Devotia Ch. 10: Habit

Habit

Callie spends the entirety of the concert ignoring her guest in the booth beside her. Instead, her eyes flick across the music hall, ornate and spectacular, trying to see if Calvin had made it after all.

The choir's voice bellows across the stone hall which has been carved out of a cavern underneath the city and decorated to a degree Callie could hardly believe was possible. Huge spiraling grooves have been cut out of the walls, bouncing the sound around the arena and making space for viewing boxes to attach to the cavernous stone faces. On the concert floor a stage faces out across a large, flat area where most of the guests sit; as Devotia, Callie was included in the special groups who would have a privileged place to watch from.

The voices sing in such a way that the music bounces and flows through the cave, sometimes rushing like a wave against rocks and other times soothing like a gentle river's current. For the slower pieces, usually derived from a story of Suul's lover, the goddess Yamm, it was easy to be lured into a trance-like sense of rapture.

Callie's guest, on the other hand, seems immune to the trance, constantly chattering on about whatever vague details he finds interesting. After a seven-minute aside about the particular reinvention of the hollow string spells needed to support the roof of the cave, Callie completely tunes him out, only occasionally nodding in affirmation.

Callie's eyes continue flicking through the crowd, searching for the expected glint of armor that might peak out from Calvin's robes. While he could easily have been assigned to one of the private boxes, Callie knew he hated the schmoozing that came with it, and would prefer to sit amongst the common citizens who he felt closer to. After a few failed minutes of letting her eyes search aimlessly, Callie stifles a sigh and focuses her gaze row by row, meticulously hunting for him.

"Ah, you'll love this next piece, hal Devotia," Frinniel leans in excitedly, "I've heard the Madrigals rehearsed it from Sunrise to Sunset for weeks simply to get the overtones locked in."

"They sound lovely," Callie replies vacantly.

"It's the Mirage of Kelinor Sunshade, though I do believe the Lord Madrigal has rearranged its ending to savor its impact," he continues, shifting his weight on the luxurious sette next to her. "Have you ever heard the original? If not, I must arrange for an encore for you sometime."

"I have not, Lord Artificer."

Stifling the urge to roll her eyes, Callie resumes her scan of the audience, slowly making her way past the first rows without success. She pushes away the fear that Calvin isn't wearing his armor at all, doubting she could see him from this high above without it.

"Well you simply must," Frinniel confirms.

The next song begins, though Callie hardly pays it much notice. To her ears, it's hardly distinguishable from anything she's heard so far, and while it's beautiful and balanced, she doesn't feel that it warrants much focus.

What if he couldn't make it after all? She dreads as her search continues fruitlessly. He did warn that the Paladins might receive new orders this week.

Callie sighs quietly. Calvin was out visiting Havel last week, and hasn't been attending any of the same events as her since two weeks before that. It feels like ages since she's been able to summon him, much less talk with him. Calvin had been so hopeful he could make it today...

"Oh, do be sure to notice the parallel eighths here, hal Devotia!" Frinniel whispers excitedly. A few seconds of music continue, which don't stand out to Callie much, and he closes his eyes contentedly before looking at her and saying, "Exquisite, don't you think?"

"Positively radiant," Callie nods politely.

Callie wonders also where Junivere might be. She knows that her fellow Devotia is probably here as well, likely entertaining a gaggle of devoted supplicants, but she doesn't spot her in any of the boxes. They'd grown so close over the last month and a half, and Callie is only recently ready to begin acting as Devotia without Junivere's support at her side. Normally, Junivere is around to exchange knowing glances, amused glares, and even to occasionally sneak away for a few precious moments when the people around them are too much.

'Well now, hal Devotia," Frinniel takes a satisfied breath as the song concludes, "I thank you for your patience. Might I turn now to the matter of business I've come to ask of?"

She turns to look back at him, legs tucked up on the sofa to create a little distance between them during the concert. "Of course, Lord Artificer. It has to do with the monastic reconstruction, correct?" She steadies herself slightly, letting her focus return to her duties.

"Indeed, hal Devotia," he smiles. "How astute your memory is."

Callie's eyes take him in more thoughtfully for a moment. With every devoted platitude he offers, she comes closer to the conclusion that he would be more attractive if he spoke less. He's relatively well-built, has an established and noble taste in fashion, and a pleasant smile, but it too often feels obscured by pretense. She wishes he would simply speak his mind instead of dancing through niceties; the confidence would suit him.

