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wilburmacaulay · 3 years ago

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The shirt should be a French cut style and cufflinks can be worn.

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weerd1 · 5 years ago

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Star Trek DS9 Rewatch Log, Stardate 1909.17: Missions Reviewed, “Inquisition,” “In the Pale Moonlight,” and “His Way.”

In “Inquisition,” Bashir is repairing Chief’s shoulder after a kayaking accident (again) and preparing to go to a medical conference. When he wakes up for his trip he is remarkably groggy and matters are made worse when he is called to ops because Starfleet Internal Affairs, led by a Director Sloan, has come to investigate DS9’s senior staff as someone has been leaking information to the Dominion.

After some time confined to quarters, Julian is just briefly questioned by Sloan, but all seems well. Returning to his quarters, he finds they have been searched, and he receives a cryptic message from O’Brien that Miles had been questioned for two hours, and ONLY about Julian. In a second interrogation, Sloan reveals that he believes Bashir was actually turned during his time in a Dominion prison, and has sublimated all memories of this, making him the perfect spy. Sloan admits that Bashir’s motivation is to save lives, hence using the genetically engineered think tank from “Statistical Probabilities” to try and convince the Federation to surrender. Bashir continues to deny, but Sloan, seemingly with no accountability to anyone but himself begins to raise the stakes. Things just become difficult when Julian is suddenly whisked away in a transporter, and finds himself with Weyoun on a Dominion vessel. The Vorta tells him that in fact he HAS been working for the Founders, but now he has been compromised. Bashir, still simply can’t remember any such programming. Soon after though the Defiant arrives, and Kira and Worf beam over to rescue Bashir. When he’s back on the Defiant though, he is treated as a prisoner. The crew has turned against him. When even O’Brien literally turns his back on Bashir, Julian reaches out to turn Miles back to him, and realizes that O’Brien doesn’t have the shoulder injury he just treated the day before. Everything disappears and a black-clad Sloan is standing with Julian in a holodeck. Sloan explains to Bashir that he runs a branch of Starfleet intelligence called “Section 31” and all of this has been to confirm Bashir’s loyalty for recruitment into the covert organization.

Sloan promises Bashir will see him again. Back on DS9, Bashir realizes he’s been gone since the morning he woke up (which was actually after just an hour’s sleep to keep him off balance). Sisko makes inquiries to Starfleet about Section 31, and the admiralty will neither confirm nor deny their existence. Sisko and Bashir decide they want to infiltrate this organization, so if 31 comes calling again, Sisko advises Bashir to join.

The introduction of something that will become a major plot point throughout the rest of Star Trek. Section 31 will of course continue to appear in DS9 for the rest of the show, we will find out they were already operating in the Earth Starfleet in the 2150s during “Enterprise.” Section 31 is responsible for thawing Khan and trying to provoke a war with the Klingon Empire in “Star Trek Into Darkness.” And finally, the existence and actions of S31 play heavily into the second season of “Discovery.” The Kafka-esque feel of this entire episode is perfect, even if it seems like this is something they would generally do to Miles for the annual “let’s screw with O’Brien” episode. Bashir is a perfect choice though- well placed, genetically engineered, has already made friends with men like Garak, and someone who replicates espionage on the holosuite. Can’t overstate how perfect William Sadler is as Sloan either. It’s a pointed discussion. A utopia like the Federation may not be able to exist without someone behind the scenes doing the wrong things for the right reasons. At least one of out main crew would never do that, right?

“In the Pale Moonlight,” is told entirely as a personal log entry from Benjamin Sisko. He is talking about how “it all went wrong” when he posted a casualty report; the Federation/Klingon alliance is not doing well against the Dominion. Talking with Dax, he realizes they need to get the Romulans to break their non-aggression pact with the Dominion and come into the Alpha Quadrant alliance. Sisko is convinced that the Founders plan to invade Romulus when the main war is done, but will need proof to get the Romulans to act. He approaches Garak to see if anyone can get such records off of Cardassia, but Garak reports back that the Dominion has killed every operative he still as contact with on Cardassia.

Garak suggests faking the proof; he can get a blank Cardassian data rod, and he knows a forger who could build a holo program to demonstrate the “briefing” regarding turning toward Romulus. Sisko is resistant…until another casualty report comes, and Sisko realizes perhaps the ends do justify the means. They proceed with the plan which keeps having moral red flags pop up, but finally convince a Romulan senator to stop at the station and see the “evidence.” The senator analyzes the data and discovers the forgery. He leaves, potentially to tell his government that the Federation tried to trick them into the war, likely leading them to join the Dominion. The senator’s shuttle explodes on the way home, and the Romulans discover the forged rod, believing it to be real and the reason the Dominion destroyed the shuttle. Sisko knows it was Garak who killed the senator (and the forger on the side) and had really planned this from the beginning. But when the Romulans attack the Dominion, Garak tells Sisko they may have saved the Alpha Quadrant, and all it cost was one senator, one criminal, and the self-respect of one Starfleet Officer.

Sisko closes out the dictation of his log:

“So… I lied. I cheated. I bribed men to cover up the crimes of other men. I am an accessory to murder. But most damning of all… I think I can live with it… And if I had to do it all over again… I would. Garak was right about one thing – a guilty conscience is a small price to pay for the safety of the Alpha Quadrant. So I will learn to live with it…Because I can live with it…I can live with it. Computer – erase that entire personal log."

I know I say this more than once during this show but: Holy shit. First there’s Avery Brooks’ performance throughout the episode. As he dictates the log he is just mesmerizing to watch. Andrew Robinson as Garak of course is fantastic. This is of course the origin of the internet meme “It’s a FAAAAKE!” from Senator Vrenek.

And the moral conundrum is really captivating. This is an episode a lot of DS9 detractors use to point out how antithetical they believe DS9 is to “Gene Roddenberry’s vision.” I would argue they forget that classic Trek had many of the same tropes. Watch “Errand of Mercy” and how quickly Kirk and Spock are willing to risk the lives of what they believe to be simple peasants in order to stymie the Klingons. Or “A Private Little War” where Kirk provides rifles to a stone age tribe so the can fight a proxy war against a side supported by the Klingons. Kirk referring to himself as a “soldier” or his line from “A Taste of Armageddon,” “We can admit that we’re killers, but we will not kill today.” Yes, Trek offers a positive view of humanity’s future, but it also uses its science fiction setting to examine the human condition without ever saying humans are perfect. There is no way to examine the human condition without examining what we as a species are willing to do in war. As someone who still periodically has to assess what I did defending my county (and more than once found myself not meeting my own ethical standards) I appreciate Trek asking us to do that, asking us to take a look at ourselves, what we have done, and what we can live with. I can live with it. I will learn to live with it.

