Chapter Text
The hint of blood lingering within the crannies of the stone's sigil had been taunting Ellis. Only minutes after he'd bled on it on a warm and quiet afternoon, he'd come to his senses and tried to scrub it clean as if that could undo whatever he'd just done. He'd ruined the edges of his sleeve in the process and still hadn't managed to get all of the blood out, leaving it to grow stale and spread traces of rust. It'd been over a week and he hadn't had the courage to even move the damn thing again, so it lay on his nightstand in silent mockery.
With each passing day, the hope that nothing had changed grew. After all, how reliable could a stone be as a means of messaging? It'd been so long that the cut he'd made on the tip of his index finger had healed just enough not to feel terribly sensitive against the makeshift bandage. However it remained a constant reminder of his blunder: its desperate and awkward placement made it sting whenever Ellis applied too much pressure with his hands. If it weren't for the intermittent pain, he could almost forget he'd given in.
In fact, he'd almost managed to forget it by the time he was taken from hazy dreams in the middle of the night; the air inside his bedroom was as stale as in any other summer night, but a tiny drop of water fell on his cheek. It made him stir under the sheets and grow restless enough to register words: "Are you safe?"
Morgiah's voice. He was used to hearing it in dreams, but couldn't recall it being so harsh; it had the force of a hit to the chest, enough to make him gasp for air and open his eyes to utter darkness. As if the room itself had heard his thoughts, tiny lights sprinkled into being against the ceiling, all soft and star-like. Then there was another drop of water on his cheek and he flinched, eyes refocusing on the shadow leaning directly above him: Mor. Her bangs were clumped up and clinging to her sweaty forehead and whatever he could see of the rest of her hair was just as wet. "What?" Ellis mumbled, forcing himself to sit up and take a deep breath. It felt too real to be a dream, but had the sluggishness of one.
"You called me," she said, standing up straight. Her clothes made it seem even more like a product of his imagination: surely the Mor he knew wouldn't be dressed so alike border patrol, padded cloth coat, thigh high leather boots and all. Under the clothes, her demeanor remained familiar, however. She was looking straight at him with wide eyes and slightly bent knees, as if something could leap at her at any second. "You bled on the stone," she said, pointing at the evidence on his nightstand.
Only then did he come to terms with the fact that he was indeed awake. "Oh. Yeah, uh... I did." He clutched the bundle of cloth he'd been clinging to harder and a chill ran through his body, cold enough to make him go completely still. She'd see it. She'd see that he'd gone to sleep hugging the nightgown she'd forever ruined for any other guest, all grass and dirt stained. With the back of his other hand, he rubbed his lips as an excuse to stay quiet.
"I came as fast as I could," she said, still unmoving. "It's a long trip from the central plains. Are you okay?"
The words were almost nonsensical. He wasn't sure if he was simply too tired or if they meant what he thought they did. "I'm sorry, I... I guess I didn't think I'd make you waste that much time." As discreetly as he could, he slid the nightgown further ahead under the covers so he could later kick it to his feet. The burning in his cheeks made it impossible to face her.
"It's not a waste of time, Ellis." She spoke slowly and the depth of her voice gave him a full-body shudder that only served to make him even more ashamed. "What can I do for you?"
How had she even gotten inside? Every door and window was locked, yet she'd appeared over his bed offering her services like some kind of folk tale trickster. "That's why it's a waste of time. Actually, there's nothing wrong." He joined his hands over his knees and tried to will his fingers to stop trembling.
"You called me for a reason." Not looking at her took so much out of him that his neck felt sore simply from not moving.
"I was just... lonely. A little pathetic. Sorry."
The huge sigh she let out made them finally cave and look at her; she was slumped over with her hands on her legs, fingers sliding down her thighs to find support on her knees. Watching closely, he realized her whole body trembled slightly. "That's good," she said and then sharply inhaled and added: "Not that you're sad, but that you're not hurt. I'd never have... It doesn't matter. You're alright."
No, she hadn't materialized in his room like a trickster; rather, she looked like she'd just run up the mountain. As she bent over herself, sweat dripped from her hair all over the floor. While he thought of what to say, he heard the dripping and her breathing start to slow down. "You must be tired," he mumbled, his hands reaching out to her before he could help himself. He stopped just shy of touching her arm and held his arms out instead. "Come here?"
"Into bed?" she asked, pitch breaking up a little. When he nodded, she threw her grimy hair back and just caught her breath for a while longer. "I'm filthy. I know you care about your sheets."
But it wasn't like her to care. In fact, the sheepish way she averted her eyes was suspicious. Ellis' stomach plummeted. Of course most people would have gotten over a crush in a year, even if she'd poured her heart out the last time they'd met. His face burnt even hotter. "I miss you more than I care about them," he admitted in a whisper. Withholding his wants when she'd apparently come all the way from half the continent over would be unforgivable.
Though he was staring at his lap, he heard her abruptly shimmy out of her dull green coat and the distinct thump of heavy boots on the floor; after it came the buckle of her belt being undone before it also fell along with what sounded like a lot of thick cloth. The sound was muffled by his own heartbeat and he clutched at his nightshirt as if that would slow it down. "Can I take this off too?" Mor asked, forcing him to look back at her; she was tugging at her red tunic, which reached her thighs. He could see the collar and sleeves of a tight shirt beneath it, so the question seemed dumb.
"Yeah?" When she did lift it over her head, he realized she wasn't wearing any pants; all that was left was her undergarments and thick stockings. "Oh, you wear underwear now," he mumbled in an attempt to drown out the even louder sounds of his heart. Still trying to keep calm --- he had, after all, just ruined over a week of her time ---, he averted his eyes to his own hands again.
