Thar Shaddin

Azuel cringed when she wiped off her hand. It was not something he had been expecting to see, nor something that he particularly desired to. It was a painful reminder of what he had almost done, and what she still wanted to do. He looked down at the sheet that she had pulled over them, however briefly. He pushed it aside and crossed his legs, which he stared at briefly as if trying to will the remnants of his erection away. Once satisfied, he began looking back in her direction.

Azuel’s breath caught in his throat when he saw the scars. His first instinct was sympathy. The mattress rustled as his hand supported his weight, making as if to move after and comfort her. He almost instantly froze, suddenly struck by the realization that such an action could be insensitive as it might drag up painful memories. It did not occur to him that painful memories might be just what he needed to escape her affection.

Azuel’s second instinct was lust. She was still naked, after all. Azuel’s eye twitched before darting off defensively, as it was prone to do. He wondered if he should move from the bed. His nervous, birdlike eyes glanced around for alternatives, and saw the table with two chairs of solid make. It seemed both ideal and much, much safer. He couldn’t trust himself around her. Just before he started reaching for his shirt, he felt her breasts press against his back. He hesitated for a fraction of an instant, his arm just barely raised from the mattress, and it was in that instant that her arm draped over his shoulder, trapping him as surely as any prison. His shoulders slumped slightly, which had the unfortunate side effect of feeling her rub across him, eerily reminiscent of their previous actions.

He made as if to speak his mind and talk to her about the more serious matters of the situation, but her face brushed up against him. When her pointed ear traced its way through his hair, his mouth was left hanging slightly open, exhaling only a soft, noiseless wind. He struggled to form a coherent sentence, much less a full plan, with her so occupying his thoughts.

He was only barely paying attention to the books, but he made a decent show that he was. His left hand scratched at his beard like her childhood drawings were some sort of scholarly tome. He maintained the presence of mind to chuckle at her self-depreciative humor, but as he did so he tried to keep his back perfectly still.

He hadn’t remembered that book, but he remembered giving her the next couple. He reached his hands up. The book was a child’s book about the descendants, and there were few enough pages he would have to flip through. Supporting some of the book’s weight for Mire, with his free hand he spun through the pages. Sure enough, there was his family name, Vyaduka. The name was circled and had a little heart drawn next to it.

Azuel had never known how much he meant to her. The thought had been there all along, but it had never really stuck him until this moment. He had the influence, the influence of all mortals, to change the lives of others. When he had helped her, he hadn’t done so as a descendant. He had done so as a child, with nothing but kindness and sharing. It was a realization which was simultaneously both humbling and empowering. She had fallen in love with that child, not the Vyaduka he was today.

Still looking at the book, he worked his free hand down and started fiddling with his belt. It was still loosely attached, and his fingers clumsily, noisily started working the belt back through the loops.

At the sound of the belt buckle jingling, Mire dropped the books to the side and lay back on the bed. His hip fit in the curve of her body at her bare thighs and belly. Her thighs were almost parallel with his. Her upper torso was twisted so her back lay on the bed. Her right hand rested on her belly. The other was on the pillow, palm up, fingers caught slightly in her dark hair. A finger twirled a strand of hair and caressed her the tip of her ear. She stared at the bland colored ceiling.

Fighting his sense of right and wrong was exhausting. She had hoped to make a positive impact today, to undo the negative one she'd encouraged two year's prior. But, it seemed they were done here. The scent of him was everywhere. Did humans notice such things? She wanted to leave her scent on his skin. So, he would never, ever, ever forget her again. Was that selfish? Yes. She knew it was. But, that didn't change the wanting of it.

"Going to leave me wanting, huh?" She gave a winsome, rueful little smile to the ceiling before canting her eyes to look at him from their corners. The smile could be interpreted to take on a different texture with the look she gave him.

Azuel’s entire body stiffened at once. He had expected something of the sort, but not so soon. His hand dropped from the belt buckle like a criminal surrendering a weapon. He felt guilt assault him. His right hand wrapped around his side and his head hunched down a bit. His eyes rolled over to the side, where he could see the fringes of her soft brown hair. With his mind assailing him with images, his heartbeat picked up, beating twice where there had previously been but one.

An attempt to summon resolve created a flimsy structure of hay. He wasn’t sure if it would stand up to the big bad elf. He supposed he didn’t have much of a choice. She had to know how he felt about the situation. He had to make her understand what he had decided about her, about them, about everything. A rueful thought made him wonder if he even knew what he had decided on. If only he had time to think; ideally, this would be several day’s worth.

One thing was certain. His resolve was soon to be put to the test. He had to face her. He owed her that much. In some private corner of his thoughts, he acknowledged that he might just want to look at her again. He spun his legs such that they rested off the bed, hoping that such a motion would convey his intentions. Then, with agonizing slowness, he turned his gaze to meet Elemire’s.

Nothing in his thoughts could have prepared him for the sight of her. Whatever words he had intended to speak fled him. He couldn’t just tell her anything, it seemed. “Mire... I don’t think...” He swallowed, nervous, filled with respect for the power she had over him. His eyes couldn’t handle the site of her face. They chose to rest on her ear, which she toyed with mercilessly. His lips quivered before he quietly continued, “We can’t do this, Mire. What if... what if something happens? I-I mean, half elves are...” He ground his teeth, and decided to leave it at that. Alternative methods of intimacy had clearly not occurred to him.

Those words had not been the ones he had intended to say. He had meant to explain his political situation, or something intelligent that he couldn’t seem to recall now, seduced as he was by the siren song of her toying finger. He managed to tear his gaze from her ears, only to realize that his arm had somehow edged close to her, and supported his weight. In fact, he was surprised to discover that his whole body was leaning in her direction, leaving his head above her shoulder. He clamped his teeth together.

"I... uhm." Comprehension suddenly dawned on him. He was aware that his body language was very different from his words. "What is it you want to... uh."

Mire was watching him, that half-smile still on her lips. He turned until he was on all fours. With every word, he spoke, he was a little closer to her. Mire could feel his breath on her shoulder.

“Mire... I don’t think...”

"Did you know my ears are sensitive to the touch?"

“We can’t do this, Mire. What if... what if something happens? I-I mean, half elves are...”

"... Are part elf and part human?"

"I... uhm. What is it you want to... uh."

Her gaze was guileless, but perhaps tinged a little with latent desire.

"You could kiss me." Mire touched her breast, her lips, her ear with the hand not toying with her hair and other ear.

"You could touch me." She touched his hand briefly before sliding her hand down her belly to rest lower. "Here."

"You could stay just a little longer." The look on her face said 'don't go, please stay,' if only he could read her expressions. "You could lay next to me and we could talk about the last 14 years or so."

