her lies as though sending her slave to market.
Judal the Younger nodded to the steward. “There is a small house near the edge of the village that should suffice. I will have my men remove any stone or covering from the floor.”
“I need to be there within the hour.” Nevia knew that her feelings were invisible to her brother, so she did not even bother to hide the desire for Melenius that consumed her. Her elements danced around her in anticipation, and her very earth was moved by her need. “Send word to Lord Firin to meet me at that house by that time.”
“So shall it be done, Lady Belamal.”
Nevia laughed in her airs. Her brother called her by the name of Belamal even in preference to “sister”, but she was not, nor ever could be, Belamal’s wife.
The hour passed slowly for Nevia, but by its end she was standing in the center of a warm room. Were it not for her own frost, the room would have been uncomfortably hot. Two small wooden tables were thrust haphazardly in the corner, and a small wooden cabinet was beside them. Four large braziers burned with hot coals, and beside each brazier stood a bucket containing sufficient coals to feed the flames for two days. Behind each brazier a large basin of water rested, and Nevia smiled to see how thoroughly her brother had carried out her ridiculously specific orders.
“Lady?” Melenius’s voice carried through the closed door. “I have come as you required.”
“Good.” Nevia did not move from her place. “Send the guards away. The rite demands absolute privacy.”
“You heard the Lady. Go.”
Then Melenius was inside the dwelling. “So what is this ‘rite’ we are to perform to seal the already-completed healing of Vieta?” He closed the distance between them as he spoke.
“I thought we could use some privacy.”
Melenius crushed her to him. “At last I am alone with my wife, then.” His kiss was so hungry, so deep, that when he finally released Nevia’s lips, it took her some seconds to gain enough breath for speech.
“You are alone with your wife for two days, Melenius. Two days of absolute solitude. No slaves even, to report on what goes on.”
“Oh, my snowflake, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.” Melenius tilted her head to the side and nipped at her neck. “You have kept me in torment this past week.” As the words passed his lips he took hold of her gown with one hand, and in one swift motion, ripped it from her body. “No clothes for you for the next two days.”
Dampness flooded Nevia’s pussy. Only Melenius dared to speak so to her; only Melenius was strong enough to carry the easy arrogance that so aroused her. Only Melenius could conquer her. But she would not surrender. “And what if I want clothes?” She bent to pick up the torn dress.
“I did not ask, my snowflake.” Melenius placed his foot on the gown. “And for your sauciness, you must be disciplined.”
The very word sent a quiver to Nevia’s aching cunt. She remembered when, just before her father had carried her off, Melenius had “disciplined” her for biting him. His gloriously skilled fingers had brought her almost to climax and had then stopped, leaving her in an agony of want. “You would not dare, Melenius.”
“Oh, but I would.” The rough laugh that filled Melenius’s elements was full of such passion that Nevia felt just an instant of perfectly delightful fear that perhaps he might lose his control utterly. Melenius grasped Nevia’s wrists, holding them both in one of his large hands. “You have tormented me throughout this week by keeping me from any climax but what I could give myself. Now I shall require of you a climax for every one your demands denied me.”
“Oh gods.” Nevia could only breathe because Melenius’s own Air was within her. Otherwise, the promise, with just a tantalizing hint of a threat, would have taken her breath away.
“Now open your mouth.” Even as he spoke, Melenius pressed on Nevia’s shoulder until she was on her knees. The earth was soft beneath her knees, and she settled comfortably as Melenius lifted the edge of his burgundy tunic. Nevia opened her mouth, scarcely able to contain her hunger for Melenius’s massive cock. It had been weeks since Nevia had last seen Melenius’s cock, and she had begun to doubt her own memories of it. Surely it was not as large as she remembered.
It was not. It was larger. The delight that shivered through her elements was answered by Melenius’s hand caressing her cheek.
“Now swallow it, my love.” His cock was already three-quarters erect, and by the time Nevia had licked it twice from base to tip, it was hard as a spear in her hands. She took it into her mouth, guiding the shaft toward the back of her throat. She had been able to deep-throat her pleasure slave, but Melenius was too long, too hard for even Nevia to take all the way down. She sucked as hard as she could, and she glanced up at him as she pleasured him.