"They told me to," she grumbled and he could faintly see a small naked patch of her thighs as she circled over to the other side of the bed.
"Who's they?" The question came too fast for him to bite down.
"My superiors," she said just as annoyedly while lifting the covers and crawling into bed. Soon she'd settled on her side and he knew she was staring at him; it took a lot of effort to look back into her attentive eyes and lay down fully as well.
"What, did you become a servant or something?" The idea made bitterness coat his tongue. Why would she leave him or the rift behind when the alternative was being worked to the bones? Rationally he knew she had a right to choose, but something about the implication that he was more hurtful than the grueling routine of a field worker in the Valleys was too much to bear.
Her usual impish snickering made him relax. He'd almost forgotten that that was a sound she made and hadn't realized he'd missed it sorely either way; it resonated within him, tingling through his body. She was there, smiling at him, just inches away; one of her hands cradled her head from beneath the pillow and the other rested on the bed between them, almost as if daring him to touch it. "No, I wouldn't last a day. I'm in a weird spot with the Ashen military, actually."
"Fuck." He should have noticed what her layers of clothing and all those belts meant. Awareness shot through his body fast enough to make his muscles jump, hands pushing faintly against the mattress as if he should get up any second. "Aren't you gonna get in trouble for just leaving the country like that?"
She snickered again. "I'm not bound by martial law. I have some leverage you shouldn't think about too much. Besides, how will they know I left?" The smile softened until it wasn't there anymore; her expression turned stern again, wide eyes staring into his. "I would never tell them there are people I care about anyway."
"You still care about me?" Barely a whisper, but he still almost choked on the words. His hand twitched, far too close to hers.
She blinked. "Obviously. Well, I would have come even if I didn't. But yes." Would she? That certainly made her a much better person than him. Regardless, there was no way to ignore it: the way she spoke to him hadn't changed, nor had her willingness to admit to her feelings. Ellis had been the one to create the hurdles, hadn't he? Even after she'd spelled it out, it hurt to think about. His eyes stung and his throat suddenly seemed clogged; he had to breathe through his mouth and a small whine escaped him, making him shrink into his pillow. The way Mor leaned forward surely meant she'd caught it. "Ellis?" she whispered, a feather-light touch on his hand making him notice her index finger brushing against his. "Can I touch you?" It came out loud and clear, so unexpected that he breathed in sharply through his mouth again.
"Please," he said with a shudder, suddenly so cold it was as if the word had undressed him by itself. It'd sounded too needy, too raw, too much; but it had also sounded accurate and it'd been too long to settle for anything less than just right, no matter how cold it felt in those seconds afterwards.
It wasn't cold for long. Soon her arms were wrapping around him without any care for his own range of movement, pulling him onto her damp chest and squeezing him so tight he couldn't breathe. Ellis wheezed and she relaxed the hold a little bit, just enough to allow him to go limp in it and rest his hand on her waist. As innocent as it'd been, it sent a jolt through him, making his whole body tense up against hers; her shirt was far too tight, perfectly outlining the skin below. Each breath he took brought with it the sheer stench of her and, as desperately as she needed a bath, he buried his face on the crook of her neck and whimpered. How exactly had she gotten there so fast? Had she really overexerted herself just for him? When had she last rested? Suddenly her hand was wrapped around the nape of his neck, fingers firmly planted on its side; the pressure tore another shameful noise out of him. "You feel so good," she mumbled into his hair and the vibration of her voice alone was enough to make him restless.
"You should sleep," he said, too aware of his lips brushing against her salty skin, "instead of teasing me."
"I didn't think I was teasing you," she replied instantly, the fingers that had been calling his attention to his exposed throat entrenching themselves in his hair; there, her fingertips softly pressed into his scalp. He pressed his eyes tightly shut and tried to glue his body to hers and just melt away. "I thought I was just misbehaving. It's hard to handle myself when you're so..."
"So what?" He was holding onto her waist so hard his fingers ached.
"It would have been teasing too," she said, caressing him.
The burn of frustration spread across his chest, irradiating to his arms and making him pull her hips even harder against his. Knowing he was a step away from grinding against her was a little too much, so he bit his lip in an attempt to cool down. It didn't quite work. "Maybe I don't want you to handle yourself. Maybe it wouldn't be... misbehavior." He was interrupted by a gasp when she parted his legs forcefully to push one of hers in between them.
"Were you this horny when you bled for me?" As literal as it was, the phrase made him hotter for some reason. He pushed his lips to her skin to muffle whatever sound would next come out of him and refused to answer, knowing she could feel how hot his face was right on her neck. "We should talk tomorrow." He simply whimpered, pushing himself against her conveniently placed thigh. "And not fuck right now is what I mean. I'm being responsible since you just went ahead and told me I didn't need to be, so... sleep."
"You don't want to?" It was time to fully embrace how pathetic the question made him look, even if it was only a whisper at the base of her ear. Her hands twitched on him, holding him harder for a split second --- enough to make him smile.
"You have no idea." It sounded like it'd come out through gritted teeth, followed by a groan. She pressed her thigh harder against him and the friction rolled through his spine and made him gasp into her skin. "But you know what I mean." When Ellis just whimpered again, her hand wandered to the top of his head and pushed him hard against her neck as if to shut him up. "Don't make it harder. I'm here, so sleep. I'll be here when you wake up. I'll be here." Her voice slowly became softer and softer until it was nothing but gentle noise whispered into his hair. He tried to let the tension go in a long sigh and relaxed his grasp on her. Regardless of how warm and solid her presence was, it'd take a long while for him to slow down and fall asleep.