"Or..." Her gaze dropped somewhere lower, peering between his arms, past his bare chest to some where he'd figure out easy enough. She searched his face with her gaze and a little bit of insecurity peeked through from hers.

"I just don't want you to forget me again." Mire refrained from grabbing him and pulling him to her. She was offering. It was up to him if he took her up on the offer.

It was too much for Azuel. He couldn’t help himself. He needed to touch that ear. He pushed himself forwards, his chest ending pressed atop hers. He lifted his left arm and reached over her, his hand passing along her stomach to rest on the other side. His right hand wasted no time in pushing its way along the soft mattress to reach under Mire. Their two bodies were left at a perpendicular angle, his head to one side of hers. Due to the small size of her bed, his legs still hung from the side.

His head hesitantly lowering, Azuel turned his lips to kiss her ears. He tried to kiss the point, which evoked only a minor reaction. So he brought his left hand up under her armpit to press at it from both sides. As his fears gradually subsided, he began to nibble. Whenever he needed to stop, he would try to breathlessly whisper her name into her ear. “Mire... Elemire...”

Meanwhile, his right hand had been pressed against her arching stomach. He brought it up to fondle her breasts, but quickly grew nervous and embarrassed. He wrapped it around her back instead, lifting her a bit upwards. He experienced a sudden weakness, brought about by passion, and the two fell back down to hit the mattress. Azuel’s lips were knocked from her ear to hit the bed. His bare chest pressed against hers. Wondering if he was too heavy, he tried to prop himself up on his elbows.

Sheets were tossed aside. He wanted badly to feel the heaven between her legs again. He lifted his left leg and put it between her two, moving to put their bodies in a potion where their hips rested close to each other. His began to ache, perhaps in protest of being called to action again so soon. Azuel didn’t much mind, for it only masked the pleasure of the position and could not overcome it.

His right hand made short, darting movements out from behind her back in synch with the undulations of his body. It returned to her stomach with the regularity of the tides. It moved ever lower, but Azuel couldn’t quite bring himself to finger her.

While his hand flailed about her, his lips at least were free from indecision. He gradually moved downwards across her body so he could kiss at her neck. His lips gradually lowered until he nuzzled her breasts. His left hand snuck around behind her head to stroke at her hair. Every so often when she turned her head right, his searching fingers would blindly find and tease her ear, rubbing slowly behind them down to the point.

Despite his mild success with her ear, he worried. His face blushed as niggling doubts told him he had no idea what he was doing, despite his best efforts to ignore them. With sudden strength, he put his right hand next to her head and crawled upwards. His hips rested between her thighs once more, and he instinctively pushed in on them. He wondered internally if he was setting up false hopes in doing so. The reluctance he held filled him with regret and guilt. She deserved more.

The ear nibbles and him calling her name had a spectacular effect on her. Her eyes closed. She exhaled a soft breath and sucked it in through her teeth. Her hips moved of their own volition in a sensuous pattern. She responded to his touches.

"Yes."

At the graze of his hand on her breast, she arched into the touch. Her hand lifted to touch his, which made him pull his hand away. He squished her under his weight, but she didn't mind. Her face was buried in the curve of his shoulder and throat, so she nibbled, licked and kissed him, too.

Mire opened her eyes when Azuel moved to position himself more parallel to her. The nuzzle and kisses against her chest were rewarded with more approval as were the teasing touches on her ear. It was clumsy, but it was real.

When, he shifted again, her legs were propped with her feet on the bed putting her thighs in the way, keeping a teasing amount of space between them. Mire's head was turned offering her neck and ear for more kisses and bites. With each brush and touch, frustration and desire increased, making her bold and impatient. She wrapped her calves behind his legs. As one hand snaked between them to undo what he had redone, her other was delving into his hair, dragging down his back, pushing at the offending clothing trying to get him free of them once and for all.

"Please, Azu," she begged. "Just once! Please!"

Without warning, his trousers began to lower. Even a movement so simple sent waves of bliss through him. He moaned both from pleasure and disparaging what he knew now was his fate. He leaned in over her, pushing himself close and brushing his body against hers. His arms wrapped her in an embrace, both over her shoulders so as not to cease the workings of her hands. He moved his legs such that his actions could only be interpreted as granting her aid in her endeavors. His final garment shortly only covered the lower foot of his right leg.

Azuel waved his leg until it dropped away, the fabric slinking from the bed to collapse near his shirt after a moment’s hesitation. He hovered above her, ready in every way, uncertainty launching a final assault. Her calves pushed at him, driving him closer. He rested at the tip of her, long and erect.

“Mire,” he whispered breathlessly, his face mere inches from hers “I will never forget you.” He kissed her and plunged inside her simultaneously, pushing with a fervor that spoke of his desire. His whole body was rocked by the taste and feeling of her, and whatever strength he had remaining left him with haste.

The feeling of her lips on his, the feeling of her around him. It all came together to make one glorious feeling such as he had never before experienced. Though he shook, he pushed in and out of her. He could feel his need for release building steadily, growing in strength. He exhaled quickly, putting his breath through her lips only to receive hers in turn. It felt warm and comforting. He drew it in and pushed himself deeper.

He exhaled in short, staggering breaths. He was about to go, he could feel it. He tried to hold it, he needed just a little more time. The soft warmth he felt seemed to beg him to stay, stay below and release, consequences be damned.

Then he remembered her words.

"Please, Azu, just once! Please!”

Azu. She had called him Azu. Just like she had when they were young. A tiny spurt escaped him. “No!” he exclaimed, pulling himself backwards. He launched from inside her, spreading his fluids all across her thighs and the bed. He panted breathlessly, his head lowered. He couldn’t bear to look her in the eye.

“Mire,” He called her name as his last spatters left him, crawling forwards. “Mire, I am sorry, I just... Oh Teodinus, I’m sorry. I couldn’t risk it. We can’t risk it.”

“Mire, I will never forget you.”

Mire shivered at his words and held onto him tightly. The first push was hard and missed, the second did not. The sensation was exquisite, odd, and hurt a little. But, the pain was ok, she welcomed it. Her legs wrapped around his waist, calves against his buttocks helping him push harder, faster until, well... she hit the peak and moaned out his name, encouraging him on with,

"Azu! yes!" repeated over and over. Suddenly his whole body tensed and he ground out the word, "NO!"

At the start of another peak, he withdrew leaving a warm, wetness all over her. He pressed forward and she could feel he still throbbed. It was a strangely erotic sensation. She felt like a live wire. He was still a little hard, so she moved her hips against him teasing that little spot on her with him. A sound left her, part desire, part frustration. She wriggled against him a little more before giving up. His body was already receding into a more flaccid state.

"I know. I know...," Mire sighed out. Mire opened her eyes to look at him. That deprecating, wry smile had returned.

A throaty chuckle left her and she wriggled underneath him in protest of the end of things - different kind of wriggle. She gave him a squeeze hug with her arms and legs.

