Come Get Me, Fwin

"Come get me, Fwin," I whispered late that night, after agonizing over the decision for hours.

I appeared in a dark cave, the sound of lapping water echoing off the rock walls. Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the dark and I realized that there was some light, a dull glow shimmering from the depths of the water. It appeared to be a mass of bioluminescent organisms, like dinoflagellates, that filled the underground lake, gently undulating under the surface.

"The morass," I breathed. It truly appeared magical, and it pulled at me, promising everything I wanted and didn't have. "Have you gone in?" I asked.

"No, I've been waiting," Fwin replied.

It was a simple courtesy. It shouldn't have made me feel so respected and valued, and just simply, wanted. I walked over and stood next to Fwin, reaching down to take his hand, just as he had mine the night before.

"Will you go in now?" I asked.

"That's up to you."

Questions flew through my mind. Questions that didn't matter. It didn't matter why Fwin was here with me, why he'd asked me on this adventure, or what he wanted with me. It didn't matter what drove him to spend his time exploring sans wife and kids, in this unreal place. It didn't matter what his desires were for the future, because I wouldn't be in it.

"I won't go in," I forced the words out past my throat which closed in protest of this harsh self-denial.

"Alright," Fwin accepted my decision with seeming ease.

"The way I see it, we have two choices," I continued.

Fwin raised his eyebrows in question, the changed in expression only noticeable because of the extra reflection in the whites of his eyes.

"We can stop flirting, stop touching, stop saying anything at all about sex, and just be friends..."

"Or?" Fwin asked.

I took a deep breath, this was the option I really didn't want to do, but I had to say it, "Or, we can just stop interacting at all. No more nights together. No more answered questions."

"What do you want?" Fwin asked.

But before I could tell him how desperately I wanted the first option, he continued with a cocky grin.

"I am not sure that we can just be friends, are you? I want more, and I wouldn't be sorry if more happened."

I closed my eyes, feeling like I'd been hit by a hurricane, "I guess it's the second option, then. Goodbye, Fwin."

Fwin's ready smile fell away, "Shit, Kletara. Bye."

I crossed my arms and snapped my fingers, for the last time.

I laid awake for a long time that night, hating how much my heart hurt. I cursed the tears leaking from my eyes. It was so fucking stupid to care that much about someone I didn't even know, had never even met in person.

Hell, for all I knew, his shadow self was a complete fabrication, nothing like he was in the real world. I just, couldn't manage to believe that. I tried very hard to believe it had all been a complete fantasy, entirely in my own head. But I'd seen the last expression on Fwin's face, and I couldn't let go of the idea that he felt at least a little the same as me.

I laughed at myself. I had tried so hard to not share too much, but still taking everything he offered of himself. It would serve me right if he felt nothing. I snuffled and wiped my tears. There was no good explanation for this mood that I could give Gorey if I woke him up. It was pure stupidity on my part.

I stared at the ceiling and tried to remember the last time I'd had to get over a failed relationship. It pissed me off that I was even thinking of this little fling in terms of a relationship. My last failed relationship of anything that had evoked similar feelings had been at least sixteen years ago. I considered those old relationships, every single one of them had ended at a point where I either knew I wasn't compatible with the person, or they dumped me. This was nothing like that.

I was at a loss as to how to move on from this.

My mood did not go unnoticed at home. Ironically, now was the time Gorey choose to ask direct questions, the kind which I could never manage to answer with a lie.

"Are you cheating?" He probed.

"No." I replied, relieved that this was true.

"You're not talking about sex with one of those adventurers? Not imagining another life with someone else? That's cheating too, you know."

"I am not," I assured him, feeling guiltily about just how recently I'd been doing pretty much exactly that.

Gorey frowned at me. I could see where this was going next, the reoccurring refrain of accusation that had never before been so close to being true. He did this every couple months without fail, beginning from some fleeting worry, then building himself into a frothing rage. My thoughts skittered at Gorey repeated his unfounded suspicions of my supposed constant affairs, already working himself to a frenzy.

Why had I resisted Fwin, if my husband was already sure I was a cheater?

I closed my eyes and imagined saying the words that night that would take me to Fwin. I imagined throwing caution to the wind and giving in to the temptation to ask all the questions I'd not asked, to say all the things I'd not said, to let Fwin explore me and seek out that one thing that would prove our connection untenable.