Even though she'd managed to fall asleep much faster than he had, Ellis woke up before both the sunrise and Mor. The reality of the situation had faded into blissful background as he'd slept in her arms and, waking up to his darkened room and her hot and damp body glued to his, it was pulled to the forefront. For a while he simply stared back at her, the weight of her arm over his chest making him too aware of his altered breathing; there was no sensation there to experience that wasn't filled by her, including smell. If he struggled to move for much longer, he was sure he'd simply give into the urge of snuggling up to her and falling asleep again. Tentatively he freed one hand to cast a trembling fairy light, but it took him a couple of tries. Then he tried to wiggle out of her arms, to which she groaned and clamped down around him as if he was a pillow. An equally annoyed meow made him realize the cat had found its way into the bed at some point as well.
Ellis did manage to free himself, but he'd had to give up on being gentle. In the end it hadn't made much of a difference: she'd grumbled and stirred with a frown, but hadn't woken up at all. Though he was grateful, it was unusual enough to be concerning. With the aid of the light, he stopped by the edge of the bed and gave her a good look: she was even grimier than he'd noticed, dirt sticking to the unwashed oily skin of her face and her clothes thick with sweat. Her outstretched hand, which had been intent on clinging to him, was much cleaner than usual though. Ellis managed to tear himself away from her and get dressed properly for the day; while he tied his sleeves up neatly, he eyed the pile of clothes she'd taken off before getting into bed with him.
On the very bottom was the familiar navy fabric of her cloak; then were the long boots haphazardly thrown about, the scarcely marked leather making him believe they were new. He crouched and carefully separated the pieces of clothing to make it all out: the leather belts with tied additions to carry a short sword, a carving knife and a flask, then a thick piece of cloth armor in the form of a green coat that desperately needed a wash, chainmail --- chainmail? --- and the red tunic. A weird tingling overtook the tip of his ears and he warily glanced up at her, but she was still peacefully asleep. Well, not quite peacefully; she seemed to always look annoyed while sleeping. Expensive equipment. He'd even bet the boots had been crafted specifically to her measurements.
Before the unease fully took hold, he stood up and walked away from the pile and the bedroom in general. Whatever weird spot she'd gotten into with the Ashen kingdom, it was weirder than he wished to learn about. Maybe if he didn't, it wouldn't ever matter. It probably wouldn't matter regardless; after all, would they even see each other again after that day? He gritted his teeth while he ground some coffee and tried to make the thoughts fade. More often than not, all they did was wear him out before he even got through all he wanted to do. Despite his wishes, they still buzzed around in his mind like insistent mosquitoes: what had she meant when she'd told him she had 'leverage' against the Valleys?
It weighed on him like some kind of bad omen, no matter how much he tried to brush it off. Regardless, the weight seemed much lighter when he thought of how she'd look at him once she woke up. Actually, the weight lightened so much Ellis was scared of floating away and forgetting whatever he'd been about to do. Such thoughts were much more entertaining than wondering about what she'd been up to, after all. There was no use in pretending the truth of it would sway him, whatever it was; not when all he could picture was the way she'd pressed him onto her thigh the night before, which was more than enough to make him hot under his collar.
The only cold spots within him came from the idea that the room might be empty the next time he peeked into it. Each time he looked through the gap in the curtains or the door and saw her resting shape just where he'd left her, relief ran through him like a wave. Even if he did that more than a handful of times throughout the morning and rationalized that she wouldn't leave so soon after traveling for so long, the pleasure of re-discovering her presence hit him hard. So hard, in fact, that his hands were jittery while he prepared lunch; it made for shoddy knife work and the bandage on his mostly recovered finger was a necessary reminder to stay focused, even if all he needed to chop was vegetables.
Though it was well past noon by the time that the soup was done, Mor was still asleep when he brought the breakfast tray into the room with two bowls on it. He silently set it aside on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers tingling under the prospect of waking her up; it evolved into bubbling within his chest and he had to swallow hard to feel like he was even able to speak. "Mor?" he risked, but there was no response. It was enough to encourage him to try harder and it did take some gentle shaking of her shoulder to make her eyelids flutter open. "I've never seen you so sleepy," he mumbled, lying on his side to smile at her from up close.
"Mm," she mumbled before grumbling some more and rubbing her eyes with unnecessary force. She kicked herself up against the wall, neck barely sustaining her head; Ellis held her shoulder to help ease her into sitting. "It's not unexpected."
"You look sick," he said, reaching over to the nightstand to retrieve the tray and place it between them. As silly as it was, his heart beat faster when he wondered if she'd missed his cooking.
"No, it's more like... When you exercise too much and push your body."
"You're sore?"
"Magically sore, yes. I burned through too fast. That never happens to you?" Her eyes widened when he offered her the soup and her hands sluggishly came up to accept it; she rested the bowl on her lap and immediately went for the spoon instead of simply tipping it into her mouth like she used to.
"Not really." It took some effort on his part to simply sit down and eat alongside her; though it was past his usual lunch hour, his body was in such disarray that he wasn't sure if he was hungry yet. "Was it just because of me?"
"Yes, but no. It was a choice." She carefully picked out a piece of chicken with the spoon and put it into her mouth; then she paused and just chewed with her eyes closed for a moment, the hint of a smile on her lips. Ellis almost choked. Why had he thought she'd be gone already? Right there, she looked so... at ease. "So if you blame yourself I'm going to be seriously pissed off, alright?" Her voice was as serious as ever though she'd continued eating casually while uttering the threat.
"I... Sorry. I know it's awful, but... I'm happy. That you came all this way just for me. It's bad. I know. It just..." He looked down and into his soup, unable to continue eating; the liquid within the bowl slightly trembled to the same rhythm as his hands.