"You make me crazy, you know that?" Her smile broadened and she hugged him tightly again before stretching. Her body arched against his.

"I have shift soon, but I don't want to leave this spot." Mire sighed again shifted her body a little so Azuel could relax partially on the bed. "And, I should bathe. Care to join me?" She chuckled at his expression. He looked mortified by the thought.

"Okay, I know..." Turning her head suddenly, she looked at him intently, before looking away much more shyly despite being naked and partially entwined with him.

"Do you suppose we could catch up after my shift?"

Staring at the sheets was found to be a preferable alternative to looking her in the eyes. She continued to poke and prod his body, making him decidedly uncomfortable. Couldn’t they just be done for now?

He had failed her twice. Next time he would come prepared; they would have protection. Next time. What an odd thought. When had next time become an eventuality, rather than a hypothetical?

Azuel leaned to the side, resting himself on his elbow. Mire took the opportunity to hug him, taking the time to push her body erotically against him while she was at it. He could feel the cold of his semen on her body. He frowned uncomfortably before trying to find a way to lie down beside her, rather than over her.

"You make me crazy, you know that?"

“I make you crazy?” He breathed incredulously. That was not how he was seeing events. “Mire, you are...” His words were silenced by a returning feeling of discomfort. He had to talk to her seriously before it was too late. He had to tell her all that he had realized in-between their flashes of lust.

Somehow, none of it seemed to apply anymore. It was like he had built a brick wall keeping himself from expressing anything that might end their time together. He resolved to try anyways, “Mire, listen, we-“

"I have shift soon, but I don't want to leave this spot."

Oh. Then there wasn’t time to speak with her about this. Part of him was worried, but the other part was afraid she would never allow him the chance. She shifted herself a bit, making room for him. Grateful, Azuel rolled over, heavily landing on his side. His shoulder pressed into the mattress while his head did likewise for the pillow.

"And, I should bathe. Care to join me?"

Wanting nothing so much as to sink into the earth and vanish, he settled on pushing himself into the mattress. Her chuckle restored some of his courage, and he soon raised himself back up. He stared across into her eyes, two light green orbs which judged his every twitch. Unable to help himself, but putting up no real effort into doing so, he leaned in and nuzzled her. He at least made certain that they did not kiss. He didn’t want to rekindle anything in either of them.

"Do you suppose we could catch up after my shift?"

He stopped nuzzling her, his head left a bit below her chin. The rise and fall of her breast was plainly within his sight, the motion hypnotizing in nature. “I’ll... I’ll need some time to think, Mire.” He closed his eyes and curled a bit, wrapping one of her hands in his own. “I’ll come back for you, I’ll... We need to talk. About things, and where they are now. Where we are now.” He pushed himself away from her, making motions to disentangle their bodies and let her leave to bathe. “I need to think.”

When he nuzzled her, she nuzzled him back with a little, feminine giggle-chuckle.

His head lowered rest on her collarbone and he took her hand in his. "I'll need some time to think"

She blinked slowly, but the smile on her face turned a little sad. He said he would come back, but she didn't think he really would. She nodded in mock acquiescence of his request attempting to look alright with the situation.

"Sure, of course!" Mire gave him a bright smile and slid away from him to stand. She stretched again, unashamed of her body or his seeing of it now that they had been mostly successful in their intimacies. Her hands fell to her head and pulled the tie loose. Dark brown hair fell around her face. The tips of her ears pointed out from the fall of hair on either side of her head.

Leaning down, Mire caught up his clothes in her hands and placed them on the bed. "I'm looking forward to seeing you again, Azu." The statement was soft, the tone a little vulnerable, and was followed by her leaning over him to give him a kiss on his shoulder.

"Are you hungry? Do you want anything before you go? If you're tired you can rest. Just leave the key above the door on the outside lintel." To be fair, he'd just ended his overnight shift and she'd made him expend quiet a bit of energy. He probably was a little tired, she thought. Mire gestured to this and that as she moved toward the bathroom. The key hung on a hook by the door. The scars were plainly visible again.

How did you conclude something like this? She wasn't throwing him out, by any stretch of the imagination, but the conclusion was a little awkward. So, Mire did what she would normally do, and acted as if having him in her bed was the most natural thing in the world.

Stepping into the bathroom, she turned on the bath. The running water sound filled the whole of the apartment. It was a small apartment after all. Would he wait for her or would leave before she got out? That was something that ran through her mind as she poured water down her body. Maybe he would join her... maybe he wouldn't. A few soap bubbles slid down her skin and she rinsed her hair and body.

Bathing was perfunctory and quick. Living in an orphanage and a barracks trained one to some things efficiently and quickly. When she emerged from the bathroom, she was wrapped in a towel, covered for the first time in more than an hour. Her hair was damp, but toweled dry. Mire looked to see if Azuel had remained as she opened the closet and pulled out undergarments.

He was gone. Mire paused, frozen for a moment by regret. She dropped suddenly into a crouch and dug her hands into her hair. Her fingers brushed her ears.

If only she wasn't an elf! Even if she had surgery to round out her ears, she'd still be an elf. Nothing could change that. She should have just left him alone. She'd forced him, taken advantage of him, and she knew it. For the first time in years, a loud wracking sob shuddered through her whole body. Mire dropped to her knees and berated herself.

"Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Selfish! Stupid! You don't deserve him anyway, do you? Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!"

The bells on her alarm clock went off. She had thirty minutes until her shift started. Sitting up on her haunches, Mire wiped the back of her hand across her face and shuddered in another breath. Later. After her shift, she would go and get utterly drunk and try to forget.

"Augh." Snot had smeared with the swipe of her hand. Forcing herself to stand she moved to the kitchen sink to wash her face and hands, then blow her nose. Next, she moved to turn off the alarm. The rest was rote. Dress, eat, lock the door, go down the stairs, and log-in for her shift.

Coupled with her self-hate were memories of how things felt: warm and fuzzy, frustrating and awkward... wrong AND happy and right.

On patrol, her partner Veridian, looked at her a few times before finally asking her,

"Mire, what's wrong?"

Mire sighed. "Nothing, Ver. I don't want to talk about it. We up for darts after shift?" Mire forced herself to give Veridian a smile.

Veridian let it slide.

"Sure, Mire. You know Húlben's been asking about you."

"Oh..."

"He'll probably be there tonight. You should give him a chance, Mire. He's a good guy, a real upstanding elf."

Mire nodded. "Yeah, maybe."

The patrol was uneventful: a few reports of shoplifting, a few round-ups of the usual suspects and suddenly first watch was over. In the locker room, Mire changed into her regular clothes, ignoring the other guards who were doing the same. Co-ed, was co-ed and you got used to it and you occasionally teased each other in ways that weren't exactly appropriate. Mire laughed off a few.

