Work Text:
Nivani couldn't quite get her thoughts to focus on tending to the Cryptic Forge's customers that day. Her mind kept wandering back to memories of her coworker, Zumarud. Each of the djinn's four well-toned arms weaving together while sorting through the inventory of valuable trinkets. She could only imagine how deftly those four hands of his could travel every contour of her body.
Was risking a workplace affair worth it though, in this economy? This job gave her everything she needed, yet still she craved the one thing money couldn't buy. May the gods grant her luck though, because it looks like it's time to gamble with her job on the line-
I had to stop and put down Passionate Gambit. It was actually causing me pain, like seriously, Zommoros isn't even in charge of inventory! And don't people know that the lower pair of djinn arms aren't dexterous enough for tasks like that?! It can result in them injuring themselves if they aren't careful.
I sighed wearily. Suddenly I understood exactly why Snargle wanted a tour of the Forge a few months back.
If it's this bad throughout, this might be the first time I won't be able to bring myself to finish a Goldclaw novel, which would be a shame after reading all the others.
…Curse Kippo and Monroe for their lack of a return policy.
In the haze of processing transactions the next morning, my mind failed to recognize a certain charr approaching the Forge.
Though I should have expected this in all honesty.
The lavender-suited figure gave a friendly wave, "Greetings Miyani, my apologies if this is a poor time,"
"Oh! Hello again, Snargle. Were you in need of something?"
He shook his snout dismissively, "Fear not, it's nothing too grand, I simply wanted to pass along my thanks for the tour; it was positively invaluable for my research when writing Passionate Gambit."
I forced a smile at that, "Well you're in luck that Zommoros was willing to make an exception. Though for a former Lionguard lieutenant, the pleasure was ours. I'll be sure to pass along the message."
His lips curled up in response, "By the way, Miyani, how have you been enjoying the new book?"
The gods themselves would be impressed at the amount of control exerted on my facial muscles at the moment.
"Mind you I'm not one to keep track of all my fans, but occasionally Kippo does need an extra paw in the shipping department when we get new releases, which has led to learning some of my more devoted fans," he remarked with a warm chuckle. "It's hard to forget an address such as "Mystic Forge Fountain - Trader's Forum.""
Oh Balthazar's burning beard. "I, well, couldn't bring myself to finish it."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"While reading it I uh… I kept getting ideas on how some events would actually play out." There were a lot of inaccuracies, really.
Snargle looked at me sympathetically, "I know it's not my place to meddle in anyone's affairs, but the muse for my writing is none other than the pure desire to inspire a blossoming passion in others with each carefully crafted page that's put to print."
He… does know what I'm talking about, right? "It's certainly reflected in your writing. But I wasn't sure if you'd be against-"
Snargle held up a paw, "Do not fear what may lie inside your heart, Miyani."
Uhm…
He continued, "If my work inspires you to new heights, then it'd be sinful of me to hold you back- Oh!" His passionate speech was cut short to pull out a pocket watch, leading to a regretful sigh, "Burn me, I've stayed too long. Regrettably, I must get going if I'm to catch my ride to the north."
The passage of time my saviour, I guess?
"Best of luck with work, Miyani!"
"Ah, you as well, Snargle."
And with that, he hurried off.
My knuckles leaned against my hip. Just… what exactly did Snargle give me his blessing for?
I glanced up at the sun still fresh in the morning sky, sighing.
It's going to be a long day.
Settling down during my break on a nearby ledge, Passionate Gambit in one hand and an ink pen in the other, I decided to take Snargle's blessing as a fellow writer and run with it. And seriously not ponder whatever else he gave me his blessing for.
After all, what harm is there if I'm simply editing my personal copy?
"I've had enough, I feel like I'm drowning around you, Zumarud."
"Then speak to me, Nivani. Are the hours too long? Do you want to be paid more
Mystic Coins[gold] for your work?""No, no.
None of that![Though I've been meaning to talk with you later about increasing employee wages.] My heart is positively flooded to the point of bursting!"Worry flashed over the djinn's eyes, "Is it possible for my magic to heal this affliction?"