"I was waiting for an excuse to see you. Actually, you calling me like this is the best one I could have gotten." The matter of fact way she'd put it made them hold their breath and look up to see her licking the spoon. Her eyes caught his and she continued what she'd been doing as if it weren't odd at all.
His heart swelled up inside his chest and he wasn't sure if he could keep talking. "Mor," he tried to speak anyway, but found himself choking the sounds back. She put her empty bowl on the nightstand beside her and fully turned to face him. Having all of her attention didn't make it easier. "You were right," he forced the words out in a shaky voice. "I'm sorry."
"Right about what?" She blinked, no change in her expression whatsoever.
Even breathing was suddenly hard. Ellis shivered and set his bowl aside as well, though he hadn't finished his portion yet. After taking in a desperate breath, he let it out slowly and slid closer to her. When she didn't move, he cautiously laid his head on her shoulder, another wave of relief hitting him when she took her hand to his chin and just held his face there. "I'm a mess and I didn't want to look like it," he mumbled. Because he knew that wouldn't be enough, he had to get even closer and bury his face in the crook of her neck, no matter how greasy her hair was. "I put you down to look right, because if you looked up to me I wouldn't... I don't know. I guess I thought you'd stay. It was stupid and, worst of all, I hurt you."
"Ah, yeah. You're really silly. It's good that you see that too." Then her hand slid up his neck to wrap around the back of it and tug Ellis down and onto her lap forcefully, maneuvering him easily and without a care. Suddenly he was exposed, head laying on her thighs and her eyes on his. His breath hitched and he was sure he'd yelped in the process. "You kind of always tried to do shit the hard way. Like, I told you back then that you didn't have to tell me stuff if it made you sad, but you still made shit up instead of saying no to me straight. Like you wanted me to actually think you were just spoon deep and keep me away."
No, she hadn't changed at all since the last time. Her rambling reminded him of the last one far too much --- the one about how talking sex with him was easier than any other conversation. Ellis had taken far too long to come to terms with that one: a year, even. She was right to shove it in his face, but the phrasing still made him smile. "I guess I was worried you'd leave if you knew how fucked up I am. But that's not why you left in the end, so... I see."
"It's just a little funny that you'd think you have to impress me of all people. We're all fucked up, Ellis. I am clearly fucked up too. It'd have hurt much less if you'd been upfront about it." She idly traced his nose with a fingertip; then she circled back to his cheekbones, eyes following closely. Something about how easy it looked for her made him even more restless.
"I know. I just... wasn't ready to look like that in front of you. But you saw the worst bits anyway."
"I wanted all the bits, you know. You're supposed to be a mixed bag. Does that make sense?" Her finger now brushed over his lips slowly and parting them to answer made his insides cold, like his tongue would somehow brush against it. Fortunately it didn't, but part of him wished she'd choked him as a punishment of some kind. No, he really needed to get his thoughts under control.
"Yeah. Thank you, Mor." He stopped to swallow hard and her hand rested on his cheek, thumb just vaguely touching his lips. "For coming anyway. I didn't mean to make you rush over though."
"Mm, yeah. If you're going to make a habit out of calling me over to fuck, we should add some other triggers to the sigil so I can differentiate."
His thoughts slowed down, unable to fathom the gap between her words and her calm demeanor. Even as his mouth went agape and his heart skipped a beat, she looked at him like she hadn't said anything out of the ordinary. Her hand seemed to burn his skin and he had trouble swallowing. "I really didn't say anything like that," he said, trying to sound just as casual.
"I thought you might be in the mood considering how you were grinding on me until I fell asleep." Almost as if she was bored, she hooked her thumb into their mouth, resting it on the inner side of his cheek, and leaned closer. Unable to even consider biting her, Ellis went limp on her lap and just whined in protest. The blood rushing through his body was even louder than his heartbeat. "Has that changed?" she asked, tugging to open his mouth even wider. Her gaze was transfixed somewhere within and he started wondering if there was something wrong with his tongue.
"No," he mumbled, flinching when his tongue did brush against her salty thumb.
"So that's why you're just surrendering to me, huh. You want me to pin you under me and mark you all over again, don't you?"
Had she really just been testing him? In any case, her hand didn't budge and he found that he couldn't turn his face either; her thumb remained firmly within his mouth, her fingertips lodged on his neck. He joined his hands over his chest, suddenly too conscious of them --- there was nothing he could possibly do to feel less exposed, even if he desperately wanted to hide the fact the interrogation already had him hard. "Are you mad at me? For throwing myself at you the second you walked in?" There was little range of motion for his tongue, so the words were completely mangled. However, she smiled --- a smile that made him shudder ---, so she must have understood them.
"In a pent up way," she said, the smile growing into a grin. She clutched him tighter and bent down closer, eyes glimmering. He gasped for air and a cold breeze ran down his body, once again like a bad omen. "But I'm only interested in fucking if you let me have you whole. Like you never let me."
Her voice had lost any resemblance to the attempt of kindness it'd carried the night before; if anything, there was a cutting edge to it. She sounded gleeful even when he whined under her. "How exactly?" Ellis pleaded, almost feeling like he was buying himself time.
"I need you to be honest about what you want. Don't hold back on me. Do you think you can do that?" Still gripping his neck, she pulled it forward, propping his chin up; it made his throat stick out, completely exposed. Then her free hand dragged itself up his shirt lazily to rest there, hot on cold. She still smiled and there was an almost knowing look to her eyes.
"I want to," he whispered, dreading the way his eyes stung.
