Lanisha
I generally try not to insert myself into the story (I don't always succeed of course!) but I did have to apologize for the huge wait for this chapter. My eyesight pretty much failed for over a month and is still less than 50%---some scary shit, lemmee tell you. Writing is kind of difficult----but I can't let these guys be stuck in this bad spot forever. And I also need an art fix (hint hint) Smash Hamster
R for language
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"And that is why I can hold him back from what he wants," Carson finished softly. "Tyr's Wolf is a darkangel, lanisha. A powerful one, to control a god even a portion of the time. But still---" He smiled coldly. "Nothing I am not used to."
There was no pain, no bitterness, almost no feeling in that statement. Only chill fact, a banker's assessment of his balance to date. And that upset me more than anything---the acceptance thing always bothered me, when a kid was put through hell and took it as just the way life worked.
Since I couldn't change the past one bit, I proceeded to get pissed off for the now instead. Everybody has their own way of dealing, I guess.
So. He'd lived with such a thing for eight years. Learned its nature in taking its punishment. And now, he was armed and he was ready, he was the big bad defending the fragile pretty-boy from getting his elven ass reamed, and I didn't need to worry 'bout nothin'.
His attempt to reassure me missed by a country mile, of course. I didn't know whether to hug him for the horror he'd finally shared with me, or punch him right in the beak for keeping his current status secret. I'd hid stuff, obliquely told a lie? Well, what the fuck had he done!
I compromised with my opposing impulses by jumping off the bed and pacing around the tent, swearing a blue streak.
"So you're saying this fuck---who I'm not the least bit afraid of, by the way---jumped in meaning to puppeteer you, and you turned the tables? Well ain't we Mr. Bad-ass! We don't need to tell our wimpy-assed lover the least thing about it----he wouldn't be any help, probably just run screaming at the thought of dealing with *another* darkangel!!"
His head tilted slightly as he watched me storm around. There was a smoke of desire in his eyes, and he licked his lips unconsciously. The head tilt was all Carson; the lip-licking wasn't.
The desire mighta come from both of them. It only made me madder, since I'd felt a stir of the same hot breeze myself. Dammitall! Elf or not, I had more control than this!
I would *not* desire this thing that was in his body. Would not.
Actually, now that I knew what it was---I felt nearly ready to puke. From disgust of course, not terror.
To prove it I stomped up to him, close enough to wave my fist in his face and almost take his nose off with it. He leaned back, startled. Now that gave me a grim pleasure. "Keith, you don't understand," he was fool enough to attempt to calm me
"I understand enough. You think I'm too much of a wimp to take it!" Frankly, I thought so too, but that was beside the point. "Goddammit, I *understand* that if I don't do what I'm told I'll be yanked right outta here! You want that? I read more fantasy than you, the whole 'I'll put the world save on hold' thing never works, because when you jump aside to focus on your damn friends and lovers, you all die anyway when the world fuckin' ENDS! It's logic, you moron!!!! Heard of the concept?"
The insult seemed to bite through the steel of him. His eyes flickered crimson, and he stood up in one smooth move to tower over me.
I wasn't intimidated. I kept yelling. I'd totally forgotten about the guards outside and the fact that tent walls made for pretty fine eavesdropping on the part of anyone cruising by the area. Irish blood and fire mana leads to high rage pretty quickly. Count in the fact that I felt panicky again, and you have a running mouth with no volume control. I can't even remember what I said, but I descended to the depths. Remarks about his mother and the relationship I'd had with her were prevalent.
Amazingly, Carson's voice remained soft even though his downwards stare defined scary. "Lanisha. You never knew my mother anymore than I did, and I doubt the physical likelihood of the positions you suggested anyway. And when have you *ever* done anything, using common sense as a guide?"
Now that put me in pause mode. I mean, he had a point. Okay---two points or even more. I hesitated, unfortunately long enough for him to embrace me.
"And you do not know everything. Logic, yes. I understand more readily than you as a rule. But you do not realize what the gods owe me." His lip quirked, something at odds with the totally arrogant look on his face.
"You know me best as your lover, as Carson. And truly that is most important to me. Nightwolf, you know a little, and I am glad for it though there are parts of him I wish you did not understand."
His eyes blazed, but only as stained-glass windows into darkness. He held me like I was a treasure, fragile, almost holy. How do you fight that?
How do you even try?
I tried. God help me, I put my hands flat on his chest, and pushed him away indignantly.
"I am a motherfucking grownup. I am a *wizard*. You do-not-need-to-protect-me-because-I-will-handle-it MYSELF!"
The push-away worked about as well as you'd expect on a guy of roughly the size and power of a freaking war tank. I.e., he didn't budge a physical inch. But something in his expression changed minutely, and I was instantly ashamed for being such a bitch. Which made me even angrier, natch.
But before I could shout one more word of macho hooey, my lover spoke flatly.
"So. Be careful, *wizard*. Grown-up or the child you resemble now, you may need protection from something unexpected in an instant."
The soft, almost toneless voice reached me through my mad like the touch of a scalpel, whereas maybe a returned shout would have just fanned my flame. I actually shut up, calmed down a hair, and looked at him more closely.
A cold, pure glory of battle-light shivered around him like frost-blue aura on the edge of sight. Even more unnerving, that awful, impartial distance as he studied me. Not as his lover or even as a friend. Nor was it anything to do with the Wolf. This was the face his enemies saw in battle, and I tell you frankly to have that remote, outer-planet expression turned on me for even an instant redefined scary. Freddy Kruger himself woulda hung up his claws and booked it double-time before something bad happened to his overcooked ass.
Me? I was too stubborn---and stupid---to run. And I was in love with the guy, which I guess caused both conditions. "Don't look at me like that, you fucker," I managed to growl. It may have come out a hair weaker than I intended, but shaken or not I was being me to the bitter end of course. I summoned my best glare, and stared him right in that icy kisser. And I almost expected defiance to get me killed, this time. But there was nothing else I could do, seemed like.
After one more freezing, endless moment, his head tilted slightly. The ghost of his smile appeared, and the heavy shadow of his hair rustled around me as he stepped forward and pulled me into his arms decisively. And brother, I may be stupid but I wasn't dumb enough this time to argue about it for even a second.
"Fool," he remarked, very softly. "The Dark Rider, the Godslayer, you have rarely met, and I would prefer to keep it so." His breath touched my ear lightly as he lowered his head to nuzzle my cheek. "But it pleases me, that you have no fear even of him."
Well. Apparently he hadn't noticed that I was shaking like Jello in his embrace. Usually a thing like that wouldn't escape his attention, but who was I to question a bit of good luck? I coulda swore my teeth were chattering like dice being rattled in a cup, too. I locked my unstable choppers firmly and grunted something asinine with as little mouth movement as possible. "Afraid? Me? Batshit!"
His soft chuckle teased my ear again, and I was just as glad to tuck my face against his bare chest and not precisely look him in the eye. I was beginning to feel like a major jerk here. Why exactly had I yelled at him to begin with?
Oh yeh. So I wouldn't feel the pain of never, really, have succeeded in saving him after all.
His voice softened till it was barely audible, like thunder too distant to threaten storm yet.
"I am Bonded to a hawk of flame indeed! You have the bravest heart I've ever known. And the brightest spirit." He paused, then drew a quick breath, cat-soft. "But I need you to understand this, though I do not exactly want it so. From my childhood---I wanted you to be proud of me." He dropped his eyes, as if what he next said would make that impossible.
"They used me for their carnage, the gods. Before you came---I reaped this world for them. Often the innocent went with those named guilty. For I am a very efficient slayer, it seems." I looked up in time to watch his smile turn crooked, chilling yet somehow painful to look at for a different reason than the danger. At least for me. And the lack of dramatics, the calmness in his words, just underlined how important this was, and how hard it was for him to tell me. Yeh, he's a strange one---but by now, I could almost read him, my dark and moody lover.
Even with something else inside him snarling to get out, I still knew him. And I wished it would help to let him know that on some level, what he was telling me was no surprise.
"Even worse, lanisha. You are thinking that someone can be good at a job and yet hate it. But such is not the truth with me." He drew in a small sip of air, and his voice changed again, as if he spoke of something obnoxious, yet distant. "Do you think I am detached and noble, when I do it? I try to be so, but it is a lie. I relish killing. It is something he who was not my father left as a stain on my soul, perhaps. Because I---I never told you the worst of my time with him. Not that he tortured me, although he did do that. But before I learned to fight it---there were days stretching into weeks, when I shared his pleasure in what he did. To me, or to others. I experienced by the age of twelve things most serial killers only fantasize about." He drew another sip of breath. "I am lucky, that he always pushed the guilt upon me after he forced me to enjoy it. Or I might not have even wanted to stop, you see."
I can't begin to describe how slowly and softly these words came from him. Almost the ghost of a whisper, yet I heard them as if he'd screamed in anguish. And images---like a flicker of lightning across a drawn curtain in a horror movie, where the silhouette of the monster appears for a splintered second.
It sucks, being a scream flick fan. Every twisted movie I'd ever seen went through my mind. And I knew I'd never press him for details, because my own imagination was just too freaking good given my background in sick storylines.
But hearing a friend's confession makes the scary stuff a bit less fun, I guess. I thought of "Motel Hell" in particular for some reason, the most amusing cannibal movie ever made. But even I couldn't figure a way to wring a joke out of what he'd just sorta told me.
In fact---I couldn't really think of anything to say at all. I kinda wanted to cry instead of talk, actually. But that wouldn't be helpful, now would it?
I had to be strong for him.
It sucked.
He went on while I fought down my reaction, in almost a normal voice now. "And I am still not cured of it. Before you came here----it was all that made life bearable, to take it from others. Do you grasp your importance now, wizard? Without you---I am a monster. Worse. Without you, I enjoy being one."
I opened my mouth to argue at this low opinion of himself. But for once, he talked faster than I could. And not only that, he proceeded to make me feel like even worse with his next words. The hoser! I'd actually forgotten I'd been yelling at him; his short-term memory was harder to distract than mine.
"But you are angry at me for no reason, I don't want to protect you this time. I---I think I am instead asking you to help me fight again, lanisha."
He laughed almost nervously when I jerked my head off his chest and stared at him as if he were a pod person, or maybe possessed by someone who actually had s working brain. "You see---I was wrong, to try and shelter you from things we must face together. Nothing here matters, save for having you with me. This world and everything in it is meaningless if you aren't included. In everything, even that which I would prefer to shield you from." His face softened as I hung in his arms, stunned by the twin hammers of him actually begging for help and then dishing out sap of a purely monumental quality.
"I am afraid," he admitted quietly. "And only losing you could make me fear anything. And if this thing masters me, it will happen---no. Don't say you will forgive me for it. Because you speak without knowledge of what I would put you through, in that guise. No love could survive it." He finished this stun-fest almost conversationally. "So please, my love. Help me again, though it pains me to ask it."
How? I wanted to ask bitterly. Instead, I swallowed, and matched his tone. "Say the magic word again, then, goddammit. I don't work for free. Gonna take it outta you, sword-boy."
Darkangel. The stuff that hell was made of. Even worse now that I knew more about it. And I thought I'd known everything I needed. Batshit, could the day get any lousier?
Hell, no---today rocked, dammit! I had something to fight for here. I had a motherfucking purpose in life and that was always awesome!
Fight scary demons from the gruesomest doomy pits of Hell, eh? For him? To be with him?
You betcha. Bring the fucking badass on down. I owned you once, and I will so do it again! Let's dance, you motherfucker!
Of course I was probably just giving an inner pep talk to keep myself from barfing with stress. But it worked; suddenly I was defiant not scared, and that was way better. And I might as well have made my speech out loud, because somehow---I think Carse heard all of it.
He gave me a squeeze that nearly cracked ribs even though it was meant as gentle. "Pretty please?" he rumbled, and I started laughing semi-hysterically. The dark, intense voice just made the phrase even more damn silly. And silly was what was lacking in our lives at the moment, dang it.
"That'll do it, I reckon. Oh, balls!" I added, as he released me long enough to bend down and scoop something from near the bed.
Before I even heard the rattle, somehow, I knew damnwell what came next.
I didn't understand *why* I had to be locked in cuffs just yet. But I knew he was gonna do it. I knew it was important, and that I couldn't fight it.
And I knew damn well that I wasn't gonna like it worth a tin shit.
As if understanding, he dropped the cuffs on the bed and wrapped me in his arms. Began kissing me softly, murmuring gentle encouragement. And I was eager to accept his attentions and blow off all the heavy stuff till later. Fuck now, think after. Way to go!
Of course, it wasn't gonna be that easy. It never is, goddammit!
Wizard. I have done what I can. It may not be enough.
I've heard voices since I came to this world. When you have a knack for magic here, even the goddamn crickets try to strike up conversations. I couldn't quite place this voice, but I knew instantly I wasn't lucky enough that it would be just a bug trying to impress me with its tiny concerns.
You learn to filter these things. And generally I am good at blocking out. Especially with a mouth on mine like wet velvet, stealing my senses with warmth and hunger. I knew this was a being of at least human intelligence trying to get my attention, though, just from the vocab. You wouldn't believe the pidgin Humanspeak some critters torture a poor wizard with.
And damn if I cared at the moment! He she or it could wait!
They come to parley with you not to fight. They come against her, because I have betrayed her and revealed her alliances. But she is strong. No---IT is strong.
Carson broke from my lips to lick my cheek softly. His arms wove steel around me, pulling my body in close. I could ignore this quacking voice in my head easily. Go away, get lost. More important things to do here----
Wizard!! It is all the same thing!! They are of one mind, killing one before only angered them all!! And it remembers you especially, and hates you--- It will always hate you---it made ME hate you, when I don't even know you---
His tongue on my ear, slick hot magic. I groaned and arched and slipped my hand down his pants. Go away, leave us in peace to fuck our brains out!!! I don't WANNA think about this, dammit!
A mental whisper so small, I almost missed it.
Lanisha. Do you know what it really means?
Beloved. I am his beloved, and YOU are not, you son of a bitch!
"Lanisha," Carson whispered. His voice was hot and ragged, almost painful.
I shook my head free of stardust, and pulled back a little to look into his eyes. Dark electric blue, filled with love, desire---
And something else.
Something----hot. Something almost greedy.
"That word means---what?" I whispered. "Like---my translator says 'beloved'. But I know there's more to it---"
Carson drew a quick, savage breath and reached for my pants. "Damn you, teacher! Must you dicker over every word? Come here!"
I evaded his clutch; he was powerful and hella fast, but I was elf. I was smoke on the wind when I needed to be, elusive as a buttered cat. "Tell me what I wanna know first. Or go whack off in a dark corner!" Damn, I moaned to myself, way to get laid! Why am I pursuing this on the word of a---
I'm sorry, wizard. I've done what I can. It's---too strong for me---it is eating me alive---
A mental whimper. As I finally tried with alarm to find the source of the annoying voice it dwindled to cobweb fragility, then vanished. And Carson was---
Staring at me.
With anger. And yet, curiously----with a kind of relief.
"It means you are my Chosen." He enunciated carefully, as if talking to an idiot. "It means I love you beyond measure, treasure you beyond price----"
I was melting. I am not a soft touch even for Carse, but this was heavy-duty sap, I was super-horny, and the faint voice was becoming a memory already.
"---and that you know me. Inside and out, better perhaps than I know myself. We understand each other, protect each other, even when it seems---unnecessary."
There was weight to his words, beyond the meaning. His eyes touched me from two places, the hot lusting surface. And from somewhere deeper, hidden but strong.
Thank you, Carson. I hear ya, babe.
Thanks, you nameless interrupter of a guy's innocent pleasure in the boink!
I understood, even as I pretended to relax and let him gather me in again.
I understood that now, only the elf in me could save us both. And for the first time, I personally requested Mr. Keebler to step on forward and let 'er rip.
Big time.
TBC......
