For a Song Pt. 08

I chuckle. Mutti always made those, right next to the snowgargan. That was just a pile of snow past all of our heads. The snowsylva was always sandwiched between the two.

The cave we're in works as a decent bar. It has tables and chairs and stools, even a counter. A nice lady behind the bar pulling taps and filling cups. The low chandelier burns its wicks and casts fun shadows over the walls.

"We're helping," I say.

"Not asking for that," he says, "It's my town. It's not a big deal. We can handle it."

"We're helping," says Eliza, "You can't stop me."

"You really can't," sighs Gawain, "I don't think anyone can."

Kay sizes her up and considers it. If anyone could, he has the best shot. In all honesty, I'm actually putting money on my twin. Nepotism aside, the chain has a longer reach. I know for a fact that's not the only thing on him, and Eliza only has the scythe. Hand to hand's a toss-up, but I also know he has at least several knives on him. I keep to my drink.

"I had a word with Treblex," I say, "She pointed me here. Maman also had a moment to spare. We passed someone trying to bring back Warren. I had a run in with a Vermil and a Soddal."

"And a Cout," Gawain interjects, "But he fucked that one and now I'm here."

"Gawain was it?" he says, "That parts a given when it comes to us. Don't need to parade that around. Kind of regret not having the cathouse open now. You would have liked it."

"Are there enough people here for a cathouse? Kind of a ghost town."

"We get the cast offs. And there's a lot of those. And a lot of those cast offs have a good idea of a good time. That good time involves bars and fights and a cathouse. So, I have those."

"Any good times you have are surely coincidental, right?"

"Well about that..."

"He's cut back," says the lady behind the bar, "Dotty, are you going to introduce me?"

The voice this me and it's the schoolhouse bell chiming in. I get a good look at her now and a nice little knot of envy forms in my stomach. Everything about her is perfect. Curvy and toned, hair long and blond and flowing. It's all silhouetted against hips that have never known the concept of falsehood. Eliza takes a finger and picks up my jaw. She's a bit too rough. I refuse to look at the smug grin from Kay. That's something I can deal with later. Her steps shimmer and change. Her hair gets shorter. Her arms get a bit bigger. All of her aligns a bit more with Eliza. I look at him now and the smugness isn't there. If anything, there's fear.

"I got hitched," Kaydod says, "This is my wife, Dantea."

"You married a succubus, Kay," I say.

"He did," says my new sister-in-law, "And he is very, very happy with that. Isn't that right?'

"Absolutely darling. Couldn't have asked for a better wife."

My hand goes to my sword. It's not there. I checked it at the door. Seemed rude at the time, but I think I can stomach being a bit rude.

"Oh sweetie, stop that," she says, "Is that anyway to treat family?"

"Darling, cut them some slack," Kay sighs, "It's an odd pairing. Don't pretend it's not. And I'm sure they're tired. They came a long way. Tell you what, we have some spare rooms further in. Take those and then we'll talk in the morning."

The edge is still there, but he's right. I'm tired. I've had a big day. I've had a lot thrown at me. A bed sounds nice, especially when I get to share it. Eliza still looks like she's about to tackle my new sister to the ground and throttle her. Gawain's taking it well, all things considered. I think he's about to fall asleep at the table though.

---

Gawain flops in the most refined way he could manage. He still looks like a dead fish with boots. Kicking, he resorts to kicking and he is in the best state of bliss imaginable.

"I'm going to kill her," Eliza says.

"Please don't," I sigh, "Kay has enough to deal with. I don't want to add widower to his list."

"Kind of expected him to be skinnier like you Dumile," Gawain says, "Certainly hasn't missed any meals."

"So did I. Good for him. I wish I was fatter. That means I have better food than trail rations and bush meat."

Gawain whips off that wonderful cloak and then more of his clothes.

"I need a bath so bad," he moans, "Do they have baths here? They better have baths here."

"They do. I hope. I'll have some words for him if they don't," I sigh. I flop next to him. The nerves are still there, but I'm tired now. Can't be anxious when I'm this tired. My back hurts, my hips are sore, and my blisters have blisters. It's all sore and painful and terrible. Despite it all, I like it. There's something to all that work and its finish. I have a lot more miles behind me and now I get to take a break. I'll deal with bandits and the succubus in law tomorrow. I have aches and pains and rest to deal with. Gawain rolls over and nuzzles into my chest.

"You need a bath too," he whispers. I don't disagree. The trail has a way of working down into every nook and cranny.

