Saving Marigold: Lick of Fire

by Kallysten

  No, she told herself forcefully. That hadn’t been a man. Not even the monster she’d made him and his fellows to be. He’d just been an animal. Ironic, really, as he’d called her an animal, afterward, as though it were all her fault.

  She refused to think about that anymore, refused to let that animal continue to hold power over her any longer. She was free of that jail, free of her jailers, free to think and do whatever she pleased, whether in her own mind or in the real world. And what she wanted was for Chris to undress her.

  And he did.

  The strips of cloth that had bound her for so long fell easily under his touch, while his own all but dissolved when she started undoing his buttons. She swallowed hard and kept her eyes up… at least at first.

  As they sat next to each other on the bed, they touched each other with fingertips at first, exploring in turns the dip of a hip or the strong line of a collarbone. Each slide of Chris’ fingertips felt like the caress of fire, warming Marigold down to her very core.

  Once they’d mapped every inch of each other’s skin, they did it again—this time with their lips. Marigold could tell already that Chris was more than eager to move forward; it’d have been difficult not to notice the hard length of his cock jumping every time her hands or mouth drifted close to it. She avoided touching it as her desire slowly built within her, until what she wanted in her mind was what her body wanted, too. Only then did she trace a long line with the tip of her index finger from root to tip, and watched Chris shudder.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded, then forced out a “Yes.”

  “How do you want to do it?”

  She had to think about it, but it didn’t take her long to realize she didn’t want to have his full weight on top of her, not this time. She wanted—no, she needed to be in control. There’d be plenty of time in the future to redefine what they both enjoyed and preferred.

  She didn’t say any of this aloud, but somehow he seemed to understand what she was thinking. With a nod of his own, he laid down in the center of the bed and held his hand out to her. She took it and knee-walked over to him until she was straddling him.

  She couldn’t have said if she was more impatient or excited when their joined hands wrapped around his cock and guided him inside her.

  After a few seconds to get used to the feel of him, she started moving, at first barely rocking, then soon raising herself higher above him before pressing down a little harder each time.

  Out of nowhere, the old memories tried to force their way back to the surface. She’d expected they might, and she was ready. She pushed them back, hard, slashing at them the way Chris had taught her to slash at the monsters. They shattered into countless shards, as though they’d been made of glass—and so did the walls.

  The entire maze came tumbling down around them. They both froze, looking at each other then at the dusty landscape as it slowly cleared up.

  And suddenly, they weren’t in a maze anymore. They weren’t under a golden dome either. Instead, they were in the center of the meadow, with butterflies swirling around them, wildflowers like a carpet of a thousand colors, and the sun shining behind the canopy of the four poster bed.

  Their gazes found each other again. They shared a smile, a kiss, and started again in earnest. If nothing else, the collapse of the maze had just reminded Marigold that they were in her mind, and none of this was real.

  But then, why did every touch, every slide of his cock within her feel more real than anything she’d ever experienced?

  When she started faltering, her rhythm breaking as her body started to betray her, Chris drew her to her side and pulled her leg over his hip to bring her closer.

  “Is this okay?” he asked, a little out of breath.

  She felt stronger, somehow, more confident, when realizing he was affected by what they were doing just as much as she was. Rather than answering, she gripped his shoulders, and started moving against him once more. He moved back in counterpoint to her slides, reinforcing her rhythm, deepening each thrust. Their fingers trailed over sensitive skin even as their mouths met again. They continued like this, keeping things slow, making each moment that much more fulfilling.

  They might have been only thoughts, but when the time came, the wave of pleasure that took her—that took both of them—felt more than real.

  As they lay together, Chris caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers and asked very quietly, “Are you all right?”

  “Better than all right,” she replied, and while she didn’t feel like she could laugh yet, she hoped he could sense the joy in her heart.

  She brushed her lips against his, an echo of the kiss that had started it all. They drifted out of her mind still entwined.

  With a slow blink of her eyes, she found herself back in the kitchen where they were still holding hands, both of them breathing heavily. As she looked at him, at the trace of sweat on his temples, she guessed that her own face was as flushed as his was. She smiled at him, but rather than smiling back he gave her a worried look.

  Now that just wouldn’t do.

  *

  The moment Chris drew out of Marigold’s mind, the weight of what they’d just done—what he’d just done—threatened to crush him. She’d been hurt for so long, was still battling those memories… how could he have allowed this to happen? She wasn’t ready, it was all still so fresh for her and—

  “No.”

  He blinked repeatedly as the quiet word broke through his thoughts, finally focusing on Marigold at his side. Her cheeks were pink, and her eye shone, but her expression was one of pure resolve. She still clung to his hand, he suddenly realized, and while he wasn’t in her mind anymore, his own thoughts were so agitated that she must have picked up on them.

  No, she said again, this time inside his mind. You didn’t take advantage of me, not in any way. You didn’t hurt me, or wound me. I wanted this. Really.