"Looking good, Oranrae!"

"You know it, buddy!" Mire faked a grin and pointed at the guy who'd cat called her before moving out the door.

Yes. A drink would be good. Darts with Veridian and everything would be back to normal, right? Right.

"I'll need some time to think"

He needed time to think, so she would give it to him.

Something about her enthusiastic response bothered him, but his body ached and he felt a distinct pressure closing around his mind. Any other time or situation might have seen Azuel comprehend the hidden meaning of her words through the inflection of her voice, the subtle sorrows on her face, but now he faced enough distractions and doubts he worried they would occupy his thoughts for a lifetime.

The weight of his own body seemed an insurmountable obstacle for him, but it was apparent no such exhaustion had yet claimed Mire. She rolled off the bed and stood lithely exposing her whole body to him. Though unable to move his body, his eyes were active and took in the sight. He could hardly believe that he had just lain with her.

His head pushed into the pillow and he flopped from his side onto his chest. He had entirely too many concerns at the moment, and was unable to decide where to start: how to keep it secret or how to gracefully reveal it, how to deal with aging while she did not and the continuing risk of pregnancy. He didn’t even know what he wanted out of their relationship. This was truly a nightmare.

She kissed his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the whirlwind within his head, before asking if he wanted to stay. Teodinus, did he ever. But that was not a wise course of action. He raised his lips from the pillow and softly, ambiguously replied “I’ll be fine.” Hesitation followed as she started walking away. He whispered “Thanks” to her scarred back. The sight of her abuse made him nervous, forcing his eyes away and down to the safe, even white of the pillow.

As she bathed, he lurched into a sitting position. She had left marks upon him; he could still feel her upon his skin in the form of the saliva of her lips and the fluids she had left between his legs. How had something that had felt so good left him feeling so revolted? How had it made him feel so good that he wanted more, wanted it badly enough to risk everything?

He shivered, as if it might throw her presence from his form. It did not, and a heavy sigh left him. He did need time to think this over. Perhaps this gap was for the best. He grabbed for his shirt, crumpled and messy from its treatment, and reluctantly threw it back over his head. His trousers soon followed.

Being simple things of grey and brown, he might have made a depressing sight. It suited him just fine. Colors would have cheapened the crushing weight of the turbulent feelings which tormented him. He stumbled for the door. She was gone from view and touch. Freedom was his at last. He gave a harsh chuckle at the notion that he was some sort of slave. He knew he had made the choices which had led to this. He could not deny them.

His hand rested on the door handle. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was going to hurt her by doing this. It wasn’t a conscious thought, but his hand only turned the knob slowly. With the caution of a mouse eluding a cat, he slowly opened the door. The creaking of the door seemed to overwrite the winds outside and the water within, but Azuel was fairly certain he was blowing it out of proportion. It was just a creaky door playing on his fears.

He bit his lip and closed it. As he exited, her nearly tripped over his own feet and stumbled forwards. His hand had not left the door, and though it swung about he managed to stabilize himself using it. He chastised himself; he must be well and truly distracted. Upon regaining his composure, he placed both hands on the handle and pushed it silently closed.

It had grown windy in the time they had spent together. His clothing flapped to his side, yet he was not even in the street yet. He put a hand to the railing and descended the steps with shaking legs. His rebellious garb continued to flap like a flag, forcing Azuel to hold it down with one of his arms.

His horse was stabled at the fort. Azuel supposed he would have to go and fetch him. He just hoped nobody who had seen the two of them leave the fort together would see him coming back. Azuel sighed, wondering if he was overestimating the judgments people passed upon him. Chances were most of the witnesses had already forgotten about the scene. Descendant or not, Azuel had worked very hard throughout his life to keep himself beneath everyone’s notice. It had worked on everyone except Mire, he thought bitterly.

He scuffed his feet on the stone road, frustrated. If it ever came up, he’d have to make certain he didn’t accidentally use her nickname in public. Such a thing implied familiarity. He was living a secret now. How horribly romantic.

His thoughts degenerated into a sulk the entire distance to the fort. On habit, he strode right through the front gates and walked through the stable. Only when he rubbed at his horse’s snout did he realize that he had been so focused on introspection and moping that he had neglected to check who witnessed his return. He fumed, furious with himself as he reached for the bridle. He couldn’t afford to make mistakes like that.

If he searched around, he could probably find a stable hand to do this for him. But the Vyadukas were nothing if not self-reliant, and Azuel wasted no time in putting the bit in his horse’s mouth. He pressed the piece against its lips and brought it to its proper place before the molars. All was habitual enough that he continued to be tormented by his wandering mind.

His hands worked to fasten the buckles as he wondered what he was going to do in the immediacy. He continued to grasp for some sort of starting point from which he could formulate a plan, drawing up a blank each time. He needed some sort of help, but he didn’t know where to turn. There was nobody he knew who wouldn’t lose all respect for him the moment he said a word as the situation.

When Azuel finished with the bridle, his hands dropped to the sides. His sister’s face appeared before him, smiling sweetly and deviously. Not for the first time today, Azuel was wracked by indecision. His first thought was a worst case scenario: he couldn’t dare tell her a thing. It might well wind up as the knowledge of half the city.

His horse snorted in his face, apparently impatient. He closed his left eye and turned his face away from the beast’s smelly breath, reaching for the saddle. This too he was practiced at, and slung the pad over the animal’s back. The saddle followed shortly after, and as Azuel worked at its straps he simultaneously attempted to work through the inscrutable puzzle of his life. His sister had... experience with this sort of thing. If he was being perfectly honest with himself, he would be surprised if she hadn’t slept with at least a couple elves. Of course, her escapades were old news and forgotten by the upper classes and general public both, so she was hardly a safe choice. But he didn’t know who else to turn to.

The saddle secured, Azuel led the horse from the stable before pulling himself onto it and setting off. Besides, he wanted to trust her. Just once, he wanted to be able to think his sister still had hope.

He sighed and shook his head. It was risky. He was aware he was acting partially on a half-formed desire to reconcile with her. However, he also acknowledged that he didn’t have many other options. He knew no one else who would have any motive at all to not immediately reveal him to the public eye. Perhaps, just perhapse, his brother. But he’d rather retain his brother’s respect. Latifa would only laugh at him, but she wouldn’t be disappointed. Azuel was rather tired of disappointment.

He guided his stallion off down winding roads. It was early enough in the morning that the streets were somewhat bare, and even distracted as he was Azuel felt safe ushering his steed along at a brisk pace. He lost his hearing to the combination of natural wind and that which was the result of his movement. His ears burned with the chill, and he raised his hand to push at one, warming them through touch. He wondered idly how much worse it was for Mire. He supposed she’d have a helmet on today, at least. That, and she wasn’t going to be riding a horse.

