A Lover's Dance (Elowen & Thalion)

"Three strokes, anywhere I want." He leaned forward and licked the hot tears from her cheeks. "Are you ready?"

She wanted him so much, she would have bent for the cane if it meant he'd take her. Shame curdled in her breast, and she quivered against him, raw and aching with desire. But if she wanted answers, she had to hold on.

Orinthas had told her to be like water. Lightning could strike the sea, but still the water endured. Muscles in her jaw knotting, she lifted her chin. "I am ready, my lord. Three strokes."

Thalion released her. "Put your hands behind your head, lace your fingers, arch your back."

Elowen's scalp contracted. Folded double, the belt dangled from his grip as he stared at her. Her breasts. He would strap her breasts. Mouth as dry as a cork, she obeyed, her knees quaking.

Cupping his hand under her globes, he dropped a tender kiss on each nipple. "I'll raise the stakes. If you can take it without moving, I'll give you an extra question and if you take all three strokes, I'll give another." He touched the tip of her nose with his index finger. "Ready?"

She swallowed against her dry mouth, hot and cold patches crawling over her skin. "Ready, my lord."

His arm drew back and hovered above her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from it. The belt came lashing back, whistling through the air and into her breasts. The end curled around her ribs, catching her just below the shoulder blade.

Elowen screamed, the pain exquisite and excruciating.

Darkness crowded the edges of her vision, the tent fading in and out of her sight as she teetered on her feet. Heat lapped against her skin, and she floated on a sea of desire and pain. Water glided over her spirit, even as her body jerked and twitched, straining to remain still.

Thalion steadied her, kissing along the burning mark across her chest. "That's one. Ready?"

Panting, Elowen hollowed her back. He smiled, and the belt sang, laying a trail of fire just under nipples. Circles of color expanded before her eyes, only his hands on her belly and back keeping her grounded. His tongue traced the harsh red stripes. The warmth of the ocean called to her, her nether regions aching with need.

Orinthas' lavender eyes shaped on to the surface of the water in her mind.

As cup and bottle shape its fluid grace.

Water took the shape of that which surrounded it—like she did, her desires shaped by her cruel fay husband.

Need curved through her like a bolt of lightning, and she arched for the last stroke.

The belt's harsh caress cut straight across her nipples in an aching white-hot line.

Searing agony thundered over Elowen like a wave, lifting her spirit higher in the ocean. Orinthas' lavender eyes bore into her.

Water is more than just a filler of vessels.

In her mind's eye, a stream filled a cup. A cup of water. The vessel lost importance before the essence of life.

Her father's words.

Her husband's desire.

They shaped her.

But she filled the vessel and became the water.

The ogham rune around her neck splashed against her skin. Inside Elowen's groin, a flower bloomed, its petals glowing silver. Her bruised breasts spilled pain down her body, meeting the soft petals in her womanhood.

Moonlight exploded through her skin, melding with Thalion's light. He gasped and grabbed her, crushing her into his powerful chest.

She clutched at him as the cresting wave broke over her, without even a hand to touch her.

Sobbing, she jerked against him, helplessly thrusting her hips, on fire with need. His fingers crammed into her womanhood, thumb pressed over her lady's jewel, and she cried out in ecstasy. Riding every line of pain from the punishment, pleasure turned her into a quivering lump in his arms.

Over and over, she cried out, his hand inside her, her hips thrusting toward him. The darkness turned silver, and she whispered his name as the last waves became aftershocks, the tide of pleasure receding.

As the clenched walls of her womanhood relaxed, he drew his hand out and sat, cuddling her against his chest. His ogham rune hung down onto her breast, almost touching hers, the blue and red shimmers of the amulets staining their shared light.

Elowen clung to him, shivers wracking her body, her teeth chattering, though from fear, pain, or the aftermath of pleasure, it was hard to say.

Thalion stroked across her hair, gently lifting the curls away from her face and holding a waterskin for her. Greedily, she drank, the liquid running over the corners of her mouth.