  He skimmed through the surface of her thoughts, observed her features very carefully, and both inside and out, she showed him she meant this. Relief swept through him, along with a sense of awe. This was the most self-assured he’d ever seen her. He liked that look on her. She blushed a little more as the thought filtered out to her.

  It felt so strange… He had memories of touching and kissing every inch of her body, of tasting her lips, of being inside her body and moving with her, for her… and yet, he’d never done more in the ‘real world’ than hold her hand or kiss her forehead.

  “Would you like to go for a walk?” he offered, feeling a little awkward.

  She replied with a smile, and although it remained small it lit her entire face.

  Before that, though, they both took a moment to refresh themselves. Their lovemaking might have taken place inside their joined minds, it still had left traces upon their bodies.

  On their walk, he held her hand carefully between both of his, not so much worried she might somehow flee as unwilling to relinquish this closeness with her for even a moment. She led the way down the driveway and across the road to the meadow. There, they sat on the large rock where they’d spent hours that summer. He smiled when she closed her eyes and tilted her face up toward the sun, clearly enjoying its warmth on an otherwise cool day.

  He wasn’t deep within her mind, but with her hand still nestled between his he had access to the surface of her thoughts and emotions. She liked it here. She liked the peace of her surroundings, and the view when she opened her eyes. She thought the meadow was beautiful. It reminded her of her home—the place where she’d grown up until her early teens before her parents decided they had to run from the authorities.

  They’d moved from place to place almost continuously after that, a feat complicated yet a little more when her mother passed away while giving birth to Isolda. Her father had all but relinquished the task of taking care of the baby to her, and when he’d lost his life in a car accident when she was barely eighteen and Isolda only four, she’d continued doing the only thing
she knew how to do: running. And she’d done so until she was caught.

  Chris almost lost his breath at how easily all this information flowed through his connection with Marigold. She wasn’t exactly pushing the thoughts toward him, but it felt like something she wanted him to know. To understand about her.

  “You don’t have to run anymore,” he said, speaking the words aloud so she’d have no doubt they came from him. “You’re safe, here. And so is Isolda.”

  She’d visited for the third time the day before. They were short visits, heavily supervised, but they’d all gone without incident. Isolda was already asking to move in with them. Chris trusted she wouldn’t stop asking until she was allowed to do so. If it’d been up to him, he’d have agreed right away, simply because seeing her made Marigold happy—and seeing Marigold made her happy. Still, the cottage might be a bit cramped if she joined them there.

  “It’s so beautiful here,” Marigold murmured. “If only I could wake up to this sight every day.”

  Chris looked around, and suddenly he could see it all through her eyes: the flowers, the insects, the birds, the quiet, the peace, the open space…

  “We could request to build a house here,” he said, almost without thinking. The last time he’d seen his brother, Idris had told him he and Violet were having a small house built close to the town center.

  “Ask who?” Marigold said.

  “Lily Littlewings, I suppose. Or maybe her daughter. It’s their land, all of this.”

  “But how will we pay for it?”

  He told her about the way Sanctuary worked, about everyone contributing what they could to the well-being of the community. The explanation left her worried.

  “I don’t know that I have anything to contribute.”

  He kissed her cheek gently as he reassured her. “You’ve got plenty of time to think about that. For now…”

  Jumping to his feet, he took a few steps in the meadow, looking left and right. They’d want to disturb nature as little as possible, which meant… He moved toward the left, where the vegetation was more weeds than wildflowers, and called out even as he pointed to the ground, “Right here, a big window for the master bedroom, so you can have your view right from the bed.” A few steps further, and his arms came up and above him, tracing a door. “A master bath right here.”

  “With a big tub,” she called out as she stood from the rock and came toward him.

  “With a nice, big tub,” he agreed, and the implication was clear: big enough for two. “Then down here another bedroom for Isolda. A living room here. A kitchen where we can actually move around.”

  He didn’t know if it’d be possible, but just dreaming it together, watching Marigold smile as though she could see what he described as he moved through this imaginary house, was already very special.

  “You forgot something,” she said quietly, and walked to the side of their ‘bedroom.’ “Right here, we need another door.”

  “We do?”

  “Yes. To the nursery.”

  He needed a second or two to make sense of the word, simply because he’d never thought about this before—he’d never allowed himself to think about it, simply because it seemed like such a remote possibility. Now, though…

  Coming back to Marigold, he gently cupped her face in his hand and kissed her.

  It struck him suddenly that they were talking about the future so easily when not that long ago she was locked in her own mind, unable to say anything at all. It felt a little like a dream, and certainly too good to be true.

  When he said so aloud, Marigold took both his hands in hers and considered him for a long moment, her head tilted to one side. She looked utterly adorable like this, and he had a hard time refraining from kissing her again, especially when her oh so serious expression softened into a smile. He didn’t try to read her thoughts, but took comfort in the calm bathing her mind right now.

  “Why should you be so surprised?” she asked in a gentle voice. “You’re the one who drew me out after all. The only one who could have, maybe, because you’re my mate.” Her brow furrowed suddenly as she added, “Or are you my mate precisely because you’re the only one who could have reached me where I was?”