I laughed at myself. Untenable? Besides the obvious? That the mage lived god knew where and obviously had his own life. Well, and maybe that was part of the attraction, I considered. He could never be jealous of how I spent my time because he would never really have me.

And what would I give up for that freedom from jealousy? My family? My happy, comfortable, home? My husband who loved me?

No.

"I am not, have not, and will never, cheat," I told Gorey, cutting into his tirade.

That night, and in the nights that followed, I bit my tongue to keep from speaking. Days passed into weeks and still, the desire to talk to Fwin did not disappear. I cursed him for never pushing my boundaries, for never giving me a reason to dismiss him as entirely unworthy.

"Not even a little cheating?" Gorey asked another time, pushing for some admission.

So I gave it to him, "Only one time in the twelve years we've been together have I ever even considered the possibility of cheating as something that I might actually want to do. And I stopped it when I realized I had that thought."

Surprising me, my husband smiled, "Ah, good!"

Good? I thought. Here I am, having an identity crisis, and he thinks it's good? This man who worried at fantasies of what I'd never done, when confronted with a reality about which one should expect anger, was not angry. I couldn't understand it. I yearned to talk to Gorey about my weird attraction, to delve into why it had happened, to find some way to purge it from me. But like it so often did, it seemed we were just living in different worlds, and no amount of talking could bridge that gap.

I gasped as Gorey picked me up and carried me off to our room. Thoughts of Fwin fled from my head as he threw me on the bed. I peeled off my clothes and tossed them away, spreading my legs open, just as I knew he wanted me to do. Gorey plunged his head into my pelvis, his tongue flicking over my clit. He loved to taste me, to claim me through my orgasms.

I gasped and pressed his head into me. Gorey went lower, and then he was laving at my asshole, his saliva lubricating my anus. Tremors of arousal shot through me.

Gorey climbed onto the bed and grabbed each of my ankles in his thick calloused hands, holding them up and out of his way. He thrust his cock into my pussy, collecting the fluids of my arousal there. Then, slowly, he pressed his hard penis into my ass.

He wasn't quite as patient as the Flandoran sheriff had been, but he was slow enough that the pain wasn't too bad as he inched his way inside me. I gasped and gritted my teeth in pain, but I didn't stop him or protest. I didn't much like anal, but Gorey was practically obsessed with it, so I often let him go ahead.

At his cock pushed into my asshole, my mind skipped from memories of Flandor to memories of telling the story to Fwin, and then trying to tell the same story to Gorey. The disappointment of that second sharing nearly stole my arousal so I rewound to watching Fwin masturbate on the plains, his maddening grin as he caught my eye, the incredible power of his orgasm spurting cum up to his face, the way he'd kept my gaze as he licked and swallowed his own seed.

New juices pulsed from my vagina, running down my ass crack and lubricating my husband's cock. I looked up and met his eyes as he thrust, in and out slowly.

"No one touches you but me," he said.

"No one," I agreed.

It seemed so simple in that moment. Of course, I just needed to forget about Fwin and the compelling truth I sensed beneath his mystery. Easy peasy.

The next day I came home to find Gorey in a foul mood, the kind that seemed to come over him every time the moon was dark. On those blackest nights, it was as if the light left him as well. I had fooled myself again, believing we were over this. Even knowing what to expect, his words still cut me to the core.

"You're just like your father!" he snarled, "A faithless whore. You're destroying this family with your Adventurers' Guild nonsense. If you won't stop going, then I'm leaving you."

My heart broke, but I would not let myself be cowed, confined to my hobbit hole, controlled, "I will not stop." I said.

Gorey's expression turned thunderous and he stormed away from me. Minutes later, he was back, "I would go, but I can't take all my stuff, and you wouldn't let me come back for the rest of it, would you? You'll get me kicked out of the shire, won't you? You'll keep me from my kids!"

Paranoia and insecurity erupted from him in waves of accusations. It was pointless, at times like these, to argue or deny. I sat mutely and tried to let the words wash over me. Yet I knew that there was only one thing that would end this, and that would be my tears, my abject misery was the only thing that he could latch onto in this state to show him that I still cared.