Will you?

“His Way” introduces us to Bashir’s new holosuite program, a swinging 60’s Vegas club and lounge singer named Vic Fontaine. The AI in the program is remarkably astute and quickly sums up everyone Bashir introduces to “Vic.” Even Odo becomes intrigued when Vic looks at he and Kira, begins to ask about their status but shies away. Odo begins to go the holosuite to ask Vic for advice on Kira.

They run through a series of exercises to help Odo learn to be “smooth,” and eventually program another 60s character, a torch singer based on Kira. Vic actually on his own reaches out to Kira to tell her to be in the holosuite to have dinner with Odo, and tells Odo that they are working with the hologram again. The two are having a wonderful date when Odo begins to lament that this isn’t the real Kira. When he find out it is he storms out. The two of them meet on the promenade and begin to argue about whether or not they should try it again. “Well then after dinner, I suppose I should try to kiss you then!” Odo shouts. “Maybe!” Kira counters. “Why wait, maybe I should just kiss you now!” “Maybe you should!” and he does. After five years of mooning over her, Odo and Kira have finally come together.

Oh. MY. GOD. How frickin’ sweet. This episode is simply adorable, and the whole scene with them on the promenade is just lovely. Always good to see your OTP (that’s internet talk- “one true pairing”) made canon. It is just about damn time, and their joining is perfectly executed. Also, my sincere and heartfelt thanks to whomever on the DS9 writing staff decided we needed to see Kira in a slinky 60s dress perform “Fever” while laying coquettishly across the piano Odo was playing. I just can’t thank you enough for that.

From the larger Trek standpoint though, we are beginning to deal with questions on the sentience of AI. Yes, The Doctor over on “Voyager” would seem to have been “awake” long enough to gain a self-awareness, but is Vic simply a hologram, or are these “lightbulbs” a new lifeform as much as Data was on TNG? There are some big SF philosophical questions going on behind this delightfully romantic episode.

NEXT VOYAGE: Ancient Bajoran prophecy comes back into play as it is Prophet vs. Pah-Wraith in “The Reckoning.”

#star trek #star trek: Deep Space Nine #ds9 rewatch

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aj-artjunkyard · 6 years ago

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Trials Of Apollo Oneshot Series CHAPTER TWO

It was my turn to keep watch. It was dark, though there was no way to accurately determine what time it was. Meg snored deeply from the rush-job tent just a few feet behind me. We’d had quite the close call a few nights ago, when a Pandos tracker from Caligula’s army had caught us off guard. From then on, we decided that at least one of us should be awake at all times. But now, sitting and shivering on an uncomfortable rock in the eerie darkness of the forest in the early morning, I decided I regretted every part of my and Meg’s little agreement. Not only was I cold and tired, I was also hyperaware of the fact that I was extremely vulnerable. I had been mortal for so long that I could hardly shoot a barn from point-blank range. I had trouble with the intricate fingering on my combat ukulele. My voice wavered at cracked when I sang even the simplest tune. I feared that if something were to happen, I wouldn’t be able to do anything except scream for help from a little girl in traffic-light coloured attire. Have I mentioned that being mortal sucks?

But… there was something else. When I was a god, I had the ability to keep an eye on mortal exploits from my throne on Olympus. I had observed with interest the quests of many heroes; Hercules, Theseus and Percy Jackson, to name a few. So I knew with certainty that the gods would be watching me. This was not new information. I had always known. What was bothering me was that the uncomfortable feeling of eyes on my back felt intensified. I was the entertainment of a large audience tonight.

I could almost feel my image in the central hearth of Hestia in the Olympian throne room, where you could watch anyone in the world flicker through its flames like a blazing hologram. I’ve watched a few soppy family movies with Hestia and the others huddled around the warmth of the most gentle source of power in all of Olympus. When you were sat viewing ‘Beauty and the Beast’ in high definition, you simply forgot all sense of tension between you and your brethren. Even to lawless scamps like Hermes, it was simply improper to argue in front of Hestia's hearth. Demeter and I came to our uneasy truce over ‘The Secret Garden’. Artemis and I had forgotten countless arguments over ‘Robin Hood’ since 1973. (What? We’re archers. And we love the justice dealt to the greedy prince. Artie will tell you that Maid Marian shouldn't have gotten married. This isn’t true.) You catch my drift. It hurt that I was the one being peered at, ridiculed, from such a pure, sacred place.

And so, I knew something was going to happen. I stole a glance back at Meg, wondering if I should wake her. Then again, there was no telling what a cranky, sleep-deprived tween would order me to do if I were to wake her just because I was feeling a little skittish. I decided against disturbing her.

But what I did next, I could not explain at the time. I thought perhaps the nerves got the better of me. Perhaps my fidgeting became too much. I stood. My keen ears picked up the faint squealing of an infant. Meg’s snores began to ebb away to the back of my mind, like the whole world was being submerged in Poseidon’s fury. The screams became more acute. I was drawn to go to it, to silence the scream. My peripheral vision darkened. I could only see straight ahead, to the source of the voice. The urge became as powerful as my master’s orders. I started to walk.

I had only gone a few steps forward in my trance when I gained back control of my lower body, and, with great force, willed myself to stop. I stood there, stuck in limbo, my mind violently hurling commands back and forth like the ball in an olympian volleyball game (Zeus and Poseidon are terrifyingly competitive).

‘Go!’ The first voice hissed. ‘You are needed! Save them!’

‘Not a chance!' The second sniped back. ‘You’d leave Meg vulnerable like that? You are no better than the gods and emperors you say you despise!’

‘Meg can defend herself. You need to be the useful one for a change. How many people have you disappointed? Do not let this be another.’

My legs felt detached from my body. I stepped another few paces. “No!” I muttered to myself. “I want to stay!” The pull did not lessen.

‘Trust me,’ said the first voice, morphing into that of a fierce woman’s. Her tone was a calm leader’s, pointing her soldiers into the battlefield. ‘No harm shall come to your companion. Now, go!’ Her last word spurred my legs against my will. I began to run towards the source of the screaming, my heart pumping faster and more desperately every second, without actually knowing why. My entire form went on autopilot. I saw myself jumping over fallen tree trunks, clawing up steep, muddy hills and wading through a shallow creeks. I felt every stone scraped my hands on, every branch that stung my face. But I could not control it. Down in the very depths of my mind I felt my fear of being trapped and guilt of leaving Meg, but it was quickly quenched by this new feeling of an unwelcome person sharing my Lester prison.