"The Mount Beacon Monastery, as your keen memory must recall, was damaged in last winter's avalanche," he continues. "I have been traveling frequently with my team to assist the monks in repairs, but it has been surprisingly laborious."

"How so?" Callie says, pushing away her annoyance as best as possible. With a few stealthy deep breaths, and the soft sound of the choir resuming below, she's able to refocus a bit. She turns to face him more clearly, scooting forward and placing a more interesting smile upon her face.

Frinniel shifts again, resting his arm on the back of the sette and leaning in. "While it isn't overly far, it can take a great deal of power to lift the components back into place. Our mages are quite exhausted from the task of repairing threadstone."

"I imagine so," Callie nods. She moves her legs slightly, letting a little more skin show underneath and hiding her smirk as Frinniel's eyes flick immediately towards them.

"With more strength," his eyes drop again quickly before hastily returning to her gaze, "we might be able to complete the task before the first snow in the fall. The monks would be very appreciative..."

"Indeed?" Callie lets her voice rise innocently. "Well we must ensure that is so."

"As your wisdom decrees, hal Devotia."

"I am quite sure Suul smiles on these efforts," Callie's tone lowers, a little more suggestive. She moves closer, ensuring he notices her eyes take a long look at his lap as he does, and she revels in the anticipatory shift he makes in his seat. His face flushes ever so slightly. "You must be so in need to come all this way for my help. So dedicated."

"You honor me, hal Devotia."

"Is there something you would like to ask of me, Lord Artificer?" Callie lets her leg lightly touch his, wondering if she's laying it on a little too thick. But, as his skin turns bright pink and she notices a rebellion against the belt to his trousers, she figures it must be working.

"A-a blessing, hal Devotia."

"I would be happy to provide one," she nods, letting her dress reveal a little bit more of her meager cleavage. She loves the feeling of Frinniel scrambling to keep focused as she moves in closer. "What have you heard about me, Frinniel?"

"Ahem," he clears his throat and looks away, a bit bashful. "That you're... I'm not sure what the appropriate word is, hal Devotia."

"Then tell me anyway," she places a hand on his knee, pulling his gaze back to her. Junivere had given Callie so much advice on how to make people desperate for her, and she thoroughly enjoys all of the different reactions. Some were forward and eager, but others like Frinniel were more sheepish, and she finds it delightful to toy with them.

"I'm not sure that I should repeat-,"

"Frinniel," Callie raises her hand to his chin, turning it to look into her eyes, where she wears a seductive and confident glare. His body tightens, captivated by her touch. "Please," she softens her look, pulling him in further, "There is no need to be afraid to speak plainly. Lady Suul's light shines in truth."

Frinniel nods nervously, eyes struggling not to drop lower.

"What do they say about me?"

He takes a quick gulp, replying, "That you're... ahem... generous with your mouth." He cowers slightly, concerned for her possible reaction.

Callie smiles, "Thank you, Frinniel."

"Is it true?"

"Would you like to find out?"

Frinniel's eyes widen quickly, and as Callie lets go of his chin he nods rapidly. She smiles, gently pushing him to lay back on the cushions and climbing over him. Callie lets her hands run across his thighs lazily, putting a little pressure occasionally and watching his excitement build in response.

She reaches towards his belt, undoing it as slowly and methodically as possible while making eye contact with the animated artificer before her. "I do have a couple of questions, however, Lord Artificer."

"Of course, hal Devotia," he exhales, face flushed with color.

Callie lowers the belt, letting his erection spring out from underneath his underwear. She places a kiss on the skin near its base, turning back up to face him. "Your mages, the ones who are so exhausted. How much do you pay them?"

"12 gold a week, hal Devotia," he croaks out, struggling to maintain his composure.

"And how much are you paid?"

He closes his eyes and takes a long breath as Callie drops a hand to put pressure just below the shaft, rubbing it slowly. "I'm not sure it's releva-,"

"It is to me," she replies calmly, letting her warm breath land on his tip, already leaking precum in anticipation.

"3-300," he croaks.

"Thank you, Lord Artificer," Callie nods, placing a kiss at the bottom of the shaft. "You will be reducing your pay and giving it to them, understood?"