If only I could call them on command, I would end it now. But no, he had to earn them, and he worked hard for it, spewing out more hate until I finally cracked, the sadness boiling out of me. I collapsed into a puddle of pain, whimpering and broken.

And then, finally, my husband's tempest calmed. Whatever demon that ate at him was finally satisfied and his mood turned again, back to the wonderful man I loved.

"I didn't mean it," he said, holding me close to him. "I don't know why I said it. Please, let's just forget it."

But, we had forgotten, time and again. I had let my need to be married, to raise my kids with both parents in the stability I never had, rule my every decision for so long. I had forgiven and forgotten so many times. But, maybe, just maybe, I had been doing this all wrong.

Unsurprisingly, the desire to run away to Fwin raged in me. Every interaction with him had been calm, reasonable, and rational - if colored by intense sexual tension. But, if it had been wrong to let my dalliance with him grow when my marriage was not in the thrall of our suppressed issues, it would be doubly wrong now. Now, it would giving up on Gorey, whereas before it was just a dangerous curiosity.

I wasn't going to give in. I was going to fight.

Early in the morning, I broke free from home and went down to the Adventurers' Guild. This time, I wasn't looking for a distraction, though. Truna wasn't just the guild master and a far-seer, she was a powerful witch. And I had need of magic.

The guild was quiet in these early hours, most adventurers being late sleepers after nights full of excitement. Truna was taking advantage of the stillness to clean the lounge. Rumor was that she never slept at all.

"G' morning," she raised an eyebrow at me in greeting.

"Morning, Truna. I need help. Your kind of help."

Sensing a story, Truna took a chair that had been set up on the table while she swept and placed it on the floor. Gesturing for me to sit, she pulled down a second chair for herself. Taking a deep breath, I settled into the offered seat.

I knew that Truna's price for help was always the complete and honest truth. She'd lived a long time, collected a lot of secrets, and shared none. I told her the whole story, beginning from the very beginning of my life. For Truna, a story always started long before you might think it did, and I saw no reason to hold anything back.

I told her of my childhood vow that I would never divorce while I had kids, my abhorrence for infidelity - which had driven my parents apart, my powerful need for adventure and my even more powerful need to be useful and good. I told her of how secrets destroyed my childhood, a secret charged to me by my wandering father. It was the last secret I'd ever kept, and I regretted keeping it.

I told her of my marriage, the joys and the challenges. I told her of my kids, for whom I'd give up everything of myself if I thought it would serve them. And then, I told her of Fwin, who threatened everything with his inexplicable allure.

Truna listened carefully, never interrupting. It felt cathartic to just get the whole story out, all my fears and worries. All the things that my husband had stopped wanting to hear, that he would have stopped me from saying with his objections and derailing sub-topics. Finally, it all came out, the unintentional secrets that had burdened me.

When I ran out of words, Truna let the silence linger for long minutes, not rushing the end. She left space for the extra thoughts that might be born of my monologue.

"I need you to cut out a bit of my heart," I blurted into that silence.

Truna quirked up the side of her mouth, "Aye?"

"The part that makes me want to go with Fwin, to explore him and his fucking mysterious morass in Lythanta. Cut that out, please," I begged.

"There be consequences for denying ya desires, Kletara. It canna be jus' done on a whim."

I closed my eyes, a small bit of moisture collecting at the corner of my eye, "I cannot be a good wife and mother with this desire festering inside me. I need it gone. Whatever the consequences to myself, I will take them."

Truna cocked her head and examined me, "Ay'll do a bit for ya, child. I can take ya desire for a time. But, ya have ta confess it ta ya dwarf and collect th' breath o' his first heart ache. Twill tie th' wound in ya heart ta him, since ya aim ta grow it back for him, no?"

I nodded, "Thank you."

"Tis not all. Aye can only quell ya heart for a time. For a span o' one cycle o' th' moon ay will gi' ya th' space ya need ta work on yar marriage, ta excise th' demon that holds him when th' moon is dark. If ya canna, then th' desire will return, wi' all th' strength that has been suppressed. If ya canna regrow your heart in the moon phase, then th' desire that returns ta ya will be inescapable, undeniable."