My subconscious thrashed to regain control. But I couldn’t. No matter how hard I fought, I could not make myself portray anything but this monotoned calm. I was forced to take a backseat and watch quietly as I let myself run and run until my lungs felt like Hephaestus had made them into his new forge. I wanted to wheeze, cough and splutter. I couldn’t. I tried to yell for help. I couldn’t.

Finally, after an eternity of sprinting through the damp, cold maze of trees, the presence left my mortal body. My knees buckled and my feet gave way. I lay face down in the dirt panting like Cerberus on a particularly dry day in the Underworld. My clothes were in tatters. My hands and knees were bleeding. Everything up to my mid-thighs was soaked, and the rest was caked with mud. I managed to push myself up, though I shook badly. I stayed like that for a while - on all fours, concentrating on breathing more than anything else. Breathing is good. I always recommend breathing.

Then I heard the cries. They only sounded to be a few feet ahead of me. With all my mortal strength (which isn’t a lot, but I was tired) I used a nearby trunk to haul myself to my feet, still gasping at the air hungrily. When I looked up, my eyes connected with a strange sight. A wispy grey apparition floated silently next to a dark tree stump. On the stump lay a little bundle of writhing white sheets, wrapped tightly around a minuscule form. I stood there for a second - maybe out of shock - before I rushed over to the child, tripping and landing on my bleeding knees out of desperation to reach him. I took him up as gently as my shaking hands could, and clutched him tightly to my chest. You may be wondering why I did this. Firstly, please. I know I’m not a model father, but I’m no monster. Even in my godly state, I would have reacted as such. Just as my sister is the protector of young maidens, I am the protector of young men. I don’t quite understand how I knew, but this little child was a boy. Perhaps it’s my mother’s genes that spurs on this side of me. She is, after all, the titaness of motherhood (also, I know for certain that I don’t get any of my fatherly traits from my own father).

Secondly, this baby, barely a newborn, had obviously been abandoned by his parents. Left for dead with no skills or means to survive. He was utterly defenceless. I sympathised.

I felt the baby’s heartbeat and checked his temperature, all while hugging him as close as possible, trying to provide him with heat from my own body. I could tell he needed far more warmth than my shivering frame could give him. My teeth chattered. My numb fingers could just about keep an even grip on the baby.

“He won’t survive much longer.” The apparition’s voice made me jump. I had completely forgotten her presence. I scolded myself. You do not disregard a potential deity unless you want something sharp or white-hot to mutilate you on the spot. Stupid Apollo! This was basic hero knowledge! I looked up at her, already recognising her voice. The woman wore a full-length chiton, held a spear in one hand, and a shield in the other. Her head was adorned with a battle helm that sprouted smoky grey plumage as if someone had set her tightly woven hair bun on fire, though I guess that wasn’t the look she was going for. Over one shoulder, a small satchel was slung. Battle ready and stoic as ever, stood Athena, the goddess of wisdom.

“S-sister,” I greeted coldly (literally. I was shivering enough to cause concern.) “How nice of you to show. I would have thought you above interacting with human children.”

“You are four thousand years old. You are not a child, though your behaviour could fool most.”

“I didn’t mean me, I meant-”

“We have urgent matters to discuss.”

“But why did you-”

“There is limited time.” Ugh. Athena was and is the spitting image of Zeus. One track mind. It doesn’t matter if everyone was crying and screaming, they would still finish what they were saying or doing before giving a thought to anyone else’s feelings.

“I have information for you,” ghost-Athena continued. “You must-”

“Woah, woah, woah,” I interrupted (wow, Athena was right! Cutting people off was fun). Athena looked irritated, but allowed me to speak. “Why did you drag me to this kid? What’s he got to do with this?” Sighing deeply, she began to explain.

“It’s an excuse.” She looked down at me as if this should have been the most obvious thing in the world. “My plan was to alert you to this child’s predicament, then appear and take him to safety. As the protector of young boys, his well-being is your responsibility. I told father how embarrassing it would be for him to look like he couldn’t handle your ‘simplistic’ jobs, and he allowed me take the child if you just so happened to find him,”- she waved her hands slightly for emphasis -“on the condition that I don’t talk to you.”

“So…why are you talking to me?”

“I am disregarding his condition as I trust his reliance on my wise judgement. He cannot hurt me.”

I grunted. “Right.” It must have felt good to be one of my father’s favourite children. I would not know. I was cursed to be in the same group as deities such as Ares and Dionysus. Sometimes even they got more attention than me! I was not some dumb war brute or a drunken demigod! I was Apollo! I (sometimes) knew the future! I sang songs of our (my) glory! Not to mention my (and my sister’s) skill with a bow! I was an intelligent medic! Have you ever been to medical school? Only the brightest survive (excuse my pun about being the frickin’ sun god).

Then again, my mortal mind had been kicking me recently. Ever since meeting Hermes on the way to Camp Jupiter, I had come to an awful realisation. Among the Olympians, I was always second best. An atrocity, I know! I do not suit silver. That’s my sister’s colour! I’m supposed to be gold! But I assure you kind readers, it is true, for I have thought this over. Anything I could do, someone else could also do. Healing? They had my son, Asclepius. Archery? My sister, Artemis. Music and poetry? The nine muses. The sun? They already had Hermes on that job. Sure, I could spread plague, but so could the Nosoi. I could be a deep thinker if I wanted to be, but so could Athena, and her ‘deep thoughts’ were usually to my father’s favour, unlike mine.

If I showed any disgust (and I’m sure I did,) Athena did not acknowledge it. Instead she ploughed on with her all-important speech.

“As I was saying, I have something important to share with you.” She started digging through her small satchel while she talked. “Both Artemis and Hermes have helped you, and both are now being watched by father. I will be more careful. I have only come to give you this.” From the petite bag, she drew a water bottle and a clear zip-lock bag with what looked like little squares of brownies inside. She placed the bottle on the tree stump next to her, and held up the bag. “These have been chemically synthesised by your son Asclepius and myself. They have the healing properties of ambrosia, but can be safely consumed by mortals, as long as you do not eat too much. The bag is not self-replenishing, so use them carefully. This is something Artemis whipped up. It’s-”

“-Moonwater,” I finished. The glinting silveriness of the liquid was too obvious to be anything else. I remembered Thalia Grace giving me some back in Indianapolis, before - well, before Caligula happened. I hated myself for reminding me.