  Drawing her closer, he wrapped his arms around her, though he was careful not to hold her too tightly—not to make her feel trapped.

  “I don’t know,” he said despite his tight throat. “That’s a question for philosophers, too complicated for me. I’d rather keep things simple.”

  “Simple like what?” she asked, her big brown eyes looking up at him with just a flash of the golden pupils of her dragon.

  “Simple like, I think I love you.”

  A smile bloomed on her lips, brighter and wider than any smile she’d offered him so far. She didn’t say anything, but the words and feelings were right there, inscribed in the curve of her lips, in her dimples, in the gleam of her eyes, in the way her hands fisted in his tee-shirt as she drew herself up to the tip of her toes until she could lay her mouth upon his once more.

  EPILOGUE

  With both hands resting on her belly, Marigold could feel the baby tap-dancing from both the inside and out. He or she—they’d asked not to be told but she was sure it was a boy—was always most active at night, when she tried to sleep, and during the day when Marigold worked through her breathing exercises.

  The doctor had recommended those, and given her files of zen music to help her prepare for the birth, but she found the soothing music was also good to put her in a meditative state. Combined with the sight of the meadow spreading out at her feet, the music kept her relaxed, sometimes even during those less and less frequent moments when old memories wanted to resurface and wreak havoc in her mind once more.

  In those instances when the music wasn’t quite enough, the same phone that played the music allowed her to contact Chris with just the touch of a finger. His new job kept him busy, but Lily Littlewings had proved to be quite understanding when he needed to leave unexpectedly. He hadn’t needed to in two months, now; Marigold’s record. She hoped to keep extending it, little by little. She saw it as her job, her contribution to Sanctuary: if she allowed herself to regress, she’d take Chris away from his work, but if she could keep herself under control, he could do his part to keep them all safe. Maybe someday she’d be able to do something actually productive, but until then she could try not to be counter-productive.

  It was the middle of the afternoon already, and she was waiting for Isolda to come back from school. Until a few weeks ago, she’d often walked to meet her there at the end of classes, enjoying the exercise, but the walk had become a bit too much with her growing belly. And besides, Isolda had recently found a new, faster way to come home…

  Marigold heard the electric bike before she could see it come up the driveway, but not that much earlier. Its finely tuned engine didn’t make much noise at all.

  For the longest time, the boy, Alex, had been ‘just a friend,’ or so Isolda reminded them every time his name came up in the conversation. But lately, she’d stopped adding this qualification when she mentioned him. Marigold suspected that they’d need to have a talk about the bird and bees soon—or in this particular case, about dragons and foxes.

  Alex didn’t stay today. From the corner of her eye, Marigold could see Isolda get off the bike, and start to stalk away, only for Alex to catch her hand and hold her back. They exchanged a few words, but soon Alex was riding away, while Isolda came over and plopped herself at Marigold’s side, leaning her cheek against her shoulder.

  “What’s wrong?” Marigold asked softly, caressing her sister’s hair.

  “Nothing,” Isolda said with a little too much strength to be believable. She sighed. “Alex just doesn’t understand why I want to do basic training. He keeps telling me it’s too dangerous. But it’s just training!”

  “It’s not the training he’s worried about,” Marigold said softly. “It’s what you’ll do with that training.”

 
Sitting up, Isolda rested her elbow on her knee and propped her cheek in her hand, turning to observe Marigold with narrowed eyes.

  “Are you worried too?” she asked. “You know Idris said he won’t let me join his team until I’m at least twenty.”

  “I know.” Marigold gave her a sad smile. “But I also know you really want to fight. And I suspect Alex knows it too.”

  “The recruiter said I’d probably just have guard duty,” Isolda murmured, looking out at the meadow. “You know, just standing on the walls and making sure no one tries to invade again.”

  Marigold didn’t say anything. The military had sent tanks, and they’d sent jets. In both cases, dragons had been a formidable first line of defense for Sanctuary. The idea that Isolda wanted to be ‘just a guard’ was far from reassuring. And yet… Better this, she supposed, than for Isolda to cower in fear.

  “You’ve got time before you’re old enough for basic training,” she said softly. “A good six months before your birthday.”

  “Time enough to change my mind?” Isolda retorted bitterly. “That’s what Alex said too.”

  “No, love. Time enough to make him see how important this is for you.”

  The look Isolda threw her was one of pure gratitude. She stayed a little longer with Marigold before announcing she had to go work on some essays for school. Marigold watched her go to the house, her heart full of pride and worry.

  It was almost two hours later that Chris finally came home. He didn’t say a word, but he laid a kiss to her temple and in that simple touch told her all about his day, from its victories to the frustrations it had brought. There were too many of those, lately.

  Until just a few months ago, he’d been working at the high school, happily teaching Social Studies and Language Arts to teens. She used to love hearing him explain all the fun activities he came up with to teach abstract or complicated concepts to his students. But a week after the summer vacation had started, right as they’d started decorating the nursery in shades of yellow and with paintings of all sorts of fantastical creatures on the walls, Lily Littlewings had come to visit them.