Chapter Text
“Hero.”
A quiet whisper pulled Meriel from the deepest sleep she had enjoyed in many moons.
“Hero.”
She nestled more into her pillow. Perhaps, whoever was calling for her with that familiar sardonic voice, they could deign to use her proper name for once. Then, perhaps, they would get a more immediate response.
She felt the gentlest of shakes at her shoulder, melting her brief flash of bitterness. That one like him could be so tendered—a second surprise she had learned about the Ascian, the first being how he clung to her after their coupling last night.
“What time is it?” Bleary eyes blinked open to a dim room. She could just make out the form next to her. Propped up on an elbow, the blankets had shifted down tantalizingly low, presenting all the lean muscles of his torso on display.
“’Tis morning, my dear,” Emet-Selch whispered. “The sun will rise before long, and your companions will surely be lost without their champion.”
She hummed in idle agreement, trying to find the mental fortitude to get out of the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in. Her brief dip into fantasy was over, and the arduous tasks of saving the world returned.
Rolling over to her back and laying her arm across her face, a question floated up in her mind. One she dreaded to ask, but the haze of sleep let slip.
“Will you tell them of this? Of us?”
She heard him scoff.
“I am not so crude. And, I am enjoying myself. I assume telling them of our liaisons would put a quick end to our meetings?”
“It would.”
Though, if it got to that point, the damage would already be done, and with little she could do to fix it. An uncomfortable thought, one she’d rather not dwell—
“So readily you admit to wanting future trysts with me.”
His voice dripped with smug satisfaction at having caught her accidental confession. She lowered her arm and peered over at him through the dark, the glare she managed weakened by her morning lethargy. His lips turned up in a smirk.
“I am not opposed, mind,” he continued. “I’ve not had this much fun with a mortal in centuries, and I suspect from your previous eagerness that your bed has been empty for far longer than your liking.”
In the room’s quiet, all she could muster was a self-deprecating laugh. There was no denying it. She did so delight in the occasional one-night stands, and it had been so long since she last had someone that she could call upon without strings attached. Finding bedmates that didn’t put her on some pedestal, hailing her as a noble hero, was becoming harder and harder. She never wanted to sleep with anyone who burned with feelings she could not return.
Luckily, that problem did not lie with old Garlean emperors.
“We’ll keep this to just the physical,” he crooned, his hand sliding across her stomach as he moved closer to her on the bed. “Mutually beneficial relief. I’ll even continue to don the regalia when you desire it.” Stiffened, his arousal rubbed against her thigh. He mouthed along her bare shoulder, leaving wet, fiery kisses on her skin.
A moan escaped her as his hand cupped her breast. She silently cursed herself by how easily she could get worked up, but she had missed waking up in bed with another. One final romp before they went their separate ways, the perfect beginning to any day as far as she was concerned.
She spread her legs and urged him to get between, ignoring his breathless laugh, no doubt at her expense.
“My sweetest hero,” he purred into the crook of her neck as he lined himself up, pushing in with the same sluggishness that drove her mad last time. Dull pain throbbed as the mid swell of his length stretched her, her fingers digging into his back as she tensed. He stilled.
“Are you alright?” His hot breath ghosted over her shoulder.
“Yeah, s’fine. Keep going.”
Gods. He was one of the biggest men she had taken, filling her so fully. No wonder she was sore from last night, exactly as she hoped she would be.
Peppering kisses along her neck, he rolled his hips, sinking himself down to his base. With easy motions, he moved against her, their coupling hidden under thick, shuffling blankets. Now, with her lingering tiredness and not being worked up into a frenzy, she reveled in his unrushed pace. She savored his every ilm on his long draws out, the way his swollen tip pushed into her silken warmth on the return.
“What shall I call you,” she sighed, “when we’re in bed without pretense? Emet-Selch or Solus?”
He groaned into her shoulder.
“You can call me whatever you please”—he snapped his hips into her, eliciting from her a delighted yelp—”as long as you’re under me.”
Leaning back, his hands tenderly pushed her thighs further apart, spreading her for his view. Even in the dark, she saw the gold of his irises glitter, roaming over her exposed form with a hungry glint.
“Touch yourself,” he whispered, his voice low, commanding. “I want to watch you find completion while spread around me.”
A hot flush burned her cheeks—she treasured when a partner delighted in the depraved as much as her. Her fingers slid between her legs, briefly dipping down to feel their slicked joining before moving up and swirling around her swollen clit. Aurum eyes followed her every movement.
“Good, good,” he licked his lips. “You like coming on an Ascian’s cock, Warrior of Light?”
Turing into her pillow to smother a moan, she nodded. Shame, delight, both mixed together to fuel the heat simmering low in her stomach.
“Say it.” His pace grew fervent, riding her harder into the mattress. “Say you want to be undone by me.”