Athena seemed unbothered. “Yes. Now if you could hand over the child-” she started reaching her arms out the shivering baby in my arms. As soon as Athena’s hands were within an inch of him, he started screeching with renewed energy. The shrill sound echoed through the quiet woods, a few birds in nearby trees flapping off to escape the racket. I flinched and Athena covered her ears. I rocked the baby and hummed a quiet lullaby until he calmed down. Athena sighed and put her hands on her hips. “Right. Let us try that again.” She picked up the baby and rocked him like I had, but the noise was no different. For a newborn, he definitely had a good pair of lungs.

Seeing Athena struggle with something so simple was quite amusing, but I decided to be a good person (see? I am good. I am.) and help her out. With great difficulty, I stood and shuffled over to Athena’s smoke-self. She glared, but allowed me to adjust her hand positioning.

“Babies don’t have much in the neck. You have to hold them like this.” Athena huffed.

“I know that.” She snapped.

“Good. Now you’ll have to sing to him.”

Athena blanched (as much as a grey apparition can, anyway). “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You don’t have to sing the entire Les Misérables soundtrack. Just a little tune.” You’ll have to forgive me here. I knew there were other alternatives. But I also I knew Athena was self-conscious. I just wanted to get one of the Olympians to be as embarrassed as I constantly was for the last three months.

After some convincing, Athena agreed to hum, but nothing more. She chose ‘Für Elise’ by Beethoven. A good choice I suppose. I admit, it did please me that even in her semi-solid colourless state, I could almost feel her cheeks reddening. Too soon, the baby quietened down.

“Not bad. Though your pace needs to slow down a bit to -”

“Hush up.” I held up my hands in surrender and flashed my old, cocky smile. It didn’t seem to fit naturally anymore. I ignored that.

“You’ve done better than I expected.”

“Gee, thanks.” Suddenly thunder rumbled in the distance. We both looked to the skies.

“I’ve exceeded my time limit. I must be off.” And with that, the embodiment of wisdom poofed and disappeared, leaving me coughing in her smoke. I arrived back at the campsite just as the sun’s first rays began to peek through the trees.

#writing #toa #toa oneshot #oneshot #fanfiction #fanfic #apollo #meg mccaffrey #athena #trials of apollo

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treacherousreign · 7 years ago

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How Asaau found out about his engagement to Rikka and Orise’s to Vene, and how Orise handled him finding out. Highlights Orise’s deeply artificial and manipulative nature. Warnings for depictions of an abusive family dynamic and a toxic/one-sided relationship.

“There…there must be some kind of mistake.”

His grandmother’s gaze sharpened, and Asaau quickly backtracked.

“Not on your part, of course, but –” But what? Who else could it have been? No one but those seated across from him had the authority to arrange his marriage – his grandmother and great-aunts, the council of women who governed the Seket family by right of blood and seniority.

“I suppose I’m simply – confused.” Asaau fought to keep his voice free of feeling. If he cracked, they’d all stare at him, maintaining cool composure while he disgraced himself. “We are Seket. The one you’ve chosen for me is of Velher.”

“Do you object to this engagement, Asaau?” his grandmother asked.

“No!” The word flew forth on instinct. “No, I – you know better than one as young as I, I beg your forgiveness if my words suggested otherwise –”

Asaau wished for some of Warden’s cold precision to temper his nerves, but, as usual, his spirit partner had gone silent now that Asaau actually needed them. He needed precision. He needed to appear as calm and in control as the women before him if he were to have even the slightest hope of persuading them not to go through with this engagement.

“I only wish to understand the reasons behind your decision, so that I might better meet your expectations.” He could feel the weight of their gazes on him, and his traitor tongue seemed to want nothing more than to lock up and never let him speak again. “I – I would hate to disappoint any of you, or to shame the blood that runs through our veins.”

The women exchanged a look.

“Very well,” one of his great-aunts said, in tones that suggested they were doing him a favor he didn’t deserve.

Oh, thank gods. The explanation would give Asaau a break in which to organize his thoughts. If he was truly lucky, what they told him might give him something off of which to base an argument against this marriage, and in favor of…

Orise. For her, he was doing this for her, for them. I’ll get myself free of this for you, I’ll make them see, I promise…

“You understand, of course,” his great-aunt began, “the problems that come from having a limited choice in blood. Few families are worthy of joining their bloodlines to ours, and we’ve suffered for it. Too much Seket to Ilisaf, too much Seket to Tekkar…far too much Seket to Seket. Too many stillbirths and malformed children. Perhaps we can fix this with genetic manipulation, I hear you asking, but pruning a few sick branches won’t do anything if the whole tree begins to decay. Better to open ourselves to other families than to have to edit every new child’s genes just to make it capable of surviving outside the womb. The ancient house of Seket will not be brought down by such a narrow form of pride. We must have new blood.”

“And this is where Rikka, first of Velher comes in,” another great-aunt took over. “It’s true that we are reaching too far down for her, but her bloodline is known for its members’ physical health and resistance to illnesses. Furthermore, a Seket-Velher marriage hasn’t occurred in centuries, which means your marriage to Rikka will be a great help in bringing our family new blood. Politically, Velher once held a good deal of power, and if we help them to regain some of it through marriage, they will be deeply indebted to us – even more than they already are for the marriage offer itself, which is a far better one than they ordinarily could have ever hoped to make. Velher belongs to the Tauhrelil pillar, and Rikka is the first daughter of her family’s senior branch, so the marriage serves to benefit our standing with Tauhrelil as well. The two of you could potentially form the beginning stages of a new alliance.”

“Blood and politics aside, Rikka herself stands to do the family good as well,” his grandmother said. “Like you, she has a spirit partner, which gives your children a greater chance of being the same way. Her abilities in that regard seem to have aligned perfectly with her interest in herbal medicine, and she shows great promise as a healer. You’ll take the Velher name, of course, but Rikka will be moving into the Seket compound once you’ve married, and with the facilities we could provide for her here, she could easily become a credit to our family’s reputation. Finally, she is by all accounts quiet, shy, and kindhearted, and so unlikely to make life difficult for you.”

“I see,” Asaau said, when it seemed they were all finished talking. And he did see – he saw that the same arguments he’d hoped to use against the marriage were the very reasons his elders had decided on it.