"Good." Then she let out a long sigh and lowered herself so close to him he could barely breathe; she just lingered there, touching the tips of their noses with her eyes closed. "Fuck, you mess me up. I'm trying to tease you, but when you look at me like that I can't keep it together."
His whole body grew tense and he propped his feet up on the mattress to try and push himself even closer to her; if he tried really hard, he'd surely be able to touch his lips to hers. Yet all he accomplished was choking on her hands. Her eyes shot open and she firmly readjusted her grip; hot hope flourished within him only to be crushed when she pinned them back on her lap. "When I look at you how?" he asked with a sly smile, unable to fight it back.
"Like I can just fucking touch you like this and you'll just lay back and smile. Yes, just like that." Oh, she'd noticed. Even if she had, he couldn't stop; he had to swallow down a giggle. "It's like I forgot how pretty you are. I didn't think I had, but now that I'm looking at you, it doesn't even make sense."
"Oh, gods." He took in another shuddering deep breath, relishing in the pressure her fingers still applied to him. "Do you mean it?"
"What?" She paused and scanned his eyes before smiling again. "I did forget you were this stupid. You're worried because you're twenty-seven now, aren't you?"
"I can't believe you kept track of my age. That's mean."
"You're pouting at me," she said with a quiver of her lip; then she paused to breathe again and pulled away from him. "I mean it, Ellis. You're pretty and I need a bath."
"No, no, no... Wait," he pleaded, squirming against her hands in fleeting hope that her resolve to keep them pinned down would return. Unfortunately, she loosened her grasp on him. "Doesn't it make more sense to bathe after we've fucked?"
"No. I haven't cleaned up in days, Ellis. It's bad." Without paying any mind to his show of trying to hold onto her, she slid away and stood up. as if he wasn't even there, she grabbed the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head and away from her arms without a care; he got to see the intricate muscles of her back at work as she got rid of it. He stopped completely and just stared at her as she removed her stockings and the dirty piece of underwear.
"You've been working on your legs more," he mumbled with bated breath, unable to avert his eyes from her ass. His whole face burned.
"They make me," she grumbled. "They make me do so much useless shit. Like swords." She was already walking around the bed; she only paused to throw the dirty clothes onto the pile she'd already created before she stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder.
"It's not useless. You look hot." Her seeming bewilderment made him giggle and kick his feet behind him. Ellis realized he should have given into admitting such things long ago, if only for that look in her eyes.
She scoffed and threw the door open. "I don't train to look hot. Are you coming or what?"
Still giddy, he stood and followed her to the washroom; he almost clutched at his heart when he noticed that the tips of her ears had gone red.
As hot as his face was, Ellis managed to keep it together while Mor bathed. At least she'd allowed him to wash and comb her hair, which was a needed distraction for his hands. "You got a haircut," he pointed out while sectioning her finally clean hair.
She had her knee held up so she could scrub the back of her leg and it took a moment for Ellis to realize she'd gone through the extra effort of staying put so he could keep his hands on her hair. "They made me," she grumbled again.
A faint chuckle came through his lips only to be followed by a sigh. He was growing tired of the phrase. "It's not a very military haircut though."
"It's a compromise," she mumbled and, as he worried over her well-trimmed bangs, he noticed her eyes were closed.
"If you're taking orders out of your own accord and you obviously don't enjoy any of it, what are you even doing?" he said in a much softer tone while he idly brushed through her wet hair with his fingers even though he'd already finished with it.
Mor let out a long sigh and let her leg go. Before switching to the other, she raised her closed fist and started counting off her fingers. "One: I promised you I'd change my lifestyle. Two: debts are irrelevant when seeing them through doesn't matter to me, but I have a long-standing one to the Ashen court." While looking back at Ellis through narrowed eyes, she raised a third finger. "Three: at some point paying the debt off became interesting and I scarcely recognize myself."
She'd talked continuously with no variation, almost as if she'd gone through those exact points countless times before. The idea that Mor could have unpaid dues to people so powerful they were only vague entities in Ellis' mind was weird, of course. However, it was so weird that it bordered on abstract. "Sounds like you have it all figured out," he decided to tease in a singsong way instead of elaborating. With a smile, he pressed a caress behind her ear; it made her flinch. "I don't recognize the you that trims your hair because people told you to either. I bet you hiss at them."
"No. Well, no. I didn't think I did, but apparently I did and that got me in trouble a few times." Her composed manner of speaking faded quickly; her eyes widened and she averted then.
Though Ellis still smiled, something about her admitting she had to suppress the mannerisms he'd grown to miss tugged at his heartstrings. The idea itself made him feel even older than he'd felt when he'd realized a year had passed. "When I told you not to go back to what you were doing before, I didn't think you'd turn to something even sketchier." He paused to take a deep breath and brace himself for the next words. "You know, Jay and Helen told me they thought you'd want to stick around the rift and you'd have been welcome."
Mor went still, her hands pinned to the bottom of the bathtub. All Ellis could do was wait for her to say something, so he did. Slowly she went back to washing and the words came along with the motion: "I never thought about that. I mean, it's me you're talking about. I never..." She paused and whipped her head back to Ellis, eyes wide again. "It's weird that I know they meant it. I guess it's just been so long I didn't even consider I might be welcome somewhere like that."
"You are. I bet it'd be much healthier than whatever debt you're paying too."
"Yeah, probably." She smiled and Ellis held their breath for a second. He'd never expected her to take kindly to such offers. "But as I said, this one matters to me. So I'm going to see it through."
"Will that be long?" he asked in a lower voice, a little scared that she'd pick up on his motivation.
"I'll quit when I'm too old and weary to keep going." She shrugged and stood up, water running down her body to drip from her extremities.
His face turned cold and he stayed where he was, kneeling beside the bathtub. "Mor." She looked down at them with that neutral stare of hers. Though she always made it look like nothing concerned her, he knew there must be some kind of conflict behind her eyes. There had to be. "Are you seriously saying that doing chores for the military of a country that isn't even your homeland means something to you?"
"If you put it like that, then it might make more sense to you if I put it like this..." She paused to reach for the towel before continuing: "The payment of my debt is an affront to the country that is, in fact, my homeland. I don't see it like this, but it's still the truth. Does that help?" She smiled softly and stepped out onto the bathmat.
He sighed, but no relief followed. "I guess that makes a little more sense." Still, there was very little that getting involved in a conflict between the Valleys and the Empire could ever bring to her. So he pressed his lips shut and decided to leave her to her weird rationale; then he stood and took the towel from her to pat her dry himself. There was no complaint: rather, she grinned at him.
"Are you peeved about it because you want to see me more often in the future? Be truthful."
Heat shot up to his face like an arrow, contrasting with the gloom that had settled in. When she snickered, he realized he'd been pouting and bit the insides of his cheeks to stop. "I've realized I can't demand anything from you. I'm just... happy you came back in the first place. I guess I'll be happy whenever you do." There was a weak spot in his throat as he spoke, like any sudden movement would crush it.
"That's not what I asked, Ellis." She held her arms open wide so he could keep drying her off. Still trying his best not to pout, he obeyed.
"Yes. Yes, I'm peeved. I hate that you're doing things you don't even want to do when I'd love to pamper you everyday." He'd started off strong, but his voice had lowered to rushed whispers by the time he was done. "But it is a me problem, so..."
That fragility in his neck was dispersed into thousands of needles and scattered away into vague hot dots when Mor's hands wrapped around it. "Yes, it is a you problem, pretty face," she whispered while she tugged him down and closer to her. "But I want to hear all about you problems. I'm happy you told me."
All he could answer with was a whimper. His sight was blurry for no reason at all, but he could make out her smile before she joined their lips. He'd expected the hungry attack he'd yearned for since she'd gotten there, but she was careful and gentle in her kissing like he couldn't ever remember her being. Loosely he clung to her waist and the damp towel between his hands served to separate them. As slow and deliberate as she'd been, it was a piercing shock when she nipped at his lower lip before backing away. With the tiny distance now between them, she realized she hadn't only been pulling him down to her, but also tiptoeing. "You're teasing me," he mumbled once her smile clicked within him.
More of that mean snickering of hers followed. "I've been thinking a lot about the first time we fucked," she said out of nowhere. Though that was enough to put a hitch in his breath, she continued: "I was wondering if those were actually all things you love having done to you."
The heat that bloomed within him was too sudden to cope with. The only word that came through the fog was: "What?"
"Making you masturbate and beg for praise," she said while one of her hands wandered down his chest, "binding you, fingering you until you can't think anymore and it's like you're going to die, not letting you cum and... marking you all over. Like you did to me that time. Thinking back, all of those are so... you."
Sharp pain flared up when she pinched his nipple over his shirt. Ellis shuddered and tapped his their forehead to hers, letting the sensation trickle through his body. "That's not..." She twisted his nipple with a turn of her hand, keeping a tight grip between her thumb and her index. Her eyes never left theirs and the room seemed to spin beyond them. "Doesn't mean I didn't love doing it to you."
"Not what I asked."
It was true. Before she could inflict more pain on them, they took a deep breath and confessed: "Yes. Yes, I do like having all of that done to me. I also did hope you would someday."
"I'm here now. Today." She must be tiptoeing again, because he could feel her lips brush against his.
"You still have a lot to learn about rope-" A hand over his mouth muffled his voice and he promptly stopped, accepting the interruption. He looked down to see that Mor was grinning again.
"I wasn't thinking about rope." She let him go and took more than a couple steps back, smiling all the while.
Though she was the one who was naked, not having her body to cover his left him cold and exposed. Before he could complain or even move, his wrists snapped together, effectively joining his arms in front of his body in a pleading stance. Ellis couldn't recall doing that. The minimal cold her absence had created became sheer frost when he tried to move his hand away from one another and met solid resistance, as if tangible walls were confining his movements. The still present smile on Mor's face helped slow down his suddenly frantic heartbeat, but not much else. "Are you... Is this... Telekinesis?"
"Mm, yes. Comfortable?" She had one arm crossed over her chest and her other elbow propped on it for support; though her free hand seemed to simply be idling in the air, Ellis realized it was, in fact, quite busy. When he tried to move with all his might, her raised index finger twitched.
"It's a little... terrifying."
"You want me to let go?" She tilted her head.
"No, I just... didn't think it could do this." Her tiny smile returned and Ellis took some long slow breaths in an attempt to relax. Knowing that she was watching over him and the restraints were imposed on him and not a sudden failure of his body was soothing. "So maybe a heads up next time. I thought I was losing it for a second."
"Sorry. Sometimes I forget you don't really interact with magic too much," she said and he could only see another faint movement of her fingers before he'd twirled on his heels and met solid warmth behind him. It took another moment to realize he was resting against her chest; suddenly the arm she'd crossed over herself was wrapped around him, her raised hand right by the corner of his eyes. "I can feel every tiny movement you try to make, so I'd say this is safer than rope." Her breath was hot and heavy on his neck as she spoke; somehow, it was hot enough to win out over the chill that had overtaken him before.
Letting go didn't send him tumbling to the ground. Rather, he melted into her and lost any concern of being dropped; oddly enough, it was like being held by a hammock. Once she'd planted a kiss on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, there was only one worry left: "Weren't you tired?"
"Not to call you weak, but I could pin you down like this forever." She spoke in a low voice and paused along the phrase to lay a trail of tiny kisses up and toward his neck. His shivering met a stable embrace no matter how intense it'd become.
"Liar," he managed to squeak out anyway. "You said you'd burnt through your magic."
She sighed onto his skin and he barely had time to yelp before finding himself on her lap. Unlike the other times she'd carried him, she didn't even bother distributing his weight properly; it still felt like he'd been tied up in a bundle. "It's cute that you worry about me." Just like that, she walked out of the washroom and he shivered even more upon realizing she was taking him to the bedroom. "I get the feeling that you never took the warnings about me seriously."
"I heard them, I just didn't really care."
"I noticed." Watching the ceiling pass him by had been making him dizzy, so he'd closed his eyes until he was dropped on the bed. The blankets were soft and clumped up under him, just as they'd left it. He'd almost forgotten he couldn't move, but it didn't matter: he felt so light he didn't even feel the need to. "Are you comfortable now?"
"Yeah." He opened his eyes to see her face hovering above, outlined by wet hair. When he realized she had her hands on either side of their head and her knees beside his hips, he whined loud enough to make him cower.
"And you remember the safeword?"
"Cease," he whispered.
"Good." She grinned and heat shot up his spine. Her face was so red that its many scars looked pale again.
Ellis only realized he'd fallen asleep upon waking up to the red light of sunset streaming in through the window behind him. His whole body was lighter than it usually felt; rather than the discomfort of tired muscles, he could make out precise spots of pain. As he mindlessly ran his hand over one of them --- right on his waist --- the memory of how it'd come to be there washed over him with sudden warmth. Yet Mor was nowhere to be found; before he could panic, he realized she'd taken the time to clean him up and put him in a nightgown while he had his little nap. Unlike when he'd drifted off, his thighs were nicely dry. He did shudder upon noticing that the nightgown she'd conveniently found to put on him was in fact her nightgown --- the one he'd been clinging to in his sleep the prior nights. Just imagining her reaction to that knowledge was enough to make his face hot again.
Wandering around barefoot in his own home searching for someone else was strange, like anything could be right by the corner. The weird tingle of novelty stuck to his tongue as he tasted the chill dusk air outside; it was intensified when he saw that the coop had already been closed for the night. His imagination ran amok with images of Mor mischievously doing all his chores while he was asleep even after how she'd exhausted herself to get there in the first place. At last he found her behind the washroom; she was draped in his clothes, wearing his slippers and carrying a large basket. All the heat that had been building up inside him flourished into flushed cheeks and trembling hands, effectively rendering him a hot mess again. He watched as she hung the clothes she'd arrived in up to dry with that patience that so rarely graced her. Considering how much patience she'd just spent in torturing him, it was odd that she still had any. The thought made him whimper again. No, actually, it'd been deliberate. He wanted her attention.
"I know, pretty face," she said, not even turning to look at him. Somehow he wanted her to, even though he knew how pathetic he looked while he trembled in that thin nightgown; it was so see-through that he was sure she could see all the fresh marks she'd laid on him. "I know you didn't want to sleep so long. But I took care of the birds, so it's okay."
That forced him to remember that they'd been the one to teach her their routine tasks in the first place. All he could really do about that was pout and hope she'd look their way. "Mor..."
She did. As soon as her name left their mouth, she looked over their shoulder and offered them a tiny smile. The padded coat was thrown over her arms, waiting to be hung up. "You look so pretty and frail like that."
"Stop..." Even to their ears, it didn't come across as a truthful request.
"Are you upset that I left you by yourself?" she asked, turning back to the clothesline to finish her task with regained vigor.
"I just... I'm still..."
"Sorry. I didn't mean to." She raised the basket to show that it was now empty and trotted over to them. Her hand was soon on theirs and their head was placed against her shoulder again. The rush inside Ellis went still. "Maybe it was actually useful to work on my legs," she mumbled after a while of simply caressing their hair.
Just when they'd calmed down, she had to go and make them restless again. They whined against her neck and nipped at it, hoping it would be a big enough punishment. "Mine feel weak and it's your fault."
She snickered and they just appreciated the vibration on their hand, which was laid on her chest. "Come on, let's have dinner," she said before nipping at their ear in revenge.
Ellis eyed the clothes hanging behind her before nodding. He had to wonder if she'd decided to wash them so late on purpose. Surely she knew that they'd never dry during the cold night. As she led them inside with a hand on their sore waist, they thought that it was unlikely: Mor wasn't like them. She didn't need a ploy to tell them she wanted to cuddle or spend time with them. After all, she'd done it so many times already. Either way, it felt more romantic that she'd simply prioritized fucking them for hours over getting ready to leave.
"Ellis, can I ask you something?" Mor's sluggish voice came up out of nowhere; they could feel her breath on the nape of their neck.
They'd been ready to sleep, so silence had already taken over by that point. Naturally, the question made him open his eyes wide to the dark and hold onto her arms tighter. "Yeah?"
"I'm just really curious and you've been so chatty so I can't hold it in much longer." She'd said it in a borderline incomprehensible stream and it took him a while to decipher it. Her awkwardness made them chuckle despite how tense he'd become; even after all she'd done to him earlier, she could still be afraid of asking a question.
"Well, alright." He closed his eyes again.
"When did you stop taking Volcana seriously?"
He hadn't known what to expect, but that certainly hadn't been in the realm of possibilities. "What do you mean?"
"You're an Ashenite, born and raised, so I assume you must have taken it seriously at some point. Also because you seemed bitter about it, which I think you only would if it had meant something at some point." There was wavering in her tone, as if she was still unsure about whether or not she could bring it up. Knowing that it was their fault made their chest tighten.
They took a deep breath before thinking of a proper answer. "Yeah, it's impossible not to take it seriously. But it was always a little... off." There was much more to say, but they were all things he'd already pried apart with nails and teeth alongside Helen; even going through them long ago had been enough to tire Ellis of speaking on it for years. "I mean, even in the stories and songs it's off. Of course as a kid I only heard about what happened through those and I didn't see anything, but... even just through those, it was too much. Even if black magic or whatever was as bad as they said it was, what she did was too much. I thought so as a kid, but couldn't really say it. It was also too much that centuries later we... well, everyone still lives in fear of it happening again."
"But you're not scared anymore. You asked me to teach you." Though she'd spoken softly, he could tell she was still scared of asking.
"At some point I got too angry to be scared anymore. I mean, it was never black magic that fucked up my life. I..." Ellis took another deep breath and carefully turned within their embrace to face her, even if it was pitch dark. Her arms wrapped tighter around them. "Oh, do you... Do you remember last summer solstice?"
"Yeah."
He swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the knot in his throat. "When I was drunk and rambly, I was talking about my sister. Petra." Mor touched her forehead to his without a word. "I still remember you asked me if I had siblings way back when."
"It's okay," she whispered.
"Not really, but... Yeah, that was what made me angrier. She got consumption and everyone was just fine with letting her waste away, because that's just the cycle of life as Volcana sees it. Not even trying. Sure, that was easy for them when I was the one who'd always taken care of her." For a moment they clenched their jaw and pressed harder against her forehead. Mor simply pressed back and let them be quiet. "Anyway, you also asked why I ended up here. That's how. I thought I'd get to someone who knew vitality leeching, how you call it, before she died. I didn't. We only got this far. The funny thing is, I really sped up her death by making her handle this fucking weather." He found himself smiling; it'd been a while since he'd last recalled that little detail, so it tasted even more bitter.
"That's fucked up." For a moment, it was all Mor had to say. Ellis was stifling some laughter before they even realized it. "Sorry, if I knew it'd be so fucked up I'd have asked about it in the morning."
"It was a little overdue. It just gets tiresome, you know. Talking. It's fine." Though he didn't regret spilling his guts right then, he still felt hollow afterwards. His tongue had been left paper-dry.
"I get it. That it's tiresome, I mean. Volcana, though... It's astonishing that anger is not the most common response. What she created in Ashen culture is suffocating. Inescapable even. Um..." She paused and nuzzled them again, letting out a ragged sigh. "Sorry."
"Oh, you really don't know how to show you care, do you? You're so scared." When she shrank against him, he nuzzled her back. "It's okay. You managed to express it. It's also okay that you asked."
"Okay," she repeated. "Ellis? Another question?"
"Oh, how bold." She outright flinched within their arms and they scrambled to reassure her: "I'm joking! Joking! Ask away."
"I know I was playing confident earlier, but... are you really okay with how things are? Between us, I mean."
"You mean about today, or..."
"No. Well, that too if you're not okay. I didn't mean to assume. But I'm talking about me coming and going." Right then, her voice was so unlike the rough and stable version it'd been that afternoon: it was entirely soft and hesitant.
"If that's the only way I can have you around, then I'm fine. I prefer that over just not seeing you anymore." If that was the alternative, he was sure he'd learn to deal with the intermittent hurt of watching her leave. After all, loneliness was a constant in his life; having visitors every once in a while should be a source of joy, not more pain.
"Me too. Um... One last thing?" Her hands found his and clutched them, fingers entwined. Even though they hadn't been moving at all, her palms were sweaty.
"Yeah, Mor?" He held back a sigh.
"I love you. I know it's weird to keep saying this when I'll just leave, but I do. I want you to be mine." It had been aired exactly like a plea; there was distinct longing within her voice. The intensity made his heartbeat falter and suddenly his palms were sweaty too. Then his thoughts became too loud and almost too scrambled to make out. "I mean, I don't mean in a monogamy thing or something. I know that's not your deal. I mean... I'm already yours. There's this huge chunk of you in my memories and I'll never be able to leave it behind. It's like that part of me will always be yours. Like..."
Her uncertain voice had trailed off into her passionate rambles and it resonated within him so much he thought she'd just rearranged the rhythm of his heartbeat. He gripped her hands tighter and tried to breathe, suddenly all hot and cold --- though his chest was all cloudy warmth, his sweaty palms were cold on hers. If he could manage to move again, he'd kiss her. His lips tingled.
"And because so many things remind me of you... Really, the amount of times I think of you in a day is pathetic. I'm trying to say that I really hope you're mine in the same way, but it's not quite a hope, it's more... A yearning."
She was so silly. She'd called him silly so many times that day, but then she went and said the most heartfelt and ridiculous shit he'd ever even heard. Everything within him tossed and turned; it took too much effort, but he managed to pull her harder onto him and kiss her. The kiss sent them both into silence and, because it was unearned silence, Ellis pulled back and gasped for air. "Of course I'm yours like that. Of course. Gods. Do you get the marking thing now? What did you think you were doing to me?"
She held them so tight he thought she'd break his hands. "So you love me?"
"I love you, Mor." Before he could say anything else to try to match her confession, her mouth was on his again. As much as he still wanted to embarrass her with some cheesiness of his own in return, she was intent on kissing them. Her enthusiasm rubbed off on them with a taste of her tongue and they decided they had plenty of time to remind her of how much they actually loved her later.