Frinniel freezes, staring at her with an expression of disbelief on his face. She meets his gaze, quietly staring him down to convey her seriousness, and as she pulls back slightly, threatening to end the blessing altogether, he folds.

"Of course, hal Devotia."

"Good boy," she chirps. She runs her tongue across the sensitive skin, moving slowly so that he can savor every little sensation along the way. "An extra 5 gold a week each should do, I believe."

"But that's-," he begins, interrupted by Callie taking him into her mouth, and she smirks as his eyes roll back with pleasure. "Yes!"

With his confirmation, Callie nods happily, moving one hand to stroke his shaft while the other rubs below and her tongue flicks around the tip. She throws herself into the task, closing her eyes and hoping he'll be quick. With each taste, Callie can almost imagine it's Calvin, and her heart aches a little.

"Hal Devotia," a voice calls from the hallway outside of the booth. "Your presence is required."

"Of course!" Callie calls back quickly, thankful the couch hides the two of them. She sits up, feeling sympathetic for the disappointment on Frinniel's face. "My apologies, Lord Artificer. It seems our time is at an end."

"But..." He sighs. "Very well, hal Devotia."

If only you didn't waste your time talking the whole concert, she mutters inside.

Frinniel sits up, lifting his pants to cover himself again. He takes a look out over the concert hall, standing up and preparing to leave. Callie grabs his hand and gently sits him back down into the seat.

"A moment," she tells him, taking a deep breath. "You may not need to leave empty-handed."

"But I thought-,"

Callie holds up a hand, placing it into his own for a moment and closing her eyes. She takes a deep breath, trying to focus and call out to Suul. She exhales quietly, searching for the tingling sensation inside that accompanies the feeling of magic. She feels it bubble slightly and attempts to pull it out.

As she opens her eyes, a little tiny spark of light courses onto his hand, spreading out over his body. Callie watches it closely for a moment, hopeful to see it expand and burst into the brighter tendrils of light she was used to, but after a few tense moments, it doesn't.

"My apologies, Lord Artificer. It seems it's not in Suul's will." She stifles a sigh. It isn't entirely a lie, but Callie also knows it has more to do with her own shortcomings as Devotia. Junivere always makes it look so easy.

After another deep breath, Callie tells him, "I encourage you to stay here. Enjoy the remainder of the concert."

"But this is the Devotia's booth, I shouldn't-,"

"Nonsense," Callie waves him to sit back down. "I'd like you to remain."

"Thank you, hal Devotia," he smiles politely. "I suppose I might stay for the Gorola Nocturnes."

"Enjoy," she says happily, turning at the entrance to the booth. "And do be sure that your mages receive their raise. It is not good to lie to a servant of Suul."

Frinniel nods, watching her hungrily as she ducks between the lavish curtains. Callie steps out into the carpeted hallway, looking for the voice that had summoned her, but finds it empty. She gazes down both ways, taking a few steps forward and furrowing her brow in confusion.

A hand suddenly closes around her mouth, quieting the surprised yelp that escapes her lips. Another hand joins it, gripping her torso tightly and pulling her back into the wall just outside of the booth. Callie's sense alite and she scrambles to try to break free, frustrated that the captor seems to be stronger than her. A brief panic rockets through her until the captor's voice bounces in her ear.

"Relax, Callie," Junivere coos behind her, just above a whisper.

Callie fights for a moment, and then nods with frustrated understanding, feeling the adrenaline still course through her veins as she tries to calm herself. She raises a hand to her covered mouth, hoping to speak, but Junivere keeps it in place firmly, leaning back against the wall and dragging Callie into her soft body.

"Shh," Junivere's voice tickles her ear. Callie tries to speak again, but Junivere's hand holds fast. "There's no need to say anything. Just enjoy yourself."

Callie is about to ask what Junivere means when she suddenly feels a hand reach under her skirt. Junivere pulls her panties down carefully and Callie feels her heart drum across her chest. Frinniel was right there, what was she thinking?

"Stay quiet," Junivere orders, as though reading Callie's mind.

Her hand caresses the underside of Callie's clit, which hardens quickly at her touch. Callie squirms quietly in place as Junivere begins stroking slowly, feeling puffs of air blow out onto Junivere's fingers at her mouth. She hates to admit it, but Callie is helpless to resist Junivere's soft touch, always folding quickly into the pleasure that follows.