Still, he had to try.

“May I ask you another question?”

The three matriarchs exchanged another look, half a heartbeat longer than the first.

“Ask,” his grandmother said.

“Rikka sounds…temperamentally unsuited to this family.” It was a thin argument, and Asaau knew it, but it was all he had. “Her low birth will win her nothing here, and she’ll be isolated from the rest of her blood relations. Some of Seket will see her presence as an insult to the family name, and likely would not hesitate to treat her accordingly. Your description of her makes me suspect emotional vulnerability on her part, which would leave her ill-equipped to handle such an environment. Might it not be better for her if she were to marry into a different family?”

They only looked at him, unspeaking, unblinking. Asaau felt as if he could scarcely breathe under the weight of their silence.

It stretched on, and on.

“Why are you trying to escape this marriage, Asaau?”

Asaau said nothing. To admit that he was would be to risk his grandmother’s displeasure, and that of his great-aunts. To deny it might be to deny his last chance to say anything.

“You are trying to escape it, are you not?”

“Yes,” he finally said, looking down at his hands. His voice was half a whisper.

“Is there someone else you wish to marry?”

“There is, Grandmother.”

“Who?”

Asaau didn’t – couldn’t - reply.

“Who?!”

“Orise,” he blurted out, the truth frightened from him, and that one word triggered a flood. “Orise seventh of Ilisaf, I – please, she’s all I want, she is – everything –” He could no longer keep the feeling from his voice, not for this; everything was pouring out in a desperate, hopeless rush. Tears pricked at his eyes, and Asaau was helpless to stop them. “I love her. I love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone else in my life. All I want is to belong to her and be by her side and – and – I love her so much it makes me feel sick sometimes, pathetic because of how unable I am to control what I feel for her – she could ask anything of me, anything in the world and I’d do it because it was she who asked –”

“You cannot marry her.”

“Please!” He was full of a shaking disgust for himself, but kept going even as his voice broke. “I beg you, I will do anything if you allow me this, I will –”

“You will be silent and listen.” His grandmother’s voice was ice. “Orise is already engaged to Vene, fifth of Tauhrelil. They are to be wed before the end of the year.”

Asaau fell silent.

“With that out of the way, Asaau, have you any further objections to your own engagement?”

He shook his head, too stunned to speak.

“Then we are done here.”

The three women rose and made for the door, Asaau following a few feet behind them. Just before leaving the room, his grandmother turned to face him once more.

“Asaau.”

He dragged his gaze upwards to meet hers; the second he did, she dealt him a hard backhand blow to the untattooed side of his face, enough that he staggered and fell to his knees. His grandmother wore rings on every finger, and some of them had cut him, the marks standing out starkly against his pale skin. Asaau knew that the bruising that was soon to follow would be far worse.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” his grandmother asked. So long as she was looking down at him, Asaau didn’t dare pick himself up from the floor.

“I…I beg your forgiveness,” he said. The words tasted of blood. “My demands were selfish. I thought…I thought only of myself, instead of my family as a whole.” Tears threatened again, but this time Asaau forced them back. “The marriage you have chosen for me…is much better for our family than a marriage to Orise would have been. I thank you for protecting me from my own foolishness.”

After a few moments, he heard her receding footsteps, and then the closing of the door. It was a long time before Asaau pushed himself to his feet and left as well.

When he did go, it was in search of Orise.

He could tell that Orise knew what had happened the moment she saw him. Her leaf-green eyes widened and her lips parted as if to say the first syllable of his name; then she was up and coming to him, pulling him to her, guiding him to the couch where she sat and pushing him down onto the spot next to hers.

“Asaau,” she murmured, caressing his unhurt cheek. “Asaau, Asaau, my poor Asaau…”

Her voice was the most soothing sound in the world to him; her touch was almost enough to make him cry again. All Asaau wanted to do was stay like this and just let Orise comfort him, but there was one question that he couldn’t leave unasked.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, Asaau,” she said, and the sound of her, sadness touched ever so faintly with gentle reproach, sent an aching spike through his chest. She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. “Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred to tell you myself? I meant to, I truly did. I wanted you to at least hear it from me, instead of having to learn of it from someone else…I thought I’d have more time. The engagement only became official a few days ago.” Orise looked down at their intertwined hands, then back up at him. “How did you find out? How did whoever told go about telling you?” Her gaze fell on his wound and grew slightly colder, in a way that Asaau had learned to be cautious of. “It doesn’t seem as if they did it kindly.”

“I…” The news of his own engagement stuck in his throat like a rock. He dropped his gaze, momentarily unable to face her. “They – that is, it happened when…when I was told that I was to be engaged, as well. Earlier today. My family’s council brought me before them to inform me, and I…Orise, I made such a gods-damned fool of myself…”

“You can tell me,” she said softly, leaning in even closer. “Go on, Asaau. It’s alright.”

He let out an unsteady sigh, then eventually went on.

“They told me who they’d chosen for me, some Velher, they’re marrying me to a Velher – ! I tried to get out of the marriage on some pretext, but of course it didn’t work, my grandmother had already decided it would be best for the family…they asked me why I was trying to get out of it. I…I let them know that it was because there was someone else I wanted to marry…” He finally glanced up, meeting Orise’s eyes with a hurt, helpless look. “It was you, of course it was you, and I – gods help me, I told them exactly how I feel about you, held nothing back in the hopes that if I could just make them understand –”

Asaau’s voice broke, and for the moment, he couldn’t continue.

“And that’s when they told you that I was engaged,” Orise finished. “And then you were punished for – gods, for being in love with me…”

Before Asaau could say anything, Orise enveloped him in a tight embrace, her chin resting on his shoulder as her hands rubbed gently up and down his back. Asaau returned it in an instant, burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding on as if he never wanted to let go.

“Asaau,” Orise said again, and the gentleness with which she spoke his name almost broke his heart. “Gods help us, Asaau, why didn’t you tell me you’d – that you’d felt this strongly, I didn’t – I never knew –” He felt her body rise against his as she took a deep breath. “If you’d told me, if I’d known, then we could have…we could have…”

He’d broken down in tears by then, but that was alright now. With Orise, it was alright. His body shook with sobs, and though it was hard to tell as they held each other, he thought she might be crying too.

“We could fight it,” he said in a raw voice, once he was able to speak again.

“Oh, Asaau…”

“We could. Or we could run, elope – all we need is a knife and witnesses, we could –”

“We can’t.” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I can’t.”

“But we –”

“What would that do to our families, Asaau?” Orise cut him off. “To their reputations? To politics? To succession and inheritance?” She lifted her face to look at him. “We could, but…there are bigger things to consider than the two of us. We’re not some pair of commoners – we can’t just vanish and expect there to be no consequences…we have to do the proper thing. Even if it hurts. We owe it to our blood.

“But you know, Asaau…it’s not as if this means we need to stop seeing one another.” Orise pulled back to press a light kiss to the wound on his cheek, then another, slightly longer one to his lips. When she broke away, he pulled her back in for another – surprise flitted across her face when he did so, but he could feel her smile as her mouth opened for his. The smile was still there when they parted. “Or doing this…I know it’s not the same as marriage…but at least we don’t have to quit each other.”

It wasn’t enough, Asaau thought as Orise kissed him again. It would never be enough…but, at the same time, he knew that it would have to be.

“I love you,” he said, quietly, as if unsure he were allowed.

“I know you do,” Orise whispered. “I know, Asaau.”

Gods’ blood, Orise thought when she saw Asaau, someone told him before I could. Shock and concern were the right faces to wear for this, and the first thing to do was soothe him – Orise needed to know who’d told, but Asaau was in no fit state to talk about whatever had just happened to him, that much was obvious. She brought him to sit down next to her right away.

“Asaau,” she murmured, caressing his unhurt cheek. She’d figured out long ago how much he liked to hear his name in her voice, especially when he was upset. “Asaau, Asaau, my poor Asaau…”

Soft words and soft touches until he was ready to talk. Orise was almost certain she knew what Asaau would say first.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gods, she loved being right.

“Oh, Asaau,” she said. His face twisted at the sound of her voice, and Orise noted it with an internal pleasure. He was so easy to play in exactly the way she wanted that it had become almost comforting, like rereading an old, well-loved book. Orise leaned forward and took his hands to add another layer of intimacy. The desperate way Asaau responded to her touch sent a low thrill through her.

“Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred to tell you myself? I meant to, I truly did. I wanted you to at least hear it from me, instead of having to learn of it from someone else…I thought I’d have more time. The engagement only became official a few days ago.” All this was true, at least. Orise had wanted to manage Asaau’s reaction to her engagement directly, to minimize the damage it would do, but now someone had robbed her of her chance to do so. Still, him coming to her immediately after finding out was almost as good, and would have been her second-choice scenario.

Orise looked down at their intertwined hands, then back up at him. Faking hesitance, as if she were afraid that the next question would hurt him. As if she weren’t already positive of the answer.

“How did you find out? How did whoever told go about telling you?” Orise glanced at the wound on his face again; anger flared briefly within her. Asaau was hers. “It doesn’t seem as if they did it kindly.”

“I…”

He dropped his gaze, which intrigued her. How had he shamed himself?

“They – that is, it happened when…when I was told that I was to be engaged, as well. Earlier today. My family’s council brought me before them to inform me, and I… Orise, I made such a gods-damned fool of myself…”

So her theory about who’d told him had been correct – she was surprised the Velher family had accepted the marriage offer that quickly. Had expected them to be more suspicious, more hesitant to accept a proposal that seemed too good to be true… though speaking of hesitance, if Asaau was this hesitant about whatever he was about to tell her, then it was bound to be good.

“You can tell me,” she said softly, leaning in even closer. “Go on, Asaau. It’s alright.”

He let out an unsteady sigh. Orise had to hold back a smile when she heard it.

“They told me who they’d chosen for me, some Velher, they’re marrying me to a Velher – !”

That’s right, my dear, Orise thought, and maybe if your family didn’t have that attitude towards other bloodlines in the first place, they wouldn’t have crisis of incest brewing now.

“I tried to get out of the marriage on some pretext,” he was going on, “but of course it didn’t work, my grandmother had already decided it would be best for the family…”

Better than adding yet another Ilisaf to your family’s gene pool, certainly.

“They asked me why I was trying to get out of it. I…I let them know that it was because there was someone else I wanted to marry…” Asaau finally got over his shame and let himself make eye contact with her again. “It was you, of course it was you, and I – gods help me, I told them exactly how I feel about you, held nothing back in the hopes that if I could just make them understand –”

Orise realized that his feelings had to go even deeper than she’d previously assumed. She’d always known that he’d been infatuated with her, and that he’d wanted to marry her, but for him to actually attempt to defy the Seket matriarchs – when he had to have known how hopeless that was, and how disastrous such an attempt could potentially be, on top of his existing phobia of displeasing the authority figures in his life? The intensity of feeling he’d have to have in order to overcome those barriers was far greater than what she’d ascribed to him up until now, and Orise knew that she was going to have to sit down and reassess this particular relationship later. That kind of intensity could end up benefiting her, but it could also cause disaster.

The idea that Orise could cause that kind of obsession in someone set off a pleasurable little shiver in her, although she concealed it.

When Asaau’s voice broke on “understand,” Orise decided that it would be easier if she just finished this part for him.

“And that’s when they told you that I was engaged,” she said. “And then you were punished for – gods, for being in love with me…”

Now that Asaau was good and emotionally destabilized, Orise enveloped him in a tight embrace – firm but gentle physical intimacy that would take Asaau by surprise and let her keep leading the interaction. Asaau returned the embrace instantly, as she’d known he would, burying his face in the crook of her neck and holding on as if he never wanted to let go. As if he depended on her for warmth.

Gods, wasn’t that a sad joke. Good thing Asaau couldn’t see her face.

“Asaau,” Orise said again. She cradled his name with her voice, knowing full well what that kind of tenderness did to him. “Gods help us, Asaau, why didn’t you tell me you’d – that you’d felt this strongly, I didn’t – I never knew –” She took a deep breath, as if trying to steady herself. Not that she needed it. “If you’d told me, if I’d known, then we could have…we could have…”

That touch of blame was enough to push Asaau past his breaking point, which was what she’d been trying to do – and frankly, if Asaau ended up blaming himself entirely for this situation, then so much the better for her. Orise let him cry against her as she thought of different things he might say next and prepared fitting responses.

“We could fight it,” he said in a raw voice, once he was able to speak again. She wasn’t surprised to hear him say it.

“Oh, Asaau…” You poor, sweet, desperate, romantic fool.

“We could. Or we could run, elope – all we need is a knife and witnesses, we could –”

“We can’t.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, pretending as if the words were bitter to her. “I can’t.”

“But we –”

That’s enough.