"What... happened?" She stared at him with wide eyes, unable to tear her gaze from the glow that suffused them both.

He kissed her cheek. "You took the first step on the starlit path." When she opened her lips, he laid a finger against them. "No, rest now." He covered them both with the fur blankets, still cuddling her to his chest. "You can ask your questions in the morning. I promised you answers, and you shall have them."

With his arms wrapped around her, Elowen fell asleep before her husband for the first time.

Chapter Seven: The Starlit Path

Every part of Elowen hurt. Her eyelids fluttered open, breast, buttocks, thighs, and back howling where they brushed against the fur.

Thalion slid his hand under her head, holding a small glass vial against her lips. "Drink this."

She opened her mouth, and he poured. Life glided over her tongue, an explosion of flowers and sunshine rolling down her throat. Her eyes widened as the aches and bruises faded, the agonizing lines of the belt vanishing.

Clutching the furs to her chest, she sat up. "What is that?"

"You have knelt completely naked before me and now you cover up?" He laughed and tucked her hair behind her ears. "It's a healing potion." He waggled his eyebrows. "Made by a water eirnacht. It costs enough to make you consider living without a limb, but I want to reach Pyreheart today and you are in no condition for even a brief ride."

Heat blossomed against Elowen's cheeks, but she kept her gaze on him, refusing to look away. "Thank you. You said we would talk about choices..."

He gave a huff of laughter and handed her one of his gray tunics. "I'm surprised you remember. Very well. What do you want to know?"

She slipped the soft cloth over her head, the ogham rune visible in the V-cut. "Am I... Am I allowed to say no?"

"To some things." He lay on his side, resting his cheek on his palm. "We're married, and you consented to that. We both have an obligation to each other and while you could say no at times, it cannot always be no. The same applies to me."

"But not..." Her eyes drifted to the chest where she had braced for the belt, and a shudder ran down her spine.

"No. There you have a choice." He cupped her cheek, his fingers gentle, but the threat of cruelty lingered, sending a delicious thrill of fear down her spine. "Do you think I denied you that?"

Elowen frowned. "What choice did I have last night?"

"You could have run away." He smiled, his thumb brushing close to her eye. "Diarmuid asked you, do you remember?"

She played with the hem of her tunic, a tight knot unwinding inside her as she considered the last two days. She had consented to the wedding. She had gone to him in the forest. After the nixie grove, she had asked him to cover her in seed for the walk through The Darkling.

The knowledge settled into her mind like a key in a lock, speaking to the hidden part of her fae heritage. Though her other choices had been terrible, they existed.

And I want his cruel touch. The acknowledgement did not taste of shame and betrayal. It freed her. She had a choice, and she chose... this.

Sucking a deep breath down to the bottom of her lungs, she met his starry gaze. "Do I still get my five questions?"

"Indeed, you do."

She sat up straight, folding her hands in her lap. "Why did you use a royal boon to lay claim to our lands?"

"For the same reason every fire eirnacht wanted Aurelian. You and Lysander."

Her lips parted, surprise hitching in her throat. "Why? Did you... Did you know I could be an eirnacht?"

"No, that was a surprise." He touched her nose. "But your mother was a nixie, did you know that?"

She shook her head. "I knew she was of the fae, but my father only called her 'that fairy bitch'. He hated her and didn't like to speak of their time together."

"More fool him," Thalion said with a grunt. "Anyway, back when your mother went to him, she made a deal with the Erlking. No one would touch Aurelian as long as your father was alive. Even after Queen Mab pushed the wild court back from these lands, she held to the agreement. That protection vanished with your father's death."

Elowen rubbed her palms over her thighs. So her mother had loved her father, after all? Or perhaps her father had never tried to understand the fae world.

The lessons of the past two days bubbled in Elowen's mind, and she narrowed her eyes at Thalion. "That doesn't answer my question."