"Not your magic, life is never that simple, but if you're willing…" Nivani's fingers traced a delicate series of lines over the djinn's many abs, "...then perhaps more of yourself? You already share your ideas, your magic, but if I… wished to share in your body?"
A thousand years of longing washed over the djinn's veiled features, before nodding promptly, "Then we must forge our way to the bedchambers at once!"
I looked up from the pages, eyebrows scrunched. Wait, how many abs does Zommoros have?
In hindsight there've been a number of bizarre things I've had to research for my writing hobbies, this is unfortunately not the weirdest… Anyway, I proceeded to spend more time thinking about djinn abs than most people would in their lifetime.
I gave up when I could barely remember the last time I saw his chest fully revealed.
Guess "many" is fine for now.
Part Two: The Legendary Grind
"It's a two-parter?!" I squeaked.
"What's a two-parter?"
My head snapped to Zommoros leaning casually on the side of the fountain, everything below his lowest pair of arms still submerged. I apparently never heard him surface.
Ever slowly the book closed in my hands, "...The book that I'm reading." Don't ask what it's about don't ask what it's about don't ask what it's-
"Ah! Then enjoy." Thank the gods.
Zommoros slid back into the fountain and my fingers slowly peeled the pages apart.
I flipped back to the first few pages to confirm this wasn't some weird prank.
Part One: Sold Out. Lucked Out.
…How did I miss that?
Honestly, I should have realized given the book's thickness.
Pulling back to the second part, I skimmed the text, finding it difficult to swallow the further I read. A part of me wanted to stop but my eyes just moved on their own.
Mechanically speaking, Goldclaw works are always solid. Sometimes the idea misses the mark but it's still written well. The first part was just yearning and whatnot, which is fine but as someone with a thorough knowledge of the subject the mistakes that were there were glaring.
Knowledge of the Forge, just to be clear.
The issue was I technically couldn't correct anything written in this part. I don't- I don't know how humans and djinn would engage in coitus with one another. Well, I sort of do but the djinn would need to assume a human form-
…could they do it in their true form?
I leaned my hand against my face. Maybe my lack of insight on such a subject allowed me to… appreciate the writing of this second part better.
A moment passed before I noticed the pen had been pressed to my teeth for a solid minute, leaving a distinctively bitter ink taste on my lip. An exasperated groan escaped me.
Grenth's seven hells…
Realizing that there were a few people waiting to buy items from me, I put away my burden in hardcover form and figured it was time to get back to work.
Tending to customers was done with for the day but there was still work to be done. I had to go through my stock and see what scrolls needed to be prepared for the coming week.
Okay, mostly Gifts of Metal and some Unicorn Statues. Pretty manageable. I'll head over to the scribing station and get started on those.
A few sand portals later and I was in the bureau; a wall of premade scrolls off to the side towered above the human-sized desk at the far end of the room, with several piles of books stacked against the walls and the tops of some cabinets.
…I'll put them away one day, surely.
Counting out twelve scrolls I added them to the desk, along with several bags of blotting powder, ink sets, and wooden pens.
Tying back my hair and removing my gauntlets, I relished having the chance to sit down after what I went through today.
Okay, let's do this.
Making sure to weigh the parchment down before testing the ink on some spare paper, I set about to the monotonous though at least calming task.
People always like to complain that our recipes are too expensive, and while I agree they're costly, part of the costs is to make sure we get the funds to continue researching the cauldron.
However, the main cost is to cover protecting very paper scrolls from the hazards of a water djinn's domain.
Yeah, get back to me after you've tried reading a detailed recipe that's been exposed to 80% humidity for a month or two.
On the bright side, I can do this on autopilot enough for my thoughts to freely wander. Or at least, it'd be a bright side on any other day.
…How would one even… do something like that with someone so tall? Though I suppose the rare norn and asura couples have managed, somehow.
That begs the question, how do djinn normally conceive with each other? I mean in the biological sense of the question. Humans arrived much later than whenever djinn would have theoretically developed the basis for such things, and to my knowledge, there haven't been any other types of half-djinn, so is it even similar to how mortals do it? It's not like the world is spilling over with their immortal kind so do they have some sort of limitation stopping them from overpopulation?