She swallowed hard, trying to find her tongue despite the rising tide at her core.
“I want you—” With a sudden sharp thrust from him, her own cry cut herself off. Driven by newfound vigor, he pounded into her, the stretch at her entrance aching at his relentless beat. Electricity and fire lit her every nerve, her body rocking under him, lost to his mercy. His thumb pressed her eager fingers harder to her clit, and she saw stars, ecstasy flooding through her.
Leaning forward to wrap his arms under and around her shoulders, he held her to his chest, his movements becoming erratic as she teetered on the brink of being overwhelmed under him. As his member buried deep, throbbing and pulsing, she felt his essence drip out at her entrance.
The heady scent of sex saturated the muggy room. While the fog of pleasure slowly cleared from her mind, he pressed soft kisses along her brow.
“This may not be the most opportune time,” he started, an odd hesitation coloring his tone, “but I should ask if you have, ah, preventative measures?”
She blinked, taking a moment to come down from her high to catch his meaning.
“You needn’t worry about that,” she huffed, almost offended he would think her so careless. “I have ever been hopeful my luck with finding partners would change.”
He kissed her cheek and pulled away, sweat-slicked hair falling forward as he looked down at her.
“I really should be getting you back,” he mumbled. “Would you like to bathe here, first? I can have it ready in seconds.”
Her brows furrowed.
“There is a bath here?”
He snapped his fingers, setting a fire burning in the hearth and enveloping the room in a warm, flickering glow. Following his lazy hand wave in the new light, she saw an ornate wooden partition set in a corner with a clawfoot tub behind it.
“Would have been quite unfitting for an emperor to not have a personal bath,” he explained.
Even though the reasonable part of her mind told her she needed to get back, a quick wash sounded fantastic. And his tub looked much bigger and nicer, with its pristine white basin and golden accents, than hers at the inn. She heard another snap and in a gust of aether the tub filled with steaming water, scents of flowery perfumes and fragrant soaps floating through the air.
“Big enough for both of us,” he offered, “unless you rather bathe alone. Matters not to me.”
He didn’t meet her gaze as he removed himself from her and got off the bed, feigning indifference to her decision. But she knew the hopeful upturn she heard in his tone was intentional. She had had partners like this before, clingy and wanting to attend to her needs afterwards.
Normally, and especially if time was pressing, she did not indulge in such pampering, but long nights spent alone had worked their wear on her guards.
“I will take you up on that offer, Emet-Selch.” Sliding off the bed, she got to her feet. “And you may join me.”
The Ascian led her to the tub. Getting in first, he held out a hand to help her over the rim and into the waiting warm water. When she made to sit on the other end, he instead guided her to the spot in front of him, his long legs framing her on either side.
“So tense, even after all that,” he admonished, pressing his thumbs in circles along her spine and shoulders, working away the knots saving realms had put there.
Determined to not melt under his kneading fingertips, she set about washing herself. Even as she moved about, his hands stayed on her, rubbing and bathing and massaging whatever of her was in reach. When she leaned back to rinse her hair, his fingers found their way gliding through her floating locks, scratching at her scalp under the water.
“You are a more attentive bedmate than I first believed,” she confessed, looking up at him and enjoying the attention despite herself. “Not something I assumed from an Ascian.”
“Before, you were quick to leave,” Emet-Selch noted, watching her with tired eyes, “denying me the chance to show otherwise.”
She held her silence at that, adverting her gaze. Perhaps she had been too brusque with him, a failing of hers that previous bedmates had complained about.
When she was satisfied that she would spend the day smelling of a luxurious bath and not of sex and Ascian, she laid back against him.
“Where are we?” she asked, letting her head rest against his chest, soaking in the fragrant water. “I gather by our hence undisturbed time here, we aren’t in the Garlemald palace.”
“Clever hero,” he hummed, rubbing his hands down her arms. “But you are correct. It is beyond my abilities to transfer you, body and soul, across the rift. So instead, I have taken you to a space in the inbetween that I have magicked into looking like the old bedchamber.”
Through his level tone, she heard the faintest hint of a boast.
“Same with the throne room, I imagine?”
“Mhm.”
“Quite the convincing illusion,” she said as she sank to her chin in the water, feeling the comforting warmth embrace her whole body. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so at ease.
“Thank you,” he chirped. “I’m rather proud of it. It’s enough for our purposes, at least.”
In that moment, Meriel felt a pang of guilt. The Ascian had done so much for her, indulged her so fully, far beyond what any partners had given before. Far beyond what she ever would expect from a bedmate. To repay him, if only an ilm, seemed fair.
Carefully, so as to not spill any water over the side, she moved to the other end of the tub and faced him.
“Would you want me to bathe you, as well?"
The words felt strange in her mouth. Such an intimate offer was not in her nature, and her stomach tightened at the worry that she looked a fool.