"I was across the hall from you all concert," Junivere's voice buzzes with lust, "watching you do so well with him... wishing I was with you instead of the idiots I was around."

Callie leans back into Junivere, struggling to maintain balance as her fingers circle the drips of precum leaking from her clit. She tries to contain her moans as the speed increases gently, holding her breath and only letting it go in tightly controlled streams.

Callie shifts slightly, freeing her lips from Junivere's hand briefly, "You shouldn't have interrupt-," she hisses, only to be silenced once more. Junivere's hand tightens on her erection, forcing Callie to stifle a heaving sigh.

"Shh-shh," Junivere breathes, continuing to tease Callie. "I was listening to you working... and I'm so proud of you." Callie's heart flutters quickly as she feels herself give into Junivere's grasp. "You deserve a reward, don't you think?"

It takes all of Callie's focus to remain quiet, pushing back against the blissful waves flowing through her body. She shuts her eyes tightly, trying to direct her attention to staying as stealthy as possible; but as Junivere's massage fills her with need, it feels as though she's fighting a losing battle.

"What reward would be fitting?" Junivere places a kiss on the side of Callie's neck. "Should I bless you?" Callie shudders delightfully at the suggestion. "Or maybe I should take one from you..."

Callie releases another tense breath through her fingers, feeling her body growing hot and slick with sweat as Junivere brings her closer to the edge. She throws her own hands over her face, pressing down into Junivere's with the hopes it'll stifle her gasps, steadily increasing in pitch. She feels the sounds buzz in her chest, somewhere between a whimper and a moan, rocking her hips hungrily as the feeling takes over. Junivere slips one of her fingers into Callie's mouth, making her suck on it thirstily.

"What do you think Frinniel would do if he saw you right now?" Junivere wonders, voice low and lascivious. "Gods he'd be aching to touch you, don't you think?"

Junivere's words pour through Callie's mind, sending elated jitters to fill out the sensations. She imagines Frinniel seated in front of them, jealous and desperate for her, knowing that Callie belongs only to Junivere. With every stroke, Callie empties herself of anything other than devotion to Junivere, desperate for her approval, for the gift of her touch.

"Tell me when you're close, understood?" Callie hardly hears the words, only nodding after Junivere ceases touching her, resuming happily after she does. Her legs tremble slightly as she attempts to hold the surges of pleasure at bay.

Junivere has been making good on her promise to give Callie more practice the last month and a half. They spent most nights together; and even when they didn't have sex both appreciated having a companion against the loneliness of the night. As much as Callie may have initially resisted admitting her desires, Junivere had been right. The more comfortable Callie grew, the more she adored her role as Devotia and all the things that came with it.

Callie exhales another barely quieted moan as she thinks about all of her encounters with Junivere. Most of the time, it feels surprisingly simple and comfortable, exploring each other as friends and something more than friends. But other times, like today apparently, Callie is helpless to resist the power Junivere likes to wield over her. The older Devotia loves to watch Callie squirm desperately in her arms, eager to please, eager to obey, and completely at her mercy.

"Is someone there?" Frinniel's voice calls out from the booth, and a wave of alarm crashes through Callie. "Hal Devotia, are you still there?"

"Tell him..." Junivere whispers mischievously as Callie's heart pounds heavily. She removes her hands from Callie's mouth, but doesn't stop stroking her.

"Y-yes, Lord Artificer," Callie squeaks out, pausing briefly to repress the sounds trying to burst out of her. "Just having... having a brief conversation with my associate."

Callie's eyes shut tightly as she feels the orgasm creep closer. She returns a hand to her mouth, breathing in short quick pants as quietly as possible. Junivere's speed increases once more and Callie struggles to remain standing, twitching tensely with each delicious sensation.

"How close are you?" The Devotia's voice drips with pride.

Before Callie can respond, Frinniel calls out once more. "If it's not too much trouble, hal Devotia, might I ask another question before you leave?"

"Close," Callie hisses, then says louder to Frinniel, "Just a m-moment, Lord Artificer."

"It should only take a few seconds of your time," he replies, and Callie hears the cushions of the couch rustle slightly as he stands. She tries to fight against Junivere's grasp, but she holds Callie firmly in place.