The Vyaduka estate soon came into view. He pulled back on the reins and brought his horse to a halt. He did not feel ready for this. Changes were going to be happening in his life, and he felt vastly underprepared for them. He felt blind. This was not who he had thought he would one day become.

Here, standing at the precipice, his old views were resurrected. He should break off all contact with her. It was safer for both of them. He had been acting for the sake of momentary pleasure in her company, which was no reason to act at all.

He mulled over the thought. His stallion grew impatient and tossed his shook his head like there was no hope for his rider, which Azuel sullenly reflected was probably true. He urged the horse forward, but only bade him move slowly. Each click of hooves upon the stone raised his anxiety.

Perhaps... perhaps it wasn’t his choice to make alone. He owed her another moment together, at the very least. He refused to be the sort of scum that would vanish into thin air after sleeping with a lover. There wasn’t much he knew he wanted, but above all he did not want that. Even he had picked up on Mire’s devotion to him, and he couldn’t bear the thought of wounding her by leaving her life without warning a second time. She just had to understand that he wasn’t who she thought he was. She had to understand that by becoming ‘his secret’ she was putting herself beneath him. She had to understand that she had only known him for two days since their childhood, both of which had proven politically dangerous.

He drove his horse onwards to the family stable, where he was quickly bucket fed and shut away with Azuel’s sibling’s animals. He noted that his sister’s horse was here as well. Then she was home. He ground his teeth, frustrated by fate conspiring to make him choose rather than take the option from his grasp.

He left the stable and walked around to the front door. His groin still felt cold, and Azuel shifted uncomfortably while hoping it did not show in his walk. If there was anyone in the world who could surmise what he had done from so small a tell, it was his sister. Apprehension stifled further thoughts as he pushed through and entered. His face was a carefully controlled mask with a soft, easy smile upon it.

Nobody was there to greet him. He grumbled at his worries have come to naught. Why would anyone have been in the front hall anyways? Its glamour was for impressing the small-minded, not comfort. He really was not at his best.

He quietly swung the door closed, and the instant he did so the heavy frame silenced the breeze outside. Another shiver went through his body as he stalked off towards their rooms, deciding if nothing else he should enjoy the solitude and security of his own. With his hands pushed into his pockets for warmth, he made his way to the more modest sections upon the second floor, starting by heading to the stairway immediately upon his right.

Only at the top of the stairs did he appreciate how tired he had become. He was grateful he had been able to ride a horse the whole way back; had he not, he worried he might have collapsed on the way. He quickly navigated the labyrinthine rooms and made for the hall which would lead to the Vyaduka children’s rooms.

As he passed through a small study, he noted his brother Jafar and his wife, Erana Marquelis, curled together on a couch. They looked at Azuel expectantly as he entered, Jafar raising his head from her lap and smiling.

“Morning Azuel.” He said, his tone halfway between friendly and dismissive. “You look rough. Find those records?”

Azuel nodded in return. “Some.” He said simply. How bad was his appearance? Perhaps he should have taken up Mire’s offer of the bath. He managed to restrain his blush before the thought became overly prominent on his thoughts. “Where’s Latifa? Her room? I... need to talk with her.”

Jafar’s eyebrow raised. He pushed himself into a fully upright position. “What’d she do this time?”

Azuel said nothing. Jafar’s shoulders drooped. He was not as patient with her as was Azuel, and tended to brush her off. As a result, Azuel did not often discuss matters regarding her with him. Not helping matters was his tendency to bring up whatever embarrassment had occurred the next time his bullheadedness got the two of them into an argument. Latifa usually won, but Azuel had long ago stopped telling Jafar about events related to her.

“Right.” Jafar rolled his eyes, thinking he understood the situation. “I’d assume so. She was hung over when she stumbled back during your shift,” technically inaccurate, since Azuel had been staying late. Azuel found no reason to correct him and chose to let him continue, “so don’t expect much from her. Whatever it is can wait until later. You both could use the rest.”

Azuel rubbed his wrist at his forehead, wearied by it all. At least he had a valid excuse for delaying the conversation. He started walking off. He’d probably wake up in the eight or so hours it took Mire to complete her shift, especially since it was now daylight. “For vastly different reasons...” He muttered before hesitating, wondering if that alone was saying too much. But then, this was his brother. Jafar was about a subtle as a roaring volcano. As for Erana, if he was putting it bluntly Azuel didn’t think her all that bright. Besides, she didn’t know him nearly as well. “Thanks.” He added, looking back. “I’ll do that.”

Jafar was already snuggled up against Erana. Clearly, his little brother was the last thing on his mind. A pang of jealousy struck Azuel, knowing that he and Mire would probably never enjoy the same. Nevermind that both Mire and Erana were synevive; Erana was human and Mire was not.

He closed the door, easily overturning his own logic. There was more to it than that. His own incompetence had broadcasted his hatred of nonhumans far and wide. Mire did not have a large family to back her. Erana was politically agreeable, and her family line extended back to border on a descendant. All of Erana’s advantages were agreeable to their father, and Jafar had his father’s ear besides. Only the absolute fringes would object, and they’d be smart enough to keep it to themselves.

They were such small differences to change the course of a life. Azuel wondered if those differences might have mattered more to him, had Mire never entered his life. He kicked at the floor, frustrated and preferring not to think about it.

He saw to attaining a quick bath before heading to sleep.

Six Hours Later

No light had awoken Azuel. The sky was grey and overcast, promising rain. He rolled around for a bit before forcing himself awake, sitting up in bed and stretching his arms to the sides. Listening to the whistle of the wind outside his window was soothing.

It wasn’t enough to dull the realizations which suddenly hit him. His morning yawn abruptly halted and his whole body shuddered. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same anymore. Had he been less prone to panic, he might have noted the irony that it was only now that he was waking up like he would on any other day that the changes truly frightened him. He clutched his head in his hands and curled up, fervently creating plans with missing steps and ideal outcomes. He wondered what time it was. Why had he thought sleeping was a good idea? What if he had missed his meeting with Mire?

He threw his sheets from his bare legs and ran over to his window. Nature itself deigned to frustrate him when the clouds proved too thick to easily judge the location of the sun. He almost snarled at the sky, his lips making the motions without emitting the corresponding sound. There was a clock in the hall that he could use.

He hastily ran to his closet and acquired a fresh pair of pants, a simple if fine set of grey trousers nearly identical to the ones he had worn the night before. Shrugging them on, he stumbled out into the hall and glared down the length with blurry eyes.

He had two hours left. Arguably more, if he was willing to count on Mire taking an average amount of time to relieve herself of her gear and prepare. He breathed a little sigh of relief. Even though he had never been one to rely on chance, that would be enough. Enough to...