"I suppose not." He rose and called through the tent flap for bread and tea. "Eirnachts become unbalanced sometimes. Did you know that?"

She shook her head, eyes widening.

He returned with the food and handed her a mug of tea. "When we use our magic, for every change in the world, the power visits a reverse change on us." He reached into his belt pouch and withdrew a few motes of fairy dust. The stars in his eyes turned crimson, the ogham rune around his neck flashed.

A flame danced on his palm.

Elowen gasped, her heart thudding faster.

"When I do this, my internal fires become depleted, and I must restore them." He closed his hand, and the flame vanished.

"But..." She stared at his hand. "What does that have to do with me?"

His brows waggled, and he leered at her. "Sex with someone of the opposite element is the best way to restore the depletion. Especially if it also incorporates the... personality of your element. It is why we glow." He spread his hands palms up. "An exchange of power."

Elowen drew her cheeks between her teeth. 'They'll suck the life from you.' "Does it hurt the person you're with? Will it... Will it take power from me?"

"No." He cupped her chin with gentle fingers. "Especially not now that you have awoken your own power. And never when desire is shared as ours is. There are some who would take without giving, and that is vile. But with us, it is an exchange. You give me fire and take my water."

Perhaps that had been the problem with her father. Perhaps he couldn't give her mother water—or take it. But with three questions spent, she could not ask about that.

The spiritual ocean of the night before lapped at her memories. She had broken the vessel formed by her father's teaching. She was ready to forge a new path.

Gripping the ogham rune the nixie had given her, Elowen met his gaze. "I want to be an eirnacht. Will you teach me?"

Thalion's gaze roamed over her, and he tapped his chin. "Before I answer that, I want to remind you sex restores depletion. In your case, that means pain, humiliation, and shame. Do you remember what I threatened you with on our wedding night?"

Heat washed over her face. "You threatened to drag me into the great hall and fuck me on the table." To her horror, a bolt of desire made her womanhood flutter, and she wiggled sideways.

He broke a piece of bread and offered one half to her. "If I take you as an initiate, that might happen. When your reserves of water are low and your fire runs hot, you'll beg me to take you in public. You'll look back at the belt across your breasts as a lover's tender kiss."

Elowen's groin tightened, and she groaned, shredding the bread to crumbs that dropped into her lap. "Is it... Is it worth it?"

Thalion looked away, his expression remote and inhuman. The silence in the tent stretched between them, becoming thick and heavy. His star-filled eyes met her lavender gaze at last. "Yes."

"Then... Then I want to do it."

He took a deep breath and let it whistle out. "Very well. I will teach you. Tonight, when we're in Pyreheart, you can say the words that bind your initiation to me and set your feet on the starlit path. Though I warn you, it is a long road and a slow one. I am centuries old and not yet at the pinnacle of my power."

Elowen nodded. "I understand, and I still want it. Why do you call it the starlit path?"

"You are out of questions." He kissed her nose. "What will you offer me for the answer?"

She rubbed her palms on the borrowed tunic. "What can I offer you? I have promised everything."

"Only when you are depleted, and I judge it necessary." His dark smile sent shudders up and down her spine. "A duty can be enjoyed, but it is still a duty. What will you offer me for fun?"

"I..." Her mind went back to the punishment the night before. "I will kneel for Celia's lash and suck your cock?" The vulgar words sent blood rushing up her neck and into her cheeks, but desire surged between her legs.

He kissed her, mouth bruising against hers. "You little minx. It's called the starlit path because, as you walk it, the lavender will vanish from your eyes, and eventually, they'll match mine." He rose and went back to the flap, calling for Celia. Turning, he pointed a finger at Elowen. "Naked—"

"—and on my knees." She smiled at him, pulling the tunic over her head as heat spiraled out from her womanhood.

And thus we come to the end of Thalion and Elowen's introduction :D There will be more, so stay tuned if you enjoyed the ride.