My throat went dry, considering the implications. One unburdened month to fix whatever was wrong, something I'd ignored for years. And if I couldn't in that time, then disaster. Or? Or disaster now, I supposed. I couldn't focus with this niggling need to escape into Fwin's shadow land eating at me.

I took a breath and met Truna's eyes, "I'll bring you my husband's pain, and mine."

The old witch in a middle-aged body nodded, then stood and returned to her cleaning.

It took a good portion of the day to work my nerves up to talking to my husband about what I'd been up to in the nights. I had been fooling myself that it was OK, and a sign of that was how hard it was to own up to now.

I sat next to my husband in bed after the kids had been settled and the night lay waiting to claim sleep. Next to me, he cuddled me in one of his strong arms, my head nestled on his warm shoulder. He was talking, as he often did, a non-stop stream of conscious detailing everything he'd done that day, everything that he was reminded of in his narration, and everything he planned to do the next day, devolving into random reminiscing of days long past.

"I need to talk to you about something," I finally injected into his speech, claiming his attention.

"Ok," Gorey agreed, pausing in his recitation of his thoughts.

"I have been going on an adventure with a shadow walker while I slept this last month."

Gorey thought about that for a second, "OK."

"It started out as just an excuse for an adventure, an interesting jaunt into the unknown, you know."

"I know. Actually, that's not a bad way to do it," Gorey mused.

"That's what I thought too," I replied, relieved he was aligned with my reasoning so far. "But somehow it became more."

"More?" Gorey shifted now, sensing that what was coming would hurt.

"I developed a crush," I whispered, then followed quickly with a louder, "and then I stopped going!"

"Ah. Well, that's good, I suppose."

I cringed inside, he wasn't getting it. He still thought this had been a test of my fidelity that I'd passed. But it was worse, so much worse than that.

I shook my head, my hair brushing across his skin, "It's not good. I still want to go back. I want to be back in that shadow world, seeing what that shadow mage has to offer me."

Gorey pulled away from me, "I will not share you, if that's what you're asking."

No, no matter how much I might like that neat little solution, I knew it would never work. My dwarf and I had always been united in our desire for monogamy, until now, I supposed ruefully.

"I don't want that," I said.

"Then what?" Gorey hissed, and I knew this was the moment. I brought the glass bottle cupped in my hand to his mouth, collecting his breath, then plugged the top with my thumb.

Gorey's eyes flashed as he watched this process, "What was that?"

He was off the bed entirely now, looking at me with an expression that blended pain, betrayal, and concern.

"I need it for Truna. She's agreed to cut the desire for the shadows out of my heart."

Gorey frowned, among his emotions concern for me won, "Is that safe?"

I loved him so much, that even in this moment, he was worried for me.

"Yes..." I hedged. It was safer than the alternative. At least I thought so.

I pulled the wax stopper from my pocket and pressed into the open mouth of the bottle, trapping my husband's breath of pain inside.

"Look," Gorey said, sitting back down on the bed. "You feel what you feel. Just don't act on it. I can't blame you for talking go to people, for having a hobby. I am going to work on not being insecure about our marriage anymore, I know that causes distance between us. And, you, tell me what you need to not feel like you need something else from someone else."

If only he was like this all the time, calm, thoughtful, reasonable... I considered his request carefully, mulling over the various aspects of it in my head.

"Honestly, Gorey, I don't know why I feel this attraction. And if I can't understand it, can't identify a reason, how can I tell you what can be done to stop it?" I bit my lip as I considered my next thought, "And I don't think you can simply decide to stop being jealous. I don't think it works like that."

While the conversation drifted on for hours into the night, no satisfying conclusions were reached. Eventually, overwhelmed by guilt and having no answers to offer, I offered my mouth instead, lowering myself to lick Gorey's cock, barely visible in the sliver of moonlight that slanted through the high round windows of our room.

"Ohhh," Gorey groaned as I pressed my fingertips into his balls, lightly teasing his hair there before massaging them gently.

I wrapped my lips around his cockhead like a prayer, seeking his absolution for my sins. Nevermind that he'd already offered that, I didn't yet feel it in my heart. It wasn't helpful that I, shamefully, imagined laving my tongue across Fwin's cock instead, my hands on his balls, fingers entwined in his red strands of hair.