It struck him then that he still had failed to arrive at a concrete plan of action. He cursed under his breath and slammed the door shut. Turning around and leaning his back against the door, he tried to recall what he had managed to come up with yesterday.

Latifa. He chuckled, but it was a despondent, frightened chuckle. Was that really the best he had been able to do? He sighed and took fumbling steps forwards, only to be halted by a knock on his door.

“Azuel?” A feminine voice called from the other side. It had a rolling, musical quality, a unique tone which Azuel had always found musical and reassuring. She kept that voice even at her worst; it was apparent she was tired now. “Are you up? Jafar told me you wanted to talk to me?”

Azuel’s eye twitched, his mind wondering how that conversation had gone. If Jafar had realized his assumption about Latifa being the one to have created this most recent catastrophe was incorrect, who knew what sort of questions he’d end up being asked. He couldn’t prepare for that. Jafar alone he might have been able to deal with, but when Jafar learned something his father had the funniest habit of picking up the same information. Azuel was not prepared to face Maalik about the matter, regardless of how little his father knew.

All these thoughts occurred to Azuel in a single moment. “Just a moment!” He shouted back, retreating back to his closet. One of his more gaudy shirts found its way into his hands, though that wasn’t saying much for it. He tossed it on and made his way back to the door, opening it gracelessly.

Latifa walked inside with a curt nod. Her green eyes were the mirror image of his own but for the heavy bags beneath them. She wore her hair in a long, black matt which descended all the way to her waist. A bit under half of her head was combed; Azuel took this to mean she had been caring for it when she had heard him slamming the door and come to investigate. Her attire was a simple white dress that might have been mistaken for a humble clerical robe, the sort that she often wore when she didn’t have any particular plans for the day.

“Can I...” He started, before deciding he needed to start over “I need help, Latifa. I don’t know who else to talk to.” He looked to the side and started blushing when her eyebrow rose like she already knew where this was going.

“Oh? Not often I see you willing to ask.” She gave him a gentle tap on the shoulder and pointed to the table in his room. It only had one seat, but Azuel figured she knew what she was doing. Truth be told, he was fairly convinced that this was the best time he could have found her. Interrupting her at the height of her hang over there were obvious problems with discussion, but when it was wearing off she would at least take some of the things he said seriously.

She spun the chair around for him to sit in before leaning against the table herself. So, he was to be the one sitting for the interrogation. He grumbled. Her lips made the motion of smiling, but her eyes did not. He was a little surprised. Something must be bothering her as well.

“What do you need?” She said as she casually brushed her fingers through her hair, straightening out the unruly side to a modest degree. Her fingers got stuck in a knotted mass and she started trying to pull through it, wincing until she gave up and devoted her attention to Azuel’s stuttering.

“I uh...” He started forwards across the table with his arms folded over each other in front of him. He was certain his face was red. Her eyes narrowed impatiently. “I need advice,” he admitted.

“About a girl?” She shook her head teasingly back and forth, not revealing anything about how she knew that. She watched Azuel sink into the table with obvious glee, “And you came to your sister. Tsk. You must be desperate. Let me guess...”

Though his face was buried in his hands, he could feel her intense gaze. Soon he also felt her feet softly kick him in the ribs twice. It becoming apparent he wasn’t about to say anything more, she continued to combine gloating and psychoanalysis, “An elf, and she got you to do something naughty.”

“Damn it, damn it, damn it.” Azuel muttered, finally unable to deny that part of himself. He wondered how long she’d known. The Restoration Gala was his first hunch. His reaction to Lady Sehkhara had been wholly inappropriate. Without raising his head from under his hands, he loudly asked her, “How?”

“You’d come to me for advice about either politics or sex, and Azuel, you’ve been beet red since I stepped in here.” She patted him on the top of his head, prompting him to raise it if only to get her to stop. “It’s not like you to stay very late at the headquarters anyways, even with reason. I knew something was up the moment I heard from Jafar.”

“And the... elf part?”

“The Gala,” So, he’d been right. “And to be honest, I wasn’t certain why else you’d be so... not okay with them even before that.” She leaned in, eager for details, “So, is she cute?”

“I’m being serious!” he said indignantly, though he was secretly relieved she could read him so easily as to render it unnecessary for him to need to explain the details of the situation.

She snorted and slid of the table. “You’re always serious, little brother. I happen to think this will be good for you. Assuming you didn’t freak out and ruin it for yourself already.”

“Nearly,” He muttered, “And I’m not really, I mean I’m not...” He wasn’t about to drop his resistance to Elemire on Latifa’s insistence. Teodinus knew he didn’t want to end up like her. He would never be able to handle the shame, the revulsion in the eyes of everyone he respected.

“Oh, and you’ll have to keep it from father. And she had better be nice! What’s her name, by the way?”

He paused indecisively, wondering if he should lie. Chances were she would tease him about Mire. The chances were better that she’d be able to tell if he lied. “Elemire Oranrae.”

“Pretty name.” His sister commented, plainly attaching no greater significance to it. At his surprised expression, she adopted her inquisitive one.

Azuel bit his lip. He lied, even though he knew she’d be able to tell. “It’s not important, really.”

“Azuel, you know I’ll figure it out myself if I have to.”

“Fine!” He said, frustrated. There was nothing he could do to stop her, so if he didn’t tell her she’d start asking around. “I went to school with her. I helped her learn how to read.”

She was quiet. Azuel blinked, having been staring at the wall across the desk this whole time. Slowly, he turned to face her. Her mouth was hanging open. His face contorted with confusion.

Her mouth clamped together with a catlike smile. Her hands clasped together in front of her. “That’s the most adorable and weird thing ever. You realize that, right? I have got to meet her.”

“You have to keep this all a secret!” He butted in abruptly, eager to discontinue that line of thinking. “From everybody! If you tell even one person, I swear I’ll... I’ll...”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” She made an irreverent, dismissive motion that did little to reassure him. “I won’t tell a soul. ‘Cept maybe her. I gotta make sure she’s right for you.”

Azuel flinched, ducking as if the thought of Latifa approaching and talking with Elemire was an arrow he needed to avoid. “You are the most horribly intrusive sister ever.” He complained, groaning. It wasn’t long before he was crumpled on his desk again. She wasn’t taking this seriously, though that was to be expected. His accusation seemed to have bought him some time, so maybe he could get to his problem before she started making fun of him again, “There’s just so many problems, Latifa! She won’t age, all these politics, just, just basic decency even. I can’t do this to her, and I can’t, I don’t know, I can’t lead your kind of life!”

He took a deep breath in, making an effort to calm down. The house was large and the walls were thick, but he didn’t need to take chances. “Please. Treat this seriously. I’m not you.”

She frowned, her expression occupying a curious halfway point between pouting and thoughtfulness. He winced. He didn’t like calling her out on her behavior for a great many reasons, and this came dangerously close to doing just that. He scratched nervously at his leg under the table.