There's a knock on the door and not enough time to respond. It's just Eliza, schlepping an open barrel full of water. She is so strong. That realization chips away at fatigue. I can't be tired when I have so much more to play with.

"Someone's bringing a tub," she groans, "No hot water, but I didn't really expect miracles."

"Say what you want about Blake," Gawain hums, "That was never a problem."

"Well, I'm sorry. I guess I should have let him keep his head."

"Please stop. Just please," I say, "Not right now. Baths and sleep and blankets first. Then we can bicker."

"Pillow bickering," Eliza says, "That's not the worst idea."

While we contemplate the benefits of a good cuddle session, Gawain is taking the initiative. He's stripping and putting up a very good distraction. He bends over and that gets me going. I have an Eliza to deal with and a Gawain to deal with and my own meandering thoughts to holster. Eliza takes my chin and brings me back to her.

"You get distracted so easily," she whispers, "Not a good habit."

"I don't have a lot of those. Mostly just vices that I keep feeding in the best way."

She smirks and pushes me back down to the bed. I offer no resistance. I have no more in me. The exhaustion hits me. It all hits me. I have my brother with a new wife to process. I have an Eliza needing attention. I have a Gawain that needs touch and push and pull. So many things to do and play with and I don't have enough time to deal with them all. I settle for Eliza holding me and pressing into me. I run my fingers through her hair and her breathing deepens.

"Is someone going to get my back," Gawain says as he slips into the barrel.

"He's busy," Eliza says.

"So, I guess it comes down to you. How lucky."

Eliza settles into the bed and considers the invitation. It is something to consider. Despite her annoyance, Gawain is very fun to touch. I know it. She knows it. He knows it. I'm not the jealous type so I wouldn't mind if she does. Then I can move in and touch them both while they're distracted. It's foolproof.

She rolls off me and I find myself free. That's terrible. I don't want to be free. I am free though. And I watch them. That's less terrible.

Gawain's shivering and cold. The hairs on his arms stand on end. He looks good cold and dripping and shivering. He needs to be clad in furs and blankets and bodies. All snuggled and warm and cozy. Eliza goes to him. She dwarfs him. Everything about his body is small. He hugs himself and tries to find something close to warmth. There is only Eliza and the chill of the grave. She's thinking and that's something to be scared of. Not every shake comes from the

"What are you going to do to me," he whispers.

"A bunch of things," she sighs, "I only had a taste of what you can do before. I'm curious. Dumile seems to like you and I want to know why."

"It has something to do with his ass," I say, "And his mouth. He has a very good mouth."

"I agree. It is a very good mouth. But is that all? I wonder."

"He does have some good motions in his hips too."

She hums and considers it.

"Not much to work with," she says.

"Hey," Gawain says, "That's mean."

"For what it's worth," I say, "He gets my endorsement."

"Not talking about that. I mean in general. Dumile, you're on the very edge of what I like. He's just too short for me."

Gawain huffs and turns away. He just wanted a fun little massage, and everything is turning out to a sideshow. Ogled like a red-light whore, and not in the fun way. I move through the veil of fatigue. I let it fall away.

I slip through Eliza and come before him. He is tiny, even for a Kuhrk, but that's no reason to turn him away. I grab a wash towel and get it nice and wet. He jumps when I put it to his skin. The heat from the work, the lingering twitches, all of that is wiped away. I wring it dry and do it again.

"You're much nicer than her," he hums, "Why do you let her hang around?"

"Hey, I'm right here."

"I don't let her do anything. You think I can stop her? You think I can stop you? I'm just a vessel for shenanigans. We are all cast in the turmoil as raindrops in a storm. I let the dance carry me wherever it wants. It just so happens that I keep running into her. I ran into you once and then you never let go. So here we are. All three of us together, dirty and sweaty. Now. We can all take turns in a chaste line, or we can all get naked and wet and cold together. Then do something else together, still naked."

Me being naked is a good enough treat to get her to soften. Always on edge, always knives out and teeth bared. I move back into her, pressing against her chest and turning up to meet her eyes. So dark, so cold, but there's a spark that I keep glimpsing. It's shining and bright. Her hands immediately start undoing buttons and buckles and fasteners. She can be quick when the mood strikes her. I merely lift my arms and let her take me where she will. I tense and jump as ice cold water traces across my stomach. There's Gawain, grinning cheekily as he runs it up and down my chest. The shock is still there, but it does feel nