#Leo proceeded to go strong the whole story so far and has asked out the Other adult character that shows up later Multiple Times

[keeps-ache]

i have learned Linkage :3

[shinglescat]

ooga booga

Previous stories here. Kanarielle’s character page here.

It’s been quite a few months already since the power transit already, and to everyone’s surprise Esmir not only did not mind it at all, she even welcomed the change with her arms wide open. She did protest once, however, at the start of it all, when her grandchildren expressed their demands for her - the old lady surely expected her grandson to take the reign just out of spite, not the fragile granddaughter; she voiced her concern, but they did not listen. Still, she was suspiciously okay with the turn of the events, and Mark guessed it was because of more of the available free time in her schedule for… debauchery and other side projects. Other than that, Esmir’s been insisting on them both showing off at a soiree, just to keep the nobility talking about them, sort of a power display, and Livaen planned everything out from there herself as the new head of the family, as the new Lady Sorano.

It wasn’t in his plans to go alone, yet the circumstances thought differently. Livaen managed to talk him into this, promising an easy evening and a “free-to-go” card after. As soon as he opened his mouth to agree on the occasion, his luck decided to go south - later the same evening Aspen had to leave him due to some “unforeseen events” in a complete urgency. Mark knew better than to ask, as it was near impossible to get anything out of the man, so he was left on his own until he met with an old friend of his again. The luck wasn’t on his side this time either; he had to attend the soiree alone anyways, even though he and his friend arrived together and even agreed on playing out a couple for the public to spare the elf from unwanted attention and unsolicited affection; the girl had to take care of a sudden matter at hand, so he left her in the Void to her own devices and proceeded with the gathering alone.

- Hope it went well, - she greeted him as soon as he showed up, notes of worry in her voice. She was modestly sitting on his bed, in one of the smaller residences of the family, watching him as he got upstairs, walked up to the bed and crashed into the sheets with his face down right beside her. Kana patted him on the back lightly, feeling of guilt making her cheeks turn red for leaving him like this alone, - I’m sorry you had to be there on your own tonight, - she quietly apologized, - Won’t happen again.

- It’s okay, don’t sweat it, - he raised his hand to stop her from saying anything else, mumbling into the bed, eyes closed, - Could’ve figured the luck wasn’t on my side, - he snickered, drained and overwhelmed with the spotlight he had to endure with no way for him to retreat. So much for the promised easy evening.

Kanarielle rolled her eyes.

- Man, if you aren’t a diva, - she reached his head with her hand, her nails scratching the scalp. The elf tensed up a bit, but then relaxed into the feeling, pleasure from the touch tingling at the nape of his neck, - You can complain now, please do begin.

Mark sighed loudly.

- Nothing to complain, - he took a moment to breathe in and out, to calm down the heart that was beating way too fast in his chest, - It was a ginormous lie. She promised an easy evening, but… I dunno, if that’s an easy evening for her, I’m dreading of the harder ones, - he turned on the spot, his back against the bed sheets, facing the elf girl, - There was a woman… Has to be from Livaen’s retinue. Very insistent and utterly… handsy, kept touching me the whole evening, - Mark groaned, remembering the altmer lady - Niluer, the touch of her fingers still lingering on his skin, her nails on his jaw as she tried to get his attention, - And I’m not mentioning the other ones that were eyeing me like I’m a piece of a fresh delectable meat or something. Felt like they were about to devour me alive.

The girl raised her eyebrow, chuckling.

- Oh boy, are they in for a surprise tomorrow, - she said, whispering, - when I’ll be the only one groping your ass in public… - Kana cheerfully slapped her knees in anticipation, nudging him with her elbow, obviously joking. Mark had none of that; he tried to push her away, grunting disapprovingly at the mental image, - Alright, alright, no groping, - she gently stroked his shoulder, adding in a small voice, - Though you are the piece of a fresh delectable meat, - her hands went up into his hair, fingers combing through it, - Thought no one’s gonna notice you return into the family? You are one helluva promising bachelor, – he whined, attempting once more to shove her off the bed. She slapped his tummy lightly in retaliation, - Oh, and let’s not forget your grandma! Anyone in their right mind would want to bask in her power, - Mark tried to say something, but she covered his mouth with a palm of her hand before he would voice anything, - They gon be fighting for your body parts, heart and hands, all that. BUT!, they are the least of your problems.

- And the big problems? – Mark forcefully removed the hand off his mouth, snorting and rolling his eyes.

This time she casually smacked him on his forehead, clap rather loud than painful, the sound muffled by cushions and furniture.

- You have a huge profit sign on your forehead, - Kana pointed her index finger right in between his brows, pressing it into the skin rather painfully, - that’s what I’m saying; they will use and do anything to get to you. And since Livaen is… you know, I’m not talking about her even here, this seems to summon her out of thin air – this makes you a better target.

- Ugh, don’t lecture me, - he brushed off her warning, knocking the hand away from the face, - Like I don’t know it, there are always the people who would suck a dick or two to get some benefits, - Mark looked at her, then shifted his gaze at the window. He tried to ignore the thought, dismiss it as if it was of no concern, tried to act tough, but his mind still lingered on the concept. With a sigh, he rubbed his eyes, set on steering the conversation away from him and the uncomfortable subject, - Was it the same in the Sanctuary? For you?

Kana shifted on the bed inelegantly, her entire spine stiffening up at the mention of the place. She looked nowhere.

-   No, not really, no, - she paused, reminiscing her own family, or rather those she used to call like that, - We’re far from nobility you saw there, though as far as I remember, - she hummed, biting her lip, memories resurfacing again after years of oblivion, - Mandil mentioned Bellaniel being a higher up member of the Falmeri society before the fall of the Snow Prince. We were more like a cult, I think, worshipping our blood and condemning the men, - Kanarielle snickered, - Imagine a club for old and bitter edgy elves – that’s us! It was similar for Ryl tho – Bellani intended on finding a party for her once she’s of age, marry her off to someone of their people, so they would “continue to carry on the legacy”, whatever that means, “of the last Snow Elves”, secluded in their own little world, of course, - something stirred inside her, and she paused, - Fuck, she’s probably married already, gotta have a kid, - her guts twisted unpleasantly, entire insides doing somersaults at once, a wave of nausea going up her throat. She tried to will it go away, but the awful feeling didn’t fade, - It’s been years since I last saw her. We were sixteen when I ran away, Mark, and Rylnir already had suitors courting her by that age, sucking up to Bellani, - the girl gasped for air loudly, as if suffocating, - They probably didn’t think of her anything but a hole in a piece of meat on the legs. We were just children, for fuck’s sake, but our fates were already decided for us.

Mark sat up straight.

- What about you? – he asked carefully, feeling uneasy, anxious of what she’s about to say, the memories likely distressing her.

- Dunno if I had it better, - she shrugged, leaning on his shoulder and hiding her face in the crook of his neck, - Ryl’s to become the next Matriarch once Bellaniel’s dead, and I was set to become the guardian to the realm. Bellani did everything to indoctrinate me, all that inspirational religious bullshit, and it honestly worked – I was bitter at men, at what they had done to us, - Mark hugged her by her shoulders, holding her tight against his side, feeling a faint shiver and a frequent, fast heartbeat, so strong it was reflecting in his own body, almost deafening. She was tense, her entire body stiff, ready to fight, - She played the “you’re the last of your kind” card, and I was dumb enough to fall to that. She poisoned me with hate, - the girl pulled back, looking into the elf’s eyes.

- You hate her too, - he whispered, cringing on the pain in his forearm, as she clung to it like to a lifeline, - No… You are afraid of her.

She sighed, releasing the arm from her grip, settling back on his shoulder. The fury, the anger she felt died out in a blink of an eye, replaced with an empty cold calm.

- I am, - her voice tranquil, - I used to hate her, now I’m just scared. She did everything to turn me into a willing vessel for Meridia, - she straightened her arm, reaching out into the air, green sparks swirling under her palm, - I was to become a purified, think you’re familiar what that means. She always talked about caring of all meri, but was only interested in the survival of her own kind, didn’t give a shit about anyone else. Leo was the last adult ayleid in the realm, and I was the only child of my “untimely deceased” ayleid parents. Isn’t it weird? – she glanced at him, puzzled, -  Guess she found it poetic.

Mark lowered them both onto the bed, still holding her in a hug, gently stroking her arm. Meridia again, huh, with a quest for an army of brain dead glowing vegetables.

- How did you escape?

- No clue, Mark, I swear. I was sitting in my chambers, talking to Mandil, then I blackout and later find myself swimming through a cave with a thing chasing me. Was scared shitless, but managed to get out, ended up at the western shore of Ilinalta, - she rose up above him, pointing at her silver eyes, - You know, I used to have blue eyes, but I guess she or… they tried to punish me for leaving, tried to make me blind. I thought I’m done for, but Jack found me, did some magic, restored my sight, - her voice sounded much more serene than a few minutes before, heartbeat no longer audible, - A few years later Bellani tried to bring me back, affecting me through dreams. Almost succeeded, too, but Jack intervened, pierced her through in one of the nightmares and sundered the connection to the Sanctuary. Hadn’t had them since.

- Shit, Rie, that’s….

- Now that’s the name I hadn’t heard in a while, - she laughed hopelessly, interrupting Mark before he would express his condolences, still towering above him. She looked sad, though the weak smile on her face tried to say something else, - Jack used to call me that, - the girl closed her eyes dreamy, as if she heard him call her again.

- What happened to him? You were so inseparable, - the elf inquired, pulling her back onto the bed.

- Yeah, were, but he grew distant, and I had to leave him, all that bubbly stuff, - she turned on her side, her head resting on Mark’s chest, - I loved him, otherwise I’d leave him sooner. It was hard to let go, but it was for the best. Him growing distant helped to sever the bond.

- Did he love you though? – Mark asked into the air, gently stroking her arm, eyes growing weary, fatigue steadily putting him to sleep.

- Don’t know. I think he was just attached, nothing more, we were never meant to be, - she laughed humorlessly, - He saved me though, and I’m grateful for it, would never make it to the adulthood without him. Would be lying if I said I don’t miss him sometimes too. He was my first real friend anyways, was foolish of me to fall for him, - Kanarielle paused, thinking about something for a moment, - But I have Scott now… Actually, - she rose up, looking at him as another thought crawled into her head, - Do you think there could be something between you and I if the circumstances were different?...

Mark gazed outside, genuinely thinking about her question for a good minute or two. He couldn’t tell if he liked her appearance or not, as it was the foremost to judge a potential partner, he never gave it much thought in this regard, and found himself unable to… check her out, no matter how hard he tried to do so. Then he tried thinking about the other girl he knew, tried to compare them – Braenn was one example, but something in his own head prevented him from doing so. He thought of Meltem – yes, that woman was the best of them all; he thought of Livaen’s Nilufer – the woman was quite alright in the looks department; but then he went back to Kana, then mother, then Visenya, and the block returned. As far as the personality went… he burst into laughter, giving the girl funny looks: they would be like an unconfined wild fire together in the middle of a field of a dead dry grass in winter, self-combusted from a rogue zombie-flame under the ground, with someone dumping the fuel to keep them roaring. He didn’t like her at first, she seemed to be too haughty; he guessed she didn’t like him at first either, must have been something about him as well. As the time went by, he figured her being too proud of herself was a defense mechanism, and as they grew closer he discovered a whole new side to her; it probably was the same with her opinion of him, otherwise they would never make it to good friends able to share some darkest, and dumbest, secrets.

- Honestly? – he looked at her, a single tear dancing in the corner of his eye, making the image blurry. She nodded, - Don’t think so. We’re too much alike, and that’s the recipe for a disaster, - the elf girl smirked, approvingly patting him on his chest.

- True, you were really annoying back in the days, - Mark raised his brow at that, looking playfully offended, - And the fake beard of yours?

- Ugh, - he groaned, smiling, - Remember yourself, you thought you are the all mighty ayleid, and it was in your destiny to make the world bow before you, you wanted to conquer the ruby throne, - the elf gestured wildly with his hands, making the girl pinch the skin on his sides and poke him somewhere under his rib.

- Oh, oh! Remember that huge eyeliner you had? Why did you paint it like that? Also, glad you dropped it, - she finger gunned at him.

- Meltem used to paint it, - he explained, - Helped with… identity at the time. She came up with the idea, really boosted my self-esteem. Can’t do it myself though, hands aren’t as steady, - Mark grunted, - Asked Aspen to help me put it on once Meltem left with Livaen, but he said I’m fine as I am and hid the pencil somewhere, still haven’t found it, - Kanarielle wheezed, giving thumbs up to the absent man for the idea; she was glad he made him ditch that horrendous face paint. They laughed for a little longer, remembering the vices and virtues of each other; it was a good distraction from the talk they had before, yet the thoughts in Mark’s head like cockroaches kept racing and bringing him back to the delicate subject, replacing the cheerful smile with a frown, - Shit, - he rubbed his eyes again, prompting Kana to yank his hand away from his face, - Shit, I didn’t know. You never told me the whole story.

- If that is of any comfort, I had no idea either, - she hugged him across his chest, - That is… until you brought me back yesterday. The Void is so different from what I remember, - Kana made a quiet laugh, - Catherine kept me from going out with you, had to tell this to me; couldn’t join you after the revelation, needed to process this through first, - it made him rise on his elbow, looking at the ayleid with eyes wide open. She knew Catherine? Or did she introduce herself while he was gone? - Don’t be so surprised now, - she rolled her eyes, pushing him back into the bed sheets, - I lived in a daedric realm for more than half of my life, don’t you think I know how to communicate with the entities? - Kanarielle giggled, adding in a low voice, - It must be awkward to have her watching over you all the time, especially during the..., - she hummed, - frisky moments, - red in the elf’s face started showing, making her add, - I missed the girly gossips.

- Oh my god, why, - Mark whined, hiding his face behind the palms of his hands, embarrassed, blood rushing to his head, turning him red, - Why you have to ruin everything.

- Well, that was intentionally awkward, - she grinned at him, pretty happy with her achievement, - Now let’s talk about you instead. How were you?

Mark groaned, still red as a pomegranate, but gladly changing the funny subject nevertheless.

- She prolly told you how I was as well, - he couldn’t help but reply in an annoyed and sarcastic tone, and she smacked him across his forehead for that, - Stop hitting me! – the elf grabbed her forearm before she’d descend another blow upon him, throwing daggers at her with his eyes, - I’d probably be dead as well, alright? Not brain dead like you or Cath, just dead-dead in my case, - he scratched the bridge of his nose, - Father told us, hadn’t I met Aspen, I’d be floating among the pillars with my throat slit open, no biggie, and you’d probably be the first one to find me, - he fell silent for a second, deciding to reroute the conversation one more time, - You have to teach me later how to interact with the whole place. But only basics, nothing in-depth – wanna leave the reigns in Cath’s hands.

- Sure thing, - she replied, readjusting herself on Mark’s chest, putting a hand under her head and enjoying the silence, - Don’t wanna turn into your daddy, do you? – it was Mark’s turn this time to smack her lightly on her back, - Ouch. That hurts, - the girl glanced at him, insulted. She wanted to make a comeback, but the elf already had his eyes closed, breathing quietly, chest calmly rising up and going down, exhaustion finally getting to him. She watched him for a second, musing whether to follow his lead and go to sleep, or to mess with him more, when a sudden thought emerged, - Mark? – she called him, drawing a dozy hum from him, - You ever thought about making it official?

- Official what? – it took a whole long moment for the elf to reply, mind already slipping away into slumber.

- You know… tying the knot, - she elaborated, gesturing vaguely, - getting the arrow to the knee, - Mark snorted, - Marriage, for fuck’s sake, you deep skull dingus, - the elf snickered, shoving the girl off him, turning his back on her, - Seriously, Mark. You need to.., - she couldn’t finish the sentence, as he bent around rather uncomfortably, putting his hand over her mouth.

- Sure, you’re gonna be my flower girl, - he unbent back into his place, tucking his hands under his head, sleep returning to him once more, - Now shut up, - she pinched the skin on his side yet again, mad at him for interrupting her, but the elf didn’t react, - Nah, you’re not getting the maid of honor, that’s gonna be Meltem.

________________________________________________________

- Where is he, you dipshit, - Kanarielle cornered a servant, holding him by his throat, green fumes shimmering in between her fingers, threatening the poor man with a slow and painful death. She’s been stalking him like a predator this whole evening, observing from a distance first to confirm her suspicions, them making a move, - Where is he?! – she repeated, her voice raw, uncharacteristic to her, as she slammed the servant into the wall. The man whined like an injured dog, - I saw him with you, you stupid cunt, what did you give him and where did you take him? – the man kept silence, anxiously shooting glances behind her as if someone were to save him from the enraged ayleid. She slapped him across his face, - Sunnabe, dead or alive, you’re telling me everything either way, - Kanarielle spat, piercing through the skin on the neck of the servant with the shards of ice condensed at the tips of her fingers, turning the them red as the blood leaked out of the wounds. She didn’t want to resort to puppeteering – it was hard, tiresome to hold the connection, she hated to control living beings like this, and most importantly at the moment – she was wearing an expensive evening dress; it was something Mandil taught her in secret from Bellaniel, figured she would need this knowledge should she be in a grave danger. It was different from the common known blood magic; hers was primordial and basic, relying on the blood flowing through the creatures of flesh. One way to use it was to draw blood of a target, allowing her to control it indefinitely; there could be multiple targets at once, up to a full army, with, possibly, no limitations, though she had no opportunity, or will, to test it. The other way was to manipulate a target though the power of her own blood, ideal for covert operations and perfect for remote control. Both had their drawbacks: first was messy, leaving wounds on the victims, having literal strings attached that get severed with a distance; the second required constant concentration, and she couldn’t hold it for a long period of time, draining her of her powers, - Now speak, - the flesh under her hand relaxed, and she removed herself from the body, - From the beginning, - she commanded the servant, smearing his warm blood in between her fingers.

… She made her way down a green cavern, voices becoming louder and louder. It was dank in here, moldy smells in the air; the cave floor was muddy, footprints barely visible in the wet dirt, occasional slide marks too – someone lost their footing and slipped on the slope. Luckily, she didn’t notice any signs of fight or struggle.

The servant, or rather his willing body, proved useful in tracking down the abductors. The people behind the kidnapping were some backwater nobles of the Reach, merchants by trade, criminals by fate, barely known to the world; the business became harder with the more frequent attacks of the foresworn and the vampires, and their town in the middle of nowhere quickly depopulated, turning into a shadow of its former self… Like it was blooming before, Kanarielle snorted. Apparently, they were helped by some families once or twice with soldiers, food and gold, but their inability at keeping it together turned away their former allies, leaving them alone. Fast forward few years later, and the family finally resorted to racketeering, trying their “best” to help their town to survive. They should’ve just left it altogether, there was nothing valuable in the area safe for a small field of crops and an iron mine.

Kana warned him, told him to be careful around the nobility, to trust no one and be on a high alert, but he did not listen. He was careless around people, bothered by something so much he had lowered his guard down; she tried her best to keep him out of harm’s way, but failed, letting him slip from her constant surveillance. Now where was he? Kidnapped, held captive as a tool to regain someone else’s power; he was here somewhere, hopefully not dead or sick. The Soranos didn’t know, not yet, neither did know Meltem about what happened – she kept her discovery secret, preferring to keep it quiet to keep the collateral damage as low as it could be possible. An easy job, infiltrate and rescue, she’s done this a hundred times already with Jack. So far she did good, only once having to knock out a brute at the entrance; entering a combat would be a death sentence for her alone without anyone to back her up.

The servant uncovered their ploy. The merchants turned criminals joined together with a group of highway robbers: the first were to find an unsuspecting target and to gain their trust – they still were nobles despite the shady dealings; the second were to wait outside for the first to render the target unconscious to abduct them to a secluded retreat far into the forests; the nobles then would be free of any suspicions, and later can present the wounded party with their help, saying they… found the culprits through their connections in exchange for a favor and some fame points. And Mark just made their entire bank and more, Kanarielle shook her head disapprovingly, they probably didn’t expect to make it with a hostage of his size.

She climber up a ledge, observing the roaming bandits below: she counted five of them, all minding their own business; they did not seem to notice an intruder yet. Behind – she passed three more, and she had no idea how many of them were ahead. “How much you think we gonna get for he arse?” – she heard one of them asking the other. Kanarielle slowly exhaled, not knowing she had her breath held this whole time, relieved with the question - it meant these bandits were still on the same page with the merchants back at the party. “We’re better off selling him to someone else”, - another voice chimed in, low and worried, “The kid’s a Sorano, his granny won’t leave us alive once we do the deal”. Right, the girl thought, the merchants told them there’s going to be a negotiation, but failed to mention them slaughtering all the bandits to keep them quiet and away from their own affairs. “We have our orders! The boy is to be sold to his family. Our patrons shall cover us”, - another one spoke, flailing around with a rusty mace of his. A dangerous stuff, Kana noted, as she noticed a sick yellow aura radiating from it, the glow floating on the surface of the metal. “You so sure?” – the man from before replied, sarcastic tone of his voice, definitely having experience in this matter, “Our dear “patrons” might as well rescue the kid themselves! You know how they operate, we mustn’t trust them. Gotta sell the boy to someone else, get our gold, save our lives as well while we can…”

Kanarielle didn’t listen to them any longer, dropping down from the ledge, trying not to slip on the wet floor, and proceeded further. She sneaked behind the rocks and furniture, snippets of their conversation getting to her ears, none registering though. Her mind was still at the thoughts expressed by the last guy – little idea he had about how close to the truth he was; their “patrons” were to rescue the elf in a few hours, slaughtering each and every single one of them on sight so they wouldn’t tell the truth to Esmir.

Another bend of the tunnel, and she saw cages and a guard, so carelessly standing with his back wide open to the entrance, watching after the precious prisoner. Without wasting anymore time, she sneaked up on him, delivering a sharp blow with a dagger right under his ribs. His blood rushed to the wound, turning her hand red; the man did not utter a word, but tried to fight her and the feeling, yet the control over his body slipped away eventually, and she took over it herself, his blood like strings attached to her fingers.

- Guard the entrance, - she commanded quietly, blood shimmering in the weak light of the torches, - Do not let anyone in, tell them whatever you must. Do not pick a fight, try to stall them as long as you can, - the man nodded, turning on his heels.

She looked around herself; the elf was lying in front of her behind the bars, seemingly unconscious, thick metal cuffs around his wrists digging into his skin, a tight metal collar around the neck. The keys to the cages were lying flat on the wooden table across the room, covered in a layer of rust, all of the same shape and size, so it probably didn’t matter which one she used to open the locks.

Kanarielle entered the cell, kneeling before him and inspecting the shackles – runes were all over them, glowing lightly with violet, radiating something that made it harder for her to breathe, fatigue getting to her, probably enchanted with silence, draining the prisoner of his magic; they were prepared well, even predicted the possibility of a magic-capable hostage. She tried to open the locks with the keys from the cells, but none worked the key to the binds was probably in someone else’s hands, and she had no time to go back and look for it. The other way to rescue the elf was to disintegrate the metal altogether: the ayleid put her hands around the collar first, watching it start to age, rust flakes falling slowly until there was nothing left, all crumbled to dust, the enchantment gone as well. A wave of power washed over her as the barrier containing the magic was gone, and Mark gasped for air, his consciousness returning to him.

- What the…? – he tried to ask, but his throat was dry like a desert, preventing him from speaking more.

- Don’t talk, - Kana told him, cupping the cuffs with her hands, disintegrating those as well, the metal turning to rust and to dust, - Gonna tell you later. Can you walk? Gotta get out of here, - she got back on her feet, handing him a small flask of water she had stashed in a pocked. The elf finished the entire container in no time.

The kid tried to stand, shaking violently, muscles sore, but standing nonetheless. He was no fighter at the moment, more of a burden, and she had to get him out of here to the safety of his grandmother.

  ________________________________________________________

- Esmir was furious when I dragged your sorry ass to her, - the ayleid laughed lightly, applying a soothing balm to the irritation on the skin from the rusty metal cuffs on his wrists and his neck. There was some swelling here and there, bruises and scratches, but nothing that wouldn’t heal with the time, - Not gonna lie to you, it was scary, - Mark hissed quietly at the girl rubbing on his wounds. He was already sitting at the edge of the bed, ready to take off from the discomfort of the balm she was using, - Shit, sorry, but you gotta take it as it is, I’m no healer, - the elf silently nodded, turning his head to the side, - You know, your grandmother’s a terrifying woman. She was all fury for the first couple minutes, then calmed down, and next she was playing along with the guys who ‘napped you. Esmir, the helpless and innocent old lady, - she snickered. A crackling sound in the distance alerted her; she turned to look into the direction of the sound, but there was nothing. The Void was calm as well, so she paid no further attention to it, resuming the talk, - She sent Orlan after them, then went in herself. Dunno what happened there, but she was… ecstatic on their return, totally soaked in blood.

- Picked the wrong granny to mess with, - Mark laughed, coughing, still exhausted. It’s been a few days already, and he still hadn’t recovered from the incident, magic depleted. Esmir figured the shackles had some strong enchantment bound to them, and it would be for the best to let the kid rest in the Void, to let the place do its job; Kana brought him back here, staying at his side this whole time and tending to the bruises.

She added one last smear of the balm to the swelling on his neck and set the jar aside.

- Damn, you never told me she had a daedra for a lover. Disgusting. And what’s even more disgusting is that it said it’s your… I’m sorry, half-brother? – she had a mixed expression on her face, disgust with repulsion and confusion sprinkled on top.

Mark groaned.

- Don’t ask. Father’s side. Luckily they aren’t related. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if they were, she can do anything, - he brushed it off as if it was a no biggie. Really, it was a no big deal for the woman, she found interest in everyone and everything that moved and had some semblance of personality to them. Her main lover was her bodyguard and ex-general Orlan, whom she trusted with her life and everything she had. The other was the daedra, Walerian, and she praised him as a versatile worker bee, though Mark wished he didn’t know that; he was the usual resident of her beds, and she loved showing him off in the public. Another one was a woman she mentioned once, an old altmer mage, but he couldn’t remember her name, and an unknown dunmer with violet eyes. Esmir was a married woman though, not even a widow, yet that did not hold her back in her love affairs.

- That is gross. Anyways, - Kanarielle covered her face with the palms of her hands, trying to make her face relax after cringing so hard, - It? He then? said they had a fun time messing with them, - she paused, listening to the sudden footsteps sounds growing louder and louder, as if someone was getting closer, but the Void, Catherine, didn’t alert her to the intruder, so she tried to not mind it, - He went into the details, but I had to cut him short. Really disgusting, thank you very much, and I’d rather not hear about the guts hanging for the ceiling and eventual… you get the idea. Super gross. Apparently they had some fricky time in the pools of blood and right on top of the corpses, - she added quietly, gagging. Esmir did enjoy some blood and gore plays.

Someone walked into the room, their steps echoing against the stone.

- What happened here? – the silver-haired man inquired, looking at the elves on the bed, blood dripping from his hands and a huge serrated sword, leaving a red trail behind. He lowered the weapon with its jagged edges near the entrance, the blade making a clacking sound against the stone.

Mark shushed at Kanarielle, giving her the most intense looks she’s ever seen in her entire life. His face went from asking to threatening to murderous and to pleading, but she had none of it.

- No biggie, - she winked at the elf, - this dumbass got himself kidnapped, - the girl shrugged her shoulders as the dumbass in question hit her lightly into her thigh. Aspen cocked his eyebrow at them, - He oughtta know what kind of idiot you are, stop being pissy, - the elf rolled his eyes, giving the ayleid the middle finger, - I’m wounded! – she exclaimed, - Alright, cue taken, gonna leave you two, - Kana raised her hands into the air, getting up from the bed and leaving the room.

Aspen took off his blood soaked coat at the entrance, disposing of it rather untidily. There was a hint of worry in his otherwise blank face, and it took the elf by surprise when the man approached him.

- You hurt? – his voice uncharacteristically concerned, - Let me see, - he reached his hand out to the elf, trying to catch him by his arm, but the elf pulled away, almost jumping, violently shaking his head.

- You ain’t touching me with those, - he pointed at the coagulated, almost dried out blood on his fingers. Face nonchalant, Aspen grabbed a fistful of clean purple bed sheets and wiped the hands with them, reaching to the elf once again. Mark groaned, giving him his hand at last, - Who’s blood is that?

The man gently touched the swollen bruise, his fingers finding the wet sticky balm Kanarielle applied a few minutes ago; he stroked the entire scar lengthwise, occasionally drawing huffs and puffs from the elf: it’s been less than a week since the incident, but the area under the binds still hurt as if covered in tiny invisible cuts.

- Not mine, - Aspen answered with a low and tired voice, letting go of the hand and switching over to the bruise on the neck, - Should be gone in a week, - the man concluded, pulling the elf’s black haired head closer, giving a quick peck under the jaw and letting go.

Aspen looked drained, the dark circles under his eyes more prominent than ever, the elf noted, watching him from below remove messy articles of clothing; he looked like he’s about to crash, and his gear did not want to cooperate with the fatigue. Mark had to stand up; he stopped him with a gesture of his hand, grabbing the apparel himself and pulling down, discarding near the bed – he’ll tidy it up later. The man thanked him faintly, clumsily climbing on the bed, crashing into the sheets with eyes already closed; the elf sat at the edge, looking all over him for a moment: he seemed uninjured, just deadly tired.

- So, when are you returning? – Mark asked after a long pause, having nothing else to ask. Aspen tilted his head at the elf, one eye barely open, sighing in exhaustion before closing it again, - Fine, gonna leave you alone then.

- Stay, - he muttered, catching the elf by his forearm before he would get up. With the residue of strength he had left, Aspen pulled him onto the bed, a tad higher than himself, - I have to get some sleep, - he told him as if explaining an obvious concept to a toddler, throwing his arm around elf’s waist to keep him grounded. The man was tense, muscles stiff and rigid, - Need to get going in a few hours, - his words carried a concealed plea, and if Mark didn’t know him any better, it would go unnoticed.

He nodded, awkwardly climbing higher onto the bed, almost curling around the man, around his head and the torso; his white hair smelled of iron and gunpowder, a hint of ash too as he combed through it, the scent becoming stronger as he planted gentle kisses. Aspen softened into the feeling, brows relaxing, breath steady. Mark smiled gingerly, his hand going lower, caressing man’s temples softly, thumb brushing the high cheekbones; eventually, both drifted to sleep.

  ________________________________________________________

Mark was woken up by a scent of marigolds with faint notes of lemon balm, thyme and sage, all carried with an overwhelmingly sweet and sour aroma of sea buckthorn. He cringed; he loved the tree, it was absolutely unique in its looks of silver needle-like leaves and amber fruit, yet the berries’ taste was disgusting in his book, and it made him want to get away from it as far as he could.

Something touched his neck, warm and oily, thick liquid slowly going down his skin, rerouted by a touch somewhere else. He opened his eyes; instead of seeing Kanarielle with the tingling, itchy balm Esmir’s healer gave them, he found Aspen bent over him with a smelly jar in his hand, amber of color, applying the oil to the bruise on his neck.

- Miss Aquilla brought me the ingredients I asked her, - he noticed the elf wake up. Mark winced, the smell of the berries too strong to bear. The man smiled; he put the jar aside to pet the elf on the head with his clean hand, leaning closer to kiss him on the forehead, - The one you used before caused irritations, had to make something different, - his fingers dipped into the oil again, smearing another portion of it on the other side of the neck, gently rubbing it in until it stopped dripping.

- Thanks, - the elf mumbled, trying to get up; Aspen pulled him up, switching his attention to the bruises on the wrists, - Thought you needed to get going, - Mark said, watching the man rub in the oil into his skin; he’s bound to be smelling funny the whole day. The man nodded.

- I have some time left, - he switched onto the other wrist, - Need to tend to your bruises first, - the jar was finally closed, and Mark exhaled in relieve; surprisingly, the new mixture didn’t sting at all like the fat-based balm before did, and he’ll probably get used to the smell later on, - Mark, why can’t I leave you alone? – Aspen suddenly asked, grabbing him by his hands, taking the elf by surprise. He sounded like a disappointed teacher, - You have to be more careful, - the man explained, drawing a wheezing laugh from him, - I’m being serious, Mark, - he paused, - I don’t want to come back one day and find you missing a limb, - Mark laughed nervously, staring at the weary man; the intense look in his eyes said more than he needed to know, filling the elf with guilt the more he kept staring. He muttered an “I’m sorry” under his breath, shifting his gaze somewhere to his feet, fidgeting with fingers, “I’ll be more careful”, - I know you are worried as well, - Aspen pulled the elf in a hug, feeling him rest his chin on his shoulder, - I will be back soon.

- Yeah, - Mark sighed, hiding his face in the crook of man’s neck, - Haven’t heard anything from you for almost two weeks, and last night you appeared soaked in blood. Can’t mind my own safety when I don’t know if you’re okay or not.

- I’ll be back soon, promise, - he repeated, pulling away, - I have some unfinished business, it won’t take long, - Aspen kissed him on the forehead, getting up from the bed, - Have to get going now, - he told him, collecting his gear lying around on the floor haphazardly, the blood dried out and flaking already, leaving red spots throughout the clothing; Mark rose up after, helping him put the apparel on him.

- You are disgustingly sweet, - Kanarielle took both by surprise, silently entering the room, almost sneaking up on them, - Might as well start selling all that sugar of yours… Here, the last piece of your order, - she came up to them, handing Aspen a leather pouch filled with something, hard edges prominent under the hide. The man thanked her with a nod, palpating the purse and the contents inside; happy with the thing delivered, he kissed the elf goodbye and bowed to the ayleid, - Boy, aren’t you two looking like a couple of mushy puppies, - she commented, watching the man leave them alone and disappear into the portal.

- Kana, - Mark suddenly called her, weirdly excited. Her comment was ignored, - tell me, why can’t I make shortcuts through the Void?

- Shortcuts? – she was taken aback by his question, expecting anything but this. She furrowed her brows, looking for a better answer. Unlike the Void that one could access from anywhere, the Sanctuary had a single door inside and out, connected through a disguised portal to a series of flooded long caverns for a more difficult access inside a mountain range in Skyrim. To travel from within the realm, Bellaniel had built a secret chamber with hundreds of doors, all connecting to the outside world, and she was the only one who had the keys to get in and out, - Well, the Void is closer to a pocket realm: you exit where you enter, - the girl explained, gathering her thoughts together, - It’s like a hub; to exit elsewhere you need to have a door or two with an anchor in the world outside. Something like that.

- Can we make them? – he inquired cautiously, thinking about the prospect, - And are there any security risks?

The elf girl laughed.

- You are bothered by the security? Oh boy, Mark, you can make it so no one gets there, ever. This whole place belongs to you, you are the master key; you give and revoke invitations to the place, it’s as secure as nothing will ever be, - she hugged him by his shoulders, ruffling his hair, - I have no idea how to open or make doors, but… - Kanarielle listened to the breeze, - but I think Catherine is more than happy to help us.

[creampuffqueen]

Worlds of Fire and Darkness | Chapter Seven (Asceline)

Read this on AO3! (Here) I love comments and asks, feel free to ask me anything!

Asceline Ashryver is in Orynth, at last, and stirring up trouble as she goes.

I hated to admit it, but dinner in Orynth was always more fun than dinner in Caraverre. Dinner in my land was a quiet affair, and sometimes I felt like I was intruding on my parents' date. Especially ever since Evangeline left to permanently live in Arran. At home I ate my food and made small talk, and then went to bed. My parents would ask what I had done during the day, but they already knew.

In Orynth, my cousins were always there at the very least. Lyria and Sam were like siblings to me, and the other four Galathyniuses were a riot, to say the least. I could entertain them for hours with my shifting. We usually came to Orynth, though, when events like this were happening. The Peace Ball was a week away, and for the whole week I would be spending time with both my cousins and my friends.

The Lochans were something else. There were just as many of them as there were Galathyniuses, but they always felt more intense. Though that was mostly Marion being Marion. The little girl was a demon.

Miran Owen was here, sitting quietly and eating, likely monitoring the conversations around him. Nox Owen's son, he and his family were always invited because of Nox's accomplishments in the war. The Allsbrooks, too, were here. Which meant Leo.

I was staring. Leo looked away from his sister, Rose, and caught my eye. My cheeks heated up and I averted my gaze back to Sam, who had gone very still beside me.

"Sam?" I asked softly, reaching to touch his arm. My older cousin shifted suddenly, turning so fast away from me it was startling. Confused, I turned as well to see what had gotten his attention. It was Lyria, her face resting in her hands as she gazed at Folas Lochan. Her pine green eyes were far away from here and she had some sappy smile glued to her face, the same way her own gaze seemed attached to the Lochan boy.

Oh. That's why Sam was looking the way he was. Confusion danced his eyes, mostly, but there was a small bit of betrayal. I held back my snort. Did he not know about Lyria and Folas? Well, this was more interesting that Caraverre, and we'd barely sat down.

"You're so funny." Lyria giggled, almost girlishly, making me hide my cringe. If Folas noticed, he didn't care, because he just kept talking. Even though we were seated fairly close, the sheer amount of people at the long table made it hard for me to hear, and I wished I had Fae hearing. I could have shifted my ears, but that would cause too much distraction. And I was here for the drama.

Lyria had told me of her massive crush on Folas several months earlier, on a visit. She'd spent the whole day going on and on about him, and if I didn't know him personally I would have thought he was a god. But of course, I'd grown up with the Lochans and was not fooled by some love-struck princess. The thought had me making extra sure I wasn't looking at Leo again. Love-struck princess indeed.

"And he said, 'think you can beat me that easily, little half-breed? Well think again!' and then he tried to grab me, but I was too fast-" Folas was animatedly telling a tale of how he'd gotten one of the guards fired from the estate. Lyria looked entranced, and Sam looked like he wanted to disappear into the plush seats and beat up his sister at the same time.

"That's not what happened!" From beside her brother, little Marion piped up, stabbing a few green beans on her fork and shoving them in her mouth.

"You weren't there," Folas protested. "And chew with your mouth closed or Mom will have a fit." In response Marion smacked her food loudly, showing off the green mush in her mouth. I nearly gagged. Sam looked slightly green at my side.

"I saw him after, he wasn't beat up." Marion pointed her fork at Folas accusingly before scooping a lump of mashed potatoes and smacking on those. "You're a liar!" She squealed around her food. Marion abandoned her utensils at this point and simply picked up her cut of roast chicken between her fingers. Now even Folas looked nauseous.

"Well maybe I exaggerated a bit-"

"Liar liar pants on fire. Lyria should light your pants on fire for being a liar." Marion nodded decisively, flicking her dark hair out of the way. Somehow, in her rampage on the food, it had come undone from the braid it was in.

"I'm not lighting anyone's pants on fire, Marion." Lyria's voice was normal again, thank gods, not in the stupid high pitch it was whenever Folas so much as looked at her.

"Maybe I will. You should watch out tonight, big brother." Folas had the good sense to shudder only after his little sister turned away. Sabron, the next oldest Lochan boy, seemed inclined to take the little one away and deposit her back to her parents, which I thought was a good idea. To spare my stomach from looking at the way Marion was eating, I glanced the other way, down the long table.

I wondered if Leo could sense when people were looking at him. Because he seemed deep in conversation with my sister, Evangeline, but the moment I turned my gaze his way he stopped talking and looked back at me. I didn't even have time to feel a pang of jealousy at him talking to my sister (Even though she was nearly twice his age) because I was too busy trying not to combust under his eyes.

I don't know what it was about Leo. In all honesty most would expect me to be attracted to his sister, Rose. She was as perfect as perfect could be. Maybe it was the way Leo seemed different than all the others I'd liked in the past. He was different, I was sure. And normally had no problem expressing my feelings, but with Leo I turned into a stuttering mess. As I was now. My whole face was probably red. I looked away, deciding to risk Marion's food massacre instead of... whatever was happening.

I had missed a large chunk of conversation while staring at Leo, and was completely confused. Lyria was back to her stupid girly grin, fluttering her lashes at Folas told another undoubtedly false tale. I'd fought him before, and he was strong, but not strong enough to take down Vaughan, as he was describing. It was good that he'd at least decided to tell falsehoods about someone who wasn't present tonight to prove him wrong.

"Liar liar." Marion chanted, mouth full of food. She'd gotten soup on the tips of her hair. "Liar liar."

"Hush, you." Folas demanded finally, scowling at his sister. "And for gods' sake, chew with your mouth closed. Nobody wants to see that shit."

"That's a bad word!" Marion cried. She looked inclined to stand on her chair, but Sabron quickly grabbed her and pulled her to his side. Marion kicked, but didn't scream, instead aiming her little five-year-old fists at his jaw. Sabron didn't even flinch.

Folas rolled his eyes with a sigh, letting his younger brother deal with his sister while he continued to try and woo my cousin. Gods, they were dumb. Could neither realize the other was interested in them? Sam hadn't touched any food on his plate, and a near predatory gaze filled his eyes.

Groaning, I shoved Sam back to the present, pulling him down to my level so I could whisper in his ear, "Let Lyr do what she wants. She's a grown female, for gods' sake, and you're her brother, not her keeper." Sam pouted, but said nothing. He picked up his fork and knife and ate his food slowly.

Marion, who'd had enough by now of her brother holding her down, squirmed out of his grip and dashed under the table. Before Sabron could duck down there to grab her, I felt her scramble against my legs and out the other side, where she proceeded to make a beeline for her father. Lord Lorcan Lochan picked up his daughter and set her on his lap with a kiss to her soup-stained hair. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Marion had her father at her beck and call.