“Fine. I’ll help with whatever.” She declared, her voice almost somber. “Look, you tend to get overwhelmed and freak out, so what’s your immediate problem?”

Azuel thought about it. “I... I told her I’d meet up with her again. After her shift. She’s in the guard too; she’s the one who was there when I had my... episode two years ago.”

“The one who punched you?” Latifa’s mouth was open again and her voice had risen in pitch, suddenly remembering Elemire’s name. She was obviously struggling not to laugh, “Now I get why you wanted to cover up for her! Love at first punch!”

“Serious!” He reminded her, aggressively turning her way and pointing. Her face immediately lost all emotion and she ceased laughing. Azuel blinked in shock, withdrawing his hand slightly.

“Azuel,” She said, her voice completely monotone. Azuel abruptly realized he was in for more mocking, and rolled his eyes while he stared back at his favorite view: the wall. Latifa continued, “You are incredibly weird. Your relationship is incredibly weird. You have weird issues.”

“I give up.” He responded. “I’ll sort this out on my own. Just, please don’t tell anyone.”

“Alright, alright.” She responded, walking back up to him. “I’ll be boring and stick with it this time. Look, I can tell you’re going to go and meet up with her again because you’re kind of a sucker like that. So, in the interests of getting this somewhere we’ll go step by step. What do you think will happen when you get there?”

“I, uh...” Azuel stammered. He put his hand to his forehead and rested his elbow at the table. He wanted to say he’d talk to her about the situation. Realistically, he expected the outcome would be... different. He knew he didn’t have the best self-control around her. He looked up at her meekly, hating the fact that he was asking this at all. “Do you know where I could get protection?”

Latifa smiled wickedly. “Just follow me.” She said, abruptly turning to leave the room. Azuel’s brow rose with surprise. He pushed his chair backwards as he got up to follow her.

Azuel lowered his voice and leaned over to whisper, “Erm, why would you have male...”

She raised an eyebrow and shut him up by walking right past her room. She stopped outside Jafar’s. Azuel stood there, blinking. Weren’t Jafar and Erana trying to have a child. Latifa held a finger over her lips in a motion for silence. She then strode confidently in front of Jafar’s door, opened it wide, and walked right in. “Hello Jafar!” She cried triumphantly.

“Latifa?! What are you- hey! Stay out of that!”

Azuel heard a drawer opening, followed by Latifa’s voice. “Oh. Oh wow, she lets you use that on her?”

“S-shut up! Shut up! What are you doing?”

Azuel heard more drawers being ransacked as Latifa continued to search. “Oh, here we are. Nothing much. I’m just going to need this for later tonight. Nice stockpile, by the way.”

“I do not want to know!” Jafar yelled, clearly angry. “Get out!”

“Fine, if you insist.” Latifa walked back out of the room and closed the door behind him. She then pushed a condom into Azuel’s palm, a merry grin on her face. She walked a short distance down the hall, Azuel trailing behind with a dumbfounded look on his face.

Latifa looked back when they got to the door of her room. “They decided to go under father’s nose and not have a kid.” She shrugged, “Anyways, have fun!” She tossed open the door to her room and entered, leaving him sitting there in the hall, utterly confused as to whether or not she had helped at all.

Two Hours Later

Azuel climbed the steps again. The condom seemed heavy in his pocket. He had walked all the way here, having assumed his horse would make it far too obvious Mire had upper class company.

He was afraid. There was too much uncertainty in the situation for him to feel comfortable. He wanted to just talk with her, before anything else happened, but he didn’t know if she would let him get the chance.

He stood outside her door. It loomed over him. He remembered leaving through this door in the morning, he remembered the feeling of relief that had washed over him. And now here he was, ready to enter and do it all again.

His fingers rose to the door and he knocked. Nobody answered.

The third dart landed on 15. Mire frowned. She'd barely finished a pint and her aim was horrible. Hulben was attractive, very attractive as far as elves go, but he wasn't... hairy or clumsy. His teeth were too straight, his hair too blonde, his ears too... pointed, the looks he gave a little too voracious. Nope. She didn't like him. Not one bit. And, if he put his hand on her thigh or buttocks one more time, she was going to break it.

"You know what? I just don't have this in me tonight. I'm going to head home." Mire drained her pint and placed the glass back on the bar. Hulben leaned over and whispered in her ear. His hand landed on her lower back and started to slowly slide down. Some good guy he was. A good man kept his hands to himself unless the lady said it was ok. Mire's mouth twisted ruefully, or if the lady forcibly seduced him...

"You could have something in you tonight. Want to go to my place?"

Mire grabbed Hulben's hand. "If you want to keep the use of your hand, don't touch me anymore. Got it?" Mire twisted his hand a little to make sure he understood. The elf male made a face and shook out his hand. He smiled, but the look in his eye had changed.

"That's the problem with women in the guard. They become too manly."

A mulish look contorted Mire's face and Veridian stepped in between the pair.

"See you on shift tomorrow, right?" Mire glared at Hulben once more before nodding to Veridian.

"Yeah. Keep that guy here. I don't want him following me home."

The bartender put a few bottles on the bar and bag for her. "Here ya go. Keep warm. That storm's getting pretty rough."

Mire nodded and laid down a few bishani.

"Thanks." With that, she slipped on her coat, grabbed her food and drink and walked home.

The rain fell and Mire tucked her chin in, to keep the rain out of her eyes. Times like this, she wished she could afford a place with stairs on the inside instead of the outside. Balancing the bag and the bottles against her chest, Mire dug into the pocket of her coat and pulled out her key.

Looking up, she paused a few steps from her stoop. Azuel was at her door.

She blinked. Her mouth dropped open. She blinked more.

"Azu?" Mire was surprised and shocked. She really hadn't believed he would come back today.

"You... you came?" An incredulous and happy smile lit up her face. Mire took the last few steps to her door and unlocked it.

"Please... come in."

She slipped off her shoes and slid them to sit by the door. The key was hung on its hook. She shrugged out of her coat, without dropping her dinner. The coat was hung on a peg by the door.

"Don't forget to take off your shoes."

When she looked around the room, she realized she hadn't bothered to make the bed in her emotional funk. Mire panicked. Moving quickly she put the bag and bottles on the table and quickly began tidying the bedding. The scent of their prior actions filled her awareness and she shook her head to free her senses.

Grabbing her only other towel, Mire moved back to Azuel.

"Looks like you got a little wet. Here." She smiled at him and gestured to the table. "Care to join me?"

The profound picture of misery, Azuel waited outside as it started to rain. He had a suspicion where she might be, but he didn’t dare approach the bar. It’d have too many people in it, and he wasn’t about to endure that sort of exposure without a plan. And, if he was being perfectly honest, he was a little scared to learn what Mire might be like drunk. So he waited, wondering if his endeavor was a lost cause.