“What would that do to our families, Asaau? To their reputations?” That, she knew, would bring him back down to earth hard. “To politics? To succession and inheritance?” She lifted her face to look at him – eye contact to drive the point home. “We could, but…there are bigger things to consider than the two of us. We’re not some pair of commoners – we can’t just vanish and expect there to be no consequences…we have to do the proper thing. Even if it hurts.” Hurts him, anyway. “We owe it to our blood.”

From the look on his face, Orise could tell that she’d crushed those particular romantic delusions to dust. Good. She had no intention whatsoever of running away. This city held all her ambitions, and her bloodline and social position were the key to them. Like hell she was going to give those up by eloping with Asaau. Orise enjoyed him quite a bit, and he was often useful to her, but he would never be her entire life the way he seemed to want her to be his.

Still, he really was awfully fun. Orise thought that now would be a good time to soften the blow just a bit.

“But you know, Asaau…it’s not as if this means we need to stop seeing one another.” Gods forbid. For one thing, Orise wanted to explore this obsession of his and see what it could do for her. For another…she pressed a light kiss to the wound on his cheek, then another, slightly longer one to his lips. Testing to see if he wanted it, too. When she stopped, he pulled her back in right away, even faster than she’d been expecting, and she smiled as she opened her mouth for him. The smile was still there when they parted. “Or doing this…I know it’s not the same as marriage…but at least we don’t have to quit each other.”

Or at least she hoped not. Orise kissed him again, loving the easy familiarity of it, so similar to the easy familiarity of fucking with his mind.

“I love you,” he said. Quiet. Vulnerable.

It was all she could do not to grin.

“I know you do,” Orise whispered. “I know, Asaau.”

#♔ ⟪ FACTS. ⟫ ♔#♔ ⟪ STORIES. ⟫ ♔

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l0vesickened · 7 years ago

Text

If anyone’s curious about how Asaau found out about his engagement to Rikka and Orise’s to Vene, and how Orise handled him finding out, I wrote a thing for it. Warnings for depictions of an abusive family dynamic and a toxic/one-sided relationship.

“There… there must be some kind of mistake.”

His grandmother’s gaze sharpened, and Asaau quickly backtracked.

“Do you object to this engagement, Asaau?” his grandmother asked.

“No!” The word flew forth on instinct. “No, I – you know better than one as young as I, I beg your forgiveness if my words suggested otherwise –”

The women exchanged a look.

“Very well,” one of his great-aunts said, in tones that suggested they were doing him a favor he didn’t deserve.

Orise. For her, he was doing this for her, for them. I’ll get myself free of this for you, I’ll make them see, I promise…

“You understand, of course,” his great-aunt began, “the problems that come from having a limited choice in blood. Few families are worthy of joining their bloodlines to ours, and we’ve suffered for it. Too much Seket to Ilisaf, too much Seket to Tekkar… far too much Seket to Seket. Too many stillbirths and malformed children. Perhaps we can fix this with genetic manipulation, I hear you asking, but pruning a few sick branches won’t do anything if the whole tree begins to decay. Better to open ourselves to other families than to have to edit every new child’s genes just to make it capable of surviving outside the womb. The ancient house of Seket will not be brought down by such a narrow form of pride. We must have new blood.”

Still, he had to try.

“May I ask you another question?”

The three matriarchs exchanged another look, half a heartbeat longer than the first.

“Ask,” his grandmother said.

“Rikka sounds… temperamentally unsuited to this family.” It was a thin argument, and Asaau knew it, but it was all he had. “Her low birth will win her nothing here, and she’ll be isolated from the rest of her blood relations. Some of Seket will see her presence as an insult to the family name, and likely would not hesitate to treat her accordingly. Your description of her makes me suspect emotional vulnerability on her part, which would leave her ill-equipped to handle such an environment. Might it not be better for her if she were to marry into a different family?”

They only looked at him, unspeaking, unblinking. Asaau felt as if he could scarcely breathe under the weight of their silence.

It stretched on, and on.

“Why are you trying to escape this marriage, Asaau?”

Asaau said nothing. To admit that he was would be to risk his grandmother’s displeasure, and that of his great-aunts. To deny it might be to deny his last chance to say anything.

“You are trying to escape it, are you not?”

“Yes,” he finally said, looking down at his hands. His voice was half a whisper.

“Is there someone else you wish to marry?”

“There is, Grandmother.”

“Who?”

Asaau didn’t – couldn’t - reply.

“Who?!”

“You cannot marry her.”

“Please!” He was full of a shaking disgust for himself, but kept going even as his voice broke. “I beg you, I will do anything if you allow me this, I will –”

“You will be silent and listen.” His grandmother’s voice was ice. “Orise is already engaged to Vene, fifth of Tauhrelil. They are to be wed before the end of the year.”

Asaau fell silent.

“With that out of the way, Asaau, have you any further objections to your own engagement?”

He shook his head, too stunned to speak.

“Then we are done here.”

The three women rose and made for the door, Asaau following a few feet behind them. Just before leaving the room, his grandmother turned to face him once more.

“Asaau.”

What do you have to say for yourself?” his grandmother asked. So long as she was looking down at him, Asaau didn’t dare pick himself up from the floor.

“I… I beg your forgiveness,” he said. The words tasted of blood. “My demands were selfish. I thought… I thought only of myself, instead of my family as a whole.” Tears threatened again, but this time Asaau forced them back. “The marriage you have chosen for me… is much better for our family than a marriage to Orise would have been. I thank you for protecting me from my own foolishness.”

After a few moments, he heard her receding footsteps, and then the closing of the door. It was a long time before Asaau pushed himself to his feet and left as well.

When he did go, it was in search of Orise.

“Asaau,” she murmured, caressing his unhurt cheek. “Asaau, Asaau, my poor Asaau…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Oh, Asaau,” she said, and the sound of her, sadness touched ever so faintly with gentle reproach, sent an aching spike through his chest. She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. “Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred to tell you myself? I meant to, I truly did. I wanted you to at least hear it from me, instead of having to learn of it from someone else… I thought I’d have more time. The engagement only became official a few days ago.” Orise looked down at their intertwined hands, then back up at him. “How did you find out? How did whoever told go about telling you?” Her gaze fell on his wound and grew slightly colder, in a way that Asaau had learned to be cautious of. “It doesn’t seem as if they did it kindly.”