That was, she realized at once, an error. Melenius’s waters were roused by her glance, and he grasped her hair. He growled in his earth, and the sound flooded Nevia’s pussy. Then, her head held securely in his grip, he fucked her face, thrusting forward until his penis rammed the back of her throat. She gagged slightly, but Melenius did not stop. He continued until, just as Nevia thought she could not endure another stroke, he came in her mouth. She started to pull back, but he held her motionless until the last drop of his cum sprayed onto her tongue. She looked up at him and swallowed.
“Now look what you’ve made me do.” Melenius pulled his cock out of her mouth. “You’ve made me come already. I suppose that will have to do for today.”
Nevia’s pussy protested, and she said, “Melenius, fuck me!”
“Now, now.” Melenius’s aroused elements made his voice ragged in her ears. “Even if I do fuck you, little snowflake, who said you would get to come?”
Nevia could not help herself. Melenius’s words were too much, too arousing. Her hands strayed to her breasts, tweaking her own nipples in her desperation for relief.
“None of that.” Melenius knelt before her and caught her hands in his inexorable grasp. “Your nipples are for me, not for anyone else, not even for you.” And as if to prove his point, he put his hot, wet mouth over her nipple. He sucked it thoroughly before switching to the other, and when he moved back to the first one, after a single, swift suck, he bit down.
Nevia shuddered as she came.
“Naughty girl.” Melenius still held her hands. “I didn’t say you could come yet.”
“Melenius—” Nevia could not think clearly enough to finish her sentence.
“I will have to examine this pussy, to see what makes it think it can come without my leave.” Melenius laid Nevia down on the soft earthen floor and pushed her knees apart. She was pleased to see his elemental smile when he noticed her complete lack of hair.
“It is good that you kept yourself smooth for me. It makes this examination easier.” Melenius thrust one finger into her, and Nevia instantly bucked against his hand. This week had been too long for her as well.
“I don’t feel anything amiss. Perhaps a more thorough examination is in order.” A second finger joined the first, and when he moved to three, Nevia began to tweak her nipples once more.
A sudden slap on her ass brought her to climax again, and Melenius’s deliciously scolding voice filtered through to her. “Not only did you just touch your breasts, but you came again without permission. What am I to do with you?”
Nevia opened her eyes, only then realizing that she had closed them, to see Me
lenius standing up. His back was to her, and he was rummaging in the cupboard. “This will have to do, I suppose.” He turned back, holding a worn cloak, clearly left behind by some fleeing soldier. Melenius smiled in his fires as he tore the cloak into half a dozen long strips.
“When my snowflake is so disobedient, stronger measures must be taken.” He was at her side again then, and he pulled her arms above her head. As he bound her wrists with the cloth strips, he said, “No more coming until I say.”
Nevia nodded. Her voice was lost somewhere in her chest. She had never been so wet. He then bound her elbows as well. No matter how she twisted, she would not be able to reach her nipples.
“Where was I when I was so rudely interrupted?” Melenius moved back to her dripping cunt. Nevia could see him perfectly as he knelt between her legs. The silver edging of his burgundy tunic caught the firelight, and his black hair reflected the same light. His wild, masculine beauty melted Nevia, and she whimpered from the sheer desire to climax. He had not even touched her yet.
“I can’t see well enough to determine what is wrong with this rebellious cunt.” Melenius suddenly hitched her legs up. Nevia’s knees hooked over his broad shoulders, and he supported her weight on his hands. No slave could ever have done this for her; they were too small. Only her Melenius was big enough to hold her like a child. Though her own shoulders were still on the earthen floor, she was not uncomfortable. And then Melenius thrust his tongue into her cleft, and she trembled. He licked her, and then, without warning, he bit down on the pink hood of her clitoris, just hard enough to cause a slight spike of pain in Nevia’s pleasure.
Nevia screamed in her third climax of the morning.
“The taste is not off.” Melenius licked her a few more times, almost as though making sure. “So it must be that you are doing this on purpose.”
“Of course I am.” Nevia’s voice was unsteady, but she spoke with elemental conviction. “You are not the only one who has been without climaxes.”
Chasing Earth and Flame Page 13