"And that's why I'm glad to be an only child." I muttered. Folas practically pricked his ears at my words, and abandoned his larger-than-life story to glare at me.

"You have a sister, Ashryver."

"But I'm the youngest." I argued. "So if anyone in my family was like your sister, it was me. But I don't remember any of it. Maybe I was just an angel child."

"Doubt it." Folas snorted.

"Folas is right. I remember you as a baby, and you were a demon." Lyria chuckled.

"Now you're all ganging up on me!" I protested. "I feel hurt! Lyr, I trusted you!" I dramatically threw my head back and fake-wailed softly, which earned a few giggles from further down the table. Probably Evalin.

"Well anyway-" Folas attempted to start another story, no doubt to impress Lyria, but I quickly interrupted him.

"And you too Folas! I thought you were my friend! And now you're calling me as bad as your sister!"

As if on cue, every single Lochan boy snarled at the same time, and I grinned. One sure way to get a Lochan fired up was to insult their siblings. Especially Marion. The little girl could be a joy, but she was usually worse than her brothers, proven by the fact her plate looked like a war-zone and the small bruise welling on Sabron's jaw. She didn't mean to hurt him, I was sure, but she was incredibly used to getting her way.

"Don't talk about Marion like that." Folas growled. Lyria just raised her golden brows at me, as if saying I deserved the tongue-lashing that was sure to follow in moments. Sam flashed me a pitying look.

"Our sister is not bad, Asceline." Amias glared at me as he spoke, venom spewing from his mouth.

"Coulda fooled me." I purred, effectively signing my death warrant. I saw Lyria roll her eyes at me, and I flashed her a feral grin. I could stand to burn off some energy by throwing the Lochans on their asses. Granted, they'd hand me my own ass in a few moments if they worked together, but I had been itching for a fight all afternoon in the wagon.

Before they could all lunge at me, my Aunt Aelin called from the head of the table, "Is everyone enjoying dinner? Emrys has been perfecting this meal for weeks!"

All the dark haired boys sat down again, at least the ones who had stood. A chorus of "yes!" and "it's delicious!" followed my aunt's question. Aelin beamed from her seat, promising to tell her cook he did well. The meal was delicious, but after Marion I'd rather lost my appetite. At least for food.

The rest of the meal passed quietly, with me trying not to scoff too hard at Folas and Sam trying to reign in his murderous gaze. I was right, and he knew it. Territorial Fae bastard. When everyone was finished, Aunt Aelin and Uncle Rowan led the procession into the drawing room for socializing. Lyria all but perched on the arm of Folas's seat, but instead came to her senses slightly and sat on a chair next to him. Sam and I were on a couch across from them, Sabron and Amias in other chairs. Folas attempted to start another story, but his brothers must have gotten sick of his bullshit, because they roped us all into a conversation instead.

"How have you all been?" Amias asked casually. A good conversation starter, but one that Folas couldn't bring back to himself easily.

"I've been very well." Lyria said, smiling softly. Ever the princess. Sam echoed her, mentioning that his training was going well. I could have sworn Lyria grimaced at the words, but it was so quick I couldn't say for sure.

"And how about you, Ashy?" Amias turned his attentions to me.

I snorted, "Don't call me that."

"Yes, but if I gave you a nickname based off your real name I would end up just calling you Ass, which I don't think you'd appreciate." That was true. I blamed my parents for my very un-nicknamable name.

"If I gave you a nickname I would call you Amy, so how about that?" I shot back. "Just call me by my real name."

But Amias, or Amy, as I would be calling him from now on, didn't have time to speak before someone sat down on the arm of the couch, right next to me. I looked up to see Rose, with Leo standing next to her. Rose gave her perfect little grin and brushed the hair out of her face. And I certainly didn't miss Leo dragging his own fingers through his dark hair. He and his sister looked nothing alike, which was baffling to me. With Lyria and Sam you could at least tell they were related, but with Leo and Rose you honestly couldn't.

"What have you been up to, Asceline dear?" Rose practically purred. Her beauty could put the Fae to shame. And that was coming from someone who's cousin was one of the most gorgeous Fae I'd ever met. Though, to be fair, I hadn't met many Fae.

"Not much. Lady training, battle training, weapon training. Training in general." Rose nodded at my words, blue eyes sparkling.

"Us too," She said simply, gesturing to her younger brother. Leo nodded, not meeting anyone's eyes. His gaze was on the picture hanging above the fireplace, the picture of the whole royal family, right after the twins were born.

"Leooooo," Lyria trilled, "The real royals are right here." The Allsbrook boy snapped back to reality, turning to fully face us.

"Yes, how have you all been?" He asked.

"I'm sick of that question. I've been fine, thank you, but ask me something different." Lyria's lips curved upwards in a smirk, and Leo just shook his head. Most people would be terrified of upsetting their princess, especially one who wielded fire and ice as easily as she could talk, but we'd all grown up together. Lyria was joking, and Leo knew it.

"Fine. Ashy, how are your dogs?" Lyria opened her mouth, obviously going to protest no longer being the center of attention, but Sabron cut her off with a grin.

"She doesn't like to be called Ashy, you know."

"I don't mind-"

"Not from him you don't." Sabron cackled, and I contemplated tackling him, but quickly decided I didn't need to be stuck in extra manners lessons as punishment.

"Whatever. My dogs are fine, thanks for asking, Leo." I could hardly meet his eyes, but I did anyway, hoping it would put Sabron off from what he undoubtedly knew now and would use against me. My heart skipped a beat as I locked eyes with Leo Allsbrook.

"Ashy's got a-" This time it was Lyria who shut up the Lochan. I turned, ready to kick Sabron in the balls, and found Lyria half-dragging him away to go get a drink. Leo looked midly startled, and I prayed he hadn't heard him. Rose gave me a knowing look before standing up from her perch and placing a perfect hand on her brother's arm, and then they were gone as quickly as they'd come, and I was sitting on the couch, still reeling from the beauty that was Leo Allsbrook.