The rain had started seeping through his cloth coat long ago, leaving him wet to the bone. He had eventually found it more comfortable to simply flip his hood down and let the rain wash over him. His green eyes stared at the sky with hostility before looking down at the floor to make sure nature didn’t send a drop into his eyes.

His head perked up. He thought he had just heard somebody say his name, He peered down the three or so flights of stairs until his mouth fell open happily. He waved. When she was out of sight, approaching through the stairs beneath him, his smile turned into a frown. His reaction to seeing her was so... happy, for what had been a single act of intercourse.

"You... you came?"

She sounded surprised, which caused Azuel to mirror the emotion. There had never been any doubt of his return in his mind, only of what he would say or do once he got there. “Of course. I said we needed to talk, didn’t I?”

It was a legitimate question, as everything from last night had mixed together in a sort of blur. Damned if he was about to remember something as specific as his own words. He followed her through the door and shut the door for her.

When he turned to look back at her, he was alarmed to see that she was going right for the bed. He relaxed a bit when he realized that she was just tidying it up, and dispelled his anxiety entirely when she ceased fussing with the sheets. He was about to reassure her that she didn’t need to worry about such things when she came around the corner with a towel, which he readily accepted.

“Thanks.” He started brushing it through his hair, freeing it from the weight of the raindrops that had accumulated upon the obsidian strands. His cheeks were colored a bit just from her nearness.

Azuel wasted little time in taking a seat when she offered it. He wore a soft and small smile, but his eyes betrayed his troubled feelings. He didn’t know how to start talking about this sort of thing. He chuckled a bit. Maybe he could just admit that.

His troubled smile broke into an embarrassed grin. He couldn’t bring himself to say that. Instead, he chose to stall a bit, hoping he could get her to bring some of this up. Maybe it would be for the best if he made her really think about this anyways. He pushed his towel from his head and placed it on the table before reaching hesitantly across the grab her hand. He lifted it between them and wrapped his other hand around it as well, commanding her attention. “We really do need to... think. About us. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of going forwards.”

“Of course. I said we needed to talk, didn’t I?” Internally, Mire cringed. She knew what he was going to say. It was a mistake. You seduced me. A million accusations and dismissals ran through her mind. She didn't want to hear them.

"You did." She forced a smile and continued on with what she was doing.

“Thanks.”

"Of course," Mire smiled at him. "Let's hang up your coat, too. Give it a chance to dry a little." Mire noticed the smile he wore and the frown around his eyes. He chuckled to himself. She wasn't sure what was funny, but if he was even somewhat amused then it couldn't be all bad could it? But, then, the expression on his face wasn't one of joy. The recriminations started in her head again.

Mire turned on her heel abruptly and moved into the kitchen. She pulled out her two plates, two cups, and utensils. Taking them to the table, she smiled at Azuel as she set the table. Azuel dropped the towel over his plate and reached for her right hand. Mire froze.

No, no, no! I'm not ready for this yet. We just started! Her hand trembled in his grasp, even though she tried not to show any thing.

Mire inhaled a breath and waited for him to drop the rock on her head, looking anywhere but at him. He tugged on her hand and covered it with his other, drawing her gaze to their hands.

“We really do need to... think. About us. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t terrified of going forwards.”

Mire stilled and lifted her gaze to stare at Azuel. That statement sounded almost, almost positive. Her mouth opened, as if she intended to speak, but nothing came out. Suddenly, she dropped down into a squat, which slowly sank into a kneel. WIth her one hand still between his, and held awkwardly up in the air, Mire's other hand covered her mouth. She looked away from Azuel and spoke through her hand.

"I thought you were going to say you weren't going to see me anymore." Leaning forward she rested her head against his knee. Her left hand rested on his thigh, near to her face. She sighed.

"I ... I know that you can't really be with someone like me. You'll be expected to marry some human Descendant or Synevive daughter and have children to continue the family line. Plus, you have an image to uphold. So, you probably shouldn't be seen going around with someone like me either." That awful, cold feeling had started to creep into her gut again. She was making arguments for the wrong side! Her hand made a fist in the fabric of his pants at his thigh. Her words said she would let him go, but her actions said she didn't want to.

"That's why I said I would be your secret. Then, you can spend time with me and do what you need to do for your family. See? I can be a little politic... I'm not completely clueless."

Azuel felt incredibly awkward with her kneeling in front of him like he was some sort of feudal lord. He tugged at her hand to try to get her to rise, but she was too distracted to notice. He frowned uncomfortably, and his features only increased their decent when she admitted she was worried he would leave her. Her apparent devotion to him was growing increasingly unsettling.

"I thought you were going to say you weren't going to see me anymore."

At her admission, Azuel cringed, though with her head down she couldn’t have seen it. He’d be lying if the thought hadn’t been heavy on his mind at various points. He wondered when and where, exactly, it had stopped, but his ruminations were quickly dismissed as Mire continued to speak. He finally found the opening he needed. He wouldn’t allow her to do this to herself.

“Mire, stop. Please just... stop. I don’t want you to be my secret. That would be just...” He struggled to find the word he wanted, but eventually settled on “That would be... do you realize what you’re asking of me by saying that? You’d be throwing away your life for me, Mire, valuing yourself beneath me.”

Azuel shook his head and released one of his hands from around hers. He brushed it over his lips before his fingers came to rest on his forehead. He looked to the side, not willing to face her when she was very literally putting herself beneath him. She didn’t seem about to stand, so Azuel did the only thing he could think to do: he pushed his chair backwards, careful not to unduly jostle her head and hand which still rested on his leg, and kneeled right in front of her. Now he could look her in the eye and feel fair in doing so.

“I can’t be the sort of person who would do that to someone. That path would only take us both to misery, in the end. If I did find a human lover, how would you deal with it?” The question was rhetorical, as he suspected the answer would be poorly. It would hurt her; how could it not? He leaned forwards, bumping their foreheads together in an affectionate gesture. “I don’t think anyone would object to us being friends, at least for now. And I’d have to grumble about you being the exception about elves for a bit, if only around my father.”

“I-” he sighed and withdrew his head a bit, returning literal and metaphorical distance between them. Now it was time for the bad news. However, he still couldn’t bring himself to let go of her hand. “And I... I think it’s for the best if we really are just friends for a while. I think you’ve built up a fantasy around me, Mire. Why else would you be willing to do all this for me? I’m not the child you used to know. You knew Azu for years, but you’ve known Azuel for two days.”

Azuel’s face only slightly betrayed his nervousness. Was he being too harsh? Was this even the proper thing to do? He hadn’t the faintest idea, and that uncertainty frightened him all the way down to his bones.