Is it really just so simple an answer as the awakening of the dragons keeping the population in check?
All these questions just to try and answer whether djinn can mate with humans in their true form… for the sake of correcting a personal copy of a book about an erotic retelling of my job…
Reaching to grab the next scroll my hand tapped directly with the wooden surface of the desk. Oh good, I'm done.
Cracking my spine into place I tossed the finished scrolls into my satchel for safekeeping. Unfortunately, until I finished cleaning the various pen nibs and workspace there was still ample time for my mind to go places I'd much rather it not.
Walking back through several sand portals I must have been keeping my eyes on the floor while in thought; I'd grab something to eat, hop into bed early, and a nice extra long sleep would do me good.
But suddenly I cried out from being very cold and very wet.
Turning around to figure out what the hell happened I caught sight of Zommoros pausing his intense studying of a scroll to likewise figure out what the sudden yelp was.
My teeth chattered, "Zommoros w-what was t-t-that for?!"
"Oh! My apologies, dear, I didn't realize you were attempting to walk underneath me," he quickly used a spell to remove the glacial water covering me.
I shuddered a bit but could already feel my body heat returning, "Wait, how in T-Tyria did I get drenched that badly? Do you have invisible water legs or something?"
"Not legs in the traditional sense, no. Djinn are least corporeal below the waist but our forms do still continue beyond that point."
I checked my belongings for signs of potential water damage. It's rare given most things in this realm get a treatment of waterproofing just to be safe, but best to stay vigil.
My thoughts suddenly remembered my question regarding djinn-human compatibility.
"Everything alright, Miyani? I truly am s-"
"What does it feel like?"
He cocked his head, "Pardon?"
Damn my ass, that was terrible phrasing. "I-I meant like- is it like a jet of water keeping you upright?"
"Ah, more like threads of magic weaving together to create the required suspension and propulsion."
I spoke partially to myself, "Threads you say."
There was no way I could bring myself to ask what happens when two djinn like each other very much, however, I do distinctly remember one section in Part Two that covered djinn "legs."
It wasn't much, but I now had something I could use to correct even a fraction of that second half.
"…Yeah that'll work. Alright, thanks."
That seemed to confuse Zommoros even more, "Uhh yes, well, you're welcome?"
It was exactly what I needed; something tangible I could use to fix that blasted Part Two.
The mattress gave a poignant groan as I tossed my weight onto it. Finally, I could relax in bed.
Flipping over to page 156, I found the section after the two characters started undressing.
Really? Snargle went with clouds under the sarong?
'Kay, well I need to completely replace this next part if I want to make it work with "magic threads."
Crossing out some of the more obvious offenders, I was left with a nice blank text-based canvas to work with.
My pen held steady, waiting with bated breath to write between the lines.
Just needed… any second now.
For thoughts to flow forth…
…
…
Uhm.
I guess considering the original text was gushing about how hot the djinn was without his clothes, it'd make sense to simply recreate that but using this new information. But how exactly did Snargle make it seem so simple to describe a djinn's body in an alluring way?
Especially a freaking cloud!
I frowned. I've definitely spent a lot more time around Zommoros than Goldclaw, this should in theory be a cinch.
Melandru's sake I just saw him a few hours ago!
I bopped my head against the book's spin. Come on, just write down the reasons djinn are hot!
Why.
Bop
Djinn.
Bop
Are hot.
…
…They have arms…?
…
Gods damn it.
The clock perched on the nightstand informed me it was much too early to sleep for anyone not tired enough to pass out, so with a sigh I regretfully swung my legs out of bed.
I meandered over to the clover garden, the sounds of the steady flow of water from the statued fountain behind me soothing my frustrations (is it really saying much when there are fountains all over this place?) The book and pen were nearby, but I didn't care to look at them at the moment.
All I cared to do was sit back on the railing and watch the realm's sky darken. Maybe inspiration will hit, maybe it won't.