“I…” The news of his own engagement stuck in his throat like a rock. He dropped his gaze, momentarily unable to face her. “They – that is, it happened when… when I was told that I was to be engaged, as well. Earlier today. My family’s council brought me before them to inform me, and I… Orise, I made such a gods-damned fool of myself…”

“You can tell me,” she said softly, leaning in even closer. “Go on, Asaau. It’s alright.”

He let out an unsteady sigh, then eventually went on.

“They told me who they’d chosen for me, some Velher, they’re marrying me to a Velher – ! I tried to get out of the marriage on some pretext, but of course it didn’t work, my grandmother had already decided it would be best for the family… they asked me why I was trying to get out of it. I… I let them know that it was because there was someone else I wanted to marry…” He finally glanced up, meeting Orise’s eyes with a hurt, helpless look. “It was you, of course it was you, and I – gods help me, I told them exactly how I feel about you, held nothing back in the hopes that if I could just make them understand –”

Asaau’s voice broke, and for the moment, he couldn’t continue.

“And that’s when they told you that I was engaged,” Orise finished. “And then you were punished for – gods, for being in love with me…”

“We could fight it,” he said in a raw voice, once he was able to speak again.

“Oh, Asaau…”

“We could. Or we could run, elope – all we need is a knife and witnesses, we could –”

“We can’t.” She pressed her face into his shoulder. “I can’t.”

“But we –”

“What would that do to our families, Asaau?” Orise cut him off. “To their reputations? To politics? To succession and inheritance?” She lifted her face to look at him. “We could, but… there are bigger things to consider than the two of us. We’re not some pair of commoners – we can’t just vanish and expect there to be no consequences… we have to do the proper thing. Even if it hurts. We owe it to our blood.

“But you know, Asaau… it’s not as if this means we need to stop seeing one another.” Orise pulled back to press a light kiss to the wound on his cheek, then another, slightly longer one to his lips. When she broke away, he pulled her back in for another – surprise flitted across her face when he did so, but he could feel her smile as her mouth opened for his. The smile was still there when they parted. “Or doing this… I know it’s not the same as marriage… but at least we don’t have to quit each other.”

It wasn’t enough, Asaau thought as Orise kissed him again. It would never be enough… but, at the same time, he knew that it would have to be.

“I love you,” he said, quietly, as if unsure he were allowed.

“I know you do,” Orise whispered. “I know, Asaau.”

“Asaau,” she murmured, caressing his unhurt cheek. She’d figured out long ago how much he liked to hear his name in her voice, especially when he was upset. “Asaau, Asaau, my poor Asaau…”

Soft words and soft touches until he was ready to talk. Orise was almost certain she knew what Asaau would say first.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Gods, she loved being right.

“Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred to tell you myself? I meant to, I truly did. I wanted you to at least hear it from me, instead of having to learn of it from someone else… I thought I’d have more time. The engagement only became official a few days ago.” All this was true, at least. Orise had wanted to manage Asaau’s reaction to her engagement directly, to minimize the damage it would do, but now someone had robbed her of her chance to do so. Still, him coming to her immediately after finding out was almost as good, and would have been her second-choice scenario.

Orise looked down at their intertwined hands, then back up at him. Faking hesitance, as if she were afraid that the next question would hurt him. As if she weren’t already positive of the answer.

“I…”

He dropped his gaze, which intrigued her. How had he shamed himself?

“They – that is, it happened when… when I was told that I was to be engaged, as well. Earlier today. My family’s council brought me before them to inform me, and I… Orise, I made such a gods-damned fool of myself…”

“You can tell me,” she said softly, leaning in even closer. “Go on, Asaau. It’s alright.”

He let out an unsteady sigh. Orise had to hold back a smile when she heard it.

“They told me who they’d chosen for me, some Velher, they’re marrying me to a Velher – !”

That’s right, my dear, Orise thought, and maybe if your family didn’t have that attitude towards other bloodlines in the first place, they wouldn’t have crisis of incest brewing now.

“I tried to get out of the marriage on some pretext,” he was going on, “but of course it didn’t work, my grandmother had already decided it would be best for the family…”

Better than adding yet another Ilisaf to your family’s gene pool, certainly.

“They asked me why I was trying to get out of it. I… I let them know that it was because there was someone else I wanted to marry…” Asaau finally got over his shame and let himself make eye contact with her again. “It was you, of course it was you, and I – gods help me, I told them exactly how I feel about you, held nothing back in the hopes that if I could just make them understand –”

The idea that Orise could cause that kind of obsession in someone set off a pleasurable little shiver in her, although she had to conceal it.

When Asaau’s voice broke on “understand,” Orise decided that it would be easier if she just finished this part for him.

“And that’s when they told you that I was engaged,” she said. “And then you were punished for – gods, for being in love with me…”

Gods, wasn’t that a sad joke. Good thing Asaau couldn’t see her face.

“We could fight it,” he said in a raw voice, once he was able to speak again. She wasn’t surprised to hear him say it.

“Oh, Asaau…” You poor, sweet, desperate, romantic fool.

“We could. Or we could run, elope – all we need is a knife and witnesses, we could –”

“We can’t.” She pressed her face into his shoulder, pretending as if the words were bitter to her. “I can’t.”

“But we –”

That’s enough.

“What would that do to our families, Asaau? To their reputations?” That, she knew, would bring him back down to earth hard. “To politics? To succession and inheritance?” She lifted her face to look at him – eye contact to drive the point home. “We could, but… there are bigger things to consider than the two of us. We’re not some pair of commoners – we can’t just vanish and expect there to be no consequences… we have to do the proper thing. Even if it hurts.” Hurts him, anyway. “We owe it to our blood.”

Still, he really was awfully fun. Orise decided that now would be a good time to soften the blow just a bit.

“But you know, Asaau… it’s not as if this means we need to stop seeing one another.” Gods forbid. For one thing, Orise wanted to explore this obsession of his and see what it could do for her. For another… she pressed a light kiss to the wound on his cheek, then another, slightly longer one to his lips. Testing to see if he wanted it, too. When she stopped, he pulled her back in right away, even faster than she’d been expecting, and she smiled as she opened her mouth for him. The smile was still there when they parted. “Or doing this… I know it’s not the same as marriage… but at least we don’t have to quit each other.”

Or at least she hoped not. Orise kissed him again, loving the easy familiarity of it, so similar to the easy familiarity of fucking with his mind.

“I love you,” he said. Quiet. Vulnerable.

It was all she could do not to grin.

“I know you do,” Orise whispered. “I know, Asaau.”

#△ ┆ STORIES. ┆ △

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