He blinked at her like a lost owl. Evidently, he had also not expected this.
As if afraid his clever tongue might let slip something that would change her mind, he silently moved over to sit with his back to her lap. Her clumsy fingers struggled to imitate the massage he had given her, but she felt woefully ineffective as they rubbed across his muscular back. While he set to washing, she tried to help as best she could with her unpracticed hands.
He leaned back to rinse his hair as she had, face haloed by the small bubbles on the water’s surface. Her fingers scratched at his scalp in the soothing way he had done for her and this, at least, she was better at. With his eyes closed, the smallest of smiles upturned the corner of his mouth.
“You usually aren’t one for such comforts, are you, hero?”
Her brows furrowed.
“Rarely do I have the time for such matters. Or the energy.”
“I think it would do you well to indulge more in things like this.”
She only hummed idly at that. Emet-Selch looked so serene under her as she ran her fingers through his floating auburn locks. That he was the same conquering emperor she had seen in history books beggared belief.
“Would you like me to return you now?” he asked after her silence lapsed for too long, golden eyes peering up at her.
She worried her lip between her teeth and nodded.
⸻
After a quick dry off with over-fluffed towels, they dressed. Then, with her snug to his side, a cold trip through the portal found them in her dim room. A clear sky greeted her through the window, the rising morning sun casting long, golden rays across the wooden floor. That the world still seemed calm despite her absence relieved a slight weight from her shoulders.
“Well, hero,” Emet-Selch cleared his throat, “the next time you wish for my company, you need only whistle. Though, I suspect we will see each other well before then.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Until then, Ascian.”
She turned away to gather her things plopped by the door yesterday, hoping he would get the hint to leave her be now. After a moment, she heard a portal open and close behind her.
Setting her bag atop her bed, she changed out of yesterday’s clothes. Stepping into a clean skirt, she frowned. His armor from last night had left more than just fantastic fingerprint bruises—small, thin cuts laid haphazardly along her pale inner thighs, no doubt from the metal tassets digging into her. Stockings for today, then.
As she stood fully dressed before her mirror, examining herself for any other wayward markings, the reality of all she had done settled on her. A blush threatened to color her cheeks. Rarely had she had a bedmate satisfy her so thoroughly, but, she supposed, that was an unfair comparison. None before had been actual royalty to scratch that itch.
“Strange bedfellows you take.”
The ghostly shade of Ardbert stepped into her peripheral vision, his voice sounding neither condemning nor condoning. Meriel froze, holding down the immense knot forming in her stomach. That someone already knew of this—she shook her head to clear that train of thought away. Steeling herself, she hoped a short, clipped explanation would leave no room for doubt.
“I’ve strange tastes. He happens to satisfy them. Nothing more.”
“A lot of trust you put into that Ascian to bring you back.” Now sounding more cross, Ardbert strode in front of her when she refused to face him. “What if he had decided to just keep you wherever you two were?”
“I appreciate your concern, truly, but I am more than capable of taking care of myself.” A heated indignation simmered behind her measured words.
“I bloody well know that, but he is an Ascian and there would be none that could help if you—if he had not been so charitable.”
Her mind raced on how to argue this. She understood his apprehension, better than most would. Both of them had their misfortunes with Ascians and, hells, Ardbert wasn’t even aware of Emet-Selch’s expansive role on the Source. But his was a forbidden delight she was keen to taste again, be damned whatever the reasonable part of her contended.
“I would beg of you, then, to trust me,” she started slowly, her stare holding his, “since I know you cannot trust him. We have an understanding, Emet-Selch and I.”
“You truly believe him?” The genuine worry in his tone chipped at her anger. “That this is not some scheme he has set against you?”
“You can rest assured that I am ever on the lookout for such treachery. Just please,” she faltered, voice falling to a strained whisper, “allow me this comfort.”
Unable to hold his gaze, Meriel looked away, choosing instead to study the grain of the wood in the floorboards. Moments passed in heavy silence.
Finally, crossing his arms, Ardbert relented.
“Well, what’s done is done. Not much I can do to stop you, anyroad.” When she peered up, his blue eyes softened, but the worry still weighed heavily on his brow. “Just be careful, yeah?”
She gave a curt nod.
“I always am.”
A sharp knock drew both their attention.
“Meriel?” Alisaie’s impatient voice came from behind the door. “Are you awake yet?”
The Scholar glanced at Ardbert, who shrugged.
“This is the second time they’ve come around. They’ve just assumed you’ve been asleep.”
Another round of knocks at the door, calling for her. With a deep breath in, she pushed away all her lingering thoughts of the Ascian, of all her worries and fears and whatever damnable feelings Ardbert had just conjured up.
With a long breath out, she started towards the door, ready to once again become the Warrior of Light.