This sky really does make a lovely shade of pink in the evening…
Long since deshelled of my armour for the day, a bleached linen full-length tunic caught nicely in the occasional wind.
The steady sounds of the fountain were broken by a sand portal's distinctive wroosh.
I waited.
For a minute.
Then two.
…Then two and a half.
But no sounds of a second portal went off.
Sighing, I didn't bother turning around, "I know you're there, Zommoros."
There was an annoyed click of the tongue, "It was not my intention to intrude on your contemplations, my dear."
I shrugged, "It's fine. I don't mind if you hang around."
"As you wish."
He hovered over just behind me, propping his upper hands flat against the railing, his lower hands hanging off the edge on either side of me. I'd sat right in the middle of the admittedly-small-in-comparison-to-Zommoros'-size railing so I didn't think anything of it.
I glanced up at him, "So what brought you here this fine, fresh evening?"
"A small collection of unattended clovers were left out in Acquisitions, I figured I'd plant them here before they began wilting."
"You're free to continue if you want."
"I finished right before you spoke up."
"Mm, okay."
I leaned back slightly, only mildly surprised when my spine rested along Zommoros' chest. Hadn't realized exactly how close he'd been.
His eyes flicked down, "Long day?"
I took a moment to consider the question, "Yeah. A lil' tired."
"...And so you decided to precariously place yourself on the edge of a significantly elevated railing?"
"When it's one of the better places to admire the evening sky in this place, yeah."
A smirk could be heard as he went and rested his lower hands over my stomach, "Best to make sure you don't fall off in that case."
" Pffft okay sure, whatever you say."
This is nice, actually.
Seconds turned to minutes, but I'm not sure how long we stayed like this. However long that the sky shifted into shades of purple and blue, I guess.
When did my hands naturally rest over his own, I wonder?
Likely was more comfortable that way, nothing too big a deal.
I nodded to myself. Yeah, let's go with that.
It's kind of impressive how soft the skin of Zommoros' hands is. Granted, he's probably never had to worry about moisturizing a day in his life. Lucky bastard.
Zommoros was the first to break the silence. "I am mildly tempted to know what brought you out here at this hour. It's not every day I see you admire the cyclical changing of the realm's welkin."
"Oh, that was…"
It was…because of…
…Right.
The book.
And trying to describe djinn.
Specifically, their appeal while nude.
Wait.
And I'm currently-
Back to chest with…
Oh.
Hey.
Hey, brain? Can I ask that you not pick the low-hanging fruit?
We can just enjoy some amicable physical contact without thinking about certain things, yeah?
Let's just completely ignore our entire eidetic memory of the situations that have been described in the Goldclaw novels.
Including the most recent one.
You saw all the inaccuracies in there.
We were going to fix those glaring issues.
Later. Via writing.
Not toy with the thought of making them a reality.
Brain?
No.
Behave.
Brain.
Why must you make me fight you?
Zommoros' brows furrowed towards me, "...Are you feeling sick by any chance? Your body heat seems to be rising."
"No, I'm doing fine, thanks for asking though." That was a complete lie.
I was really enjoying this moment before remembering why I came here in the first place.
There's gotta be something that'll distract me from the subject. Maybe I can use the opportunity to ask some relevant questions to help my writer's block. Tame, very tame questions of course, but it'll keep my mind focused.
What could…
Oh!
"I am curious if you'll humour me on something."
"You're welcome to try. I make no promises," he remarked plainly.
There was a smidge of hesitancy, "What's the lower half of a djinn's face look like? If you're willing to describe it, that is."
His brow wrinkled, "Describe it? That… that seems a bit tedious, my dear."
Eh, it was worth a sho-
A tentative movement from the corners of my eyes led me to realizing his unoccupied hands were rising to Zommoros' scarf.
I spun around to face him, or as much as I could given his hands still resting against me, "Oh you really don't have to if you're uncomfortable with-"
He fiddled with a knot somewhere out of sight, "It's fine, Miyani. There's no one else around at this hour. And… I trust you."
He… trusts me. For something like this.
The front of the headscarf slipped away.
For the first time, I was greeted by very sharp cheekbones framing the contour of his features. There was a nose where one would normally find on a human but lacking any cartilage structure, safe for an obvious septum. Somewhat similar to a skull. His mouth at a glance seemed fairly normal; lips matching the same skin colour as the rest of Zommoros' face, though the moment he spoke I caught sight of several very pointed teeth.
"See? Much quicker to just show you."
My breath was stuck in my throat.
I picked a terrible distraction.
What's that saying about a moth and a flame again? Whatever it is, it's that. That's what's happening.
By the Gods that's what's happening…
Zommoros noticed my silence, "Could that be consternation, I'm seeing?" His lips pursed together briefly, "…No matter, you have your answer, at least." He seemed deflated, beginning to pull the scarf back to its original position.
Brought back to reality, I shook my head, tossing my hair around violently, "No, I- I like your face."
That caused him to pause.
Did I imagine the hurt in Zommoros' voice? I said that without really thinking but now it feels like he's waiting for me to continue, "I guess I'm just- surprised at how much I like it. Maybe at one point as a kid I thought djinn would have scary faces, there was definitely at least one rumour that you'd die from seeing a djinn's face. I knew it wouldn't be exactly like a human's or anything, and sure I'm surprised a bit by what your face looks like but overall it… it's a face that I like looking at. That- that I definitely know."
That's a normal thing to say, right? Sure, sure let's go with that.
Not trying to inflate his ego here but… it's true.
Zommoros seemed to be trying to decide if he believed me or not.
I think in the end, my lack of attempts to flinch away was the proof he needed.
He let go of the scarf, and for the first time since meeting Zommoros, I saw the full extent of his smile. "In the sake of fairness, allow me to say you're likewise pleasant on the eyes."
My face ignited, prompting me to glance to the side. One of my hands unconsciously pushed some hair out of my eyes, "Hah, that's not really necessary Zommoros. But thanks…"
"I'd be willing to debate the necessity of it."
A healthy, albeit unexpected chuckle escaped me, "Oh Gods, I'd rather walk all the way back to Elona barefoot than reenact a months-long djinn debate. Fine, fine, just take your win!"
He grinned down at me, "Not sure I'd consider that to be "taking" a win if it was simply proffered to me on a golden platter.
My face hurt from trying to look exasperated while fighting the smile that ultimately won, "The only thing at stake here is whether my appearance gets complimented on if I lose. It's in my interest to not win."
The wind shifted direction and suddenly my body felt the distinctly cool nighttime breeze shudder through me.
Zommoros looked to the now indigo sky, "It seems to have become quite late in the night, it might be wise to rest before tomorrow's work."
"Oh, yeah that's probably a good idea."
"But…?"
Ah, he caught the hidden but, "But well I'm not in any rush to move."
"Shall I drop you off at your room?" he teased.
The unexpectedness of the suggestion caught me off-guard. However, by some ill-timed curse, or perhaps blessing, from Kormir my brain failed to register the implications of two people meandering towards a bedroom together. Thus I simply snickered and innocently replied with, "Grenth's sake, I can use a portal just fine, thank you!"
Kormir might yet have blessed me still, as it seemed even Zommoros failed to realize at the time what his suggestion might have been interpreted as, "Well if you insist." Both pairs of arms raised in a mock shrug, his smirk poignant.
I just shook my head in response, but there was no way I could hide the smile on my face. Scooting off the edge of the railing, I dropped beside where I last left my book, tucking the contents under my arm.
"Have a good night, Zommoros."
"Sleep well, Miyani."
One last smile was shared between us before I stepped into the sand portal.
Book and pen swiftly tossed to the nearest surface, my hands grabbed hold of a blanket on a chair off to the side, wrapping it around myself akin to a cloak. Huddling up on the bed with my knees drawn against myself, doing nothing but silently screaming into them.
By the Six.
I love that smile.
Unfortunately, it only took about thirty minutes of trying to fall asleep before it dawned on me what Zommoros might have been proposing.
Sleep was an unmeetable challenge after that.
I eventually learned that Zommoros likewise couldn't focus on his current project the rest of that night upon realizing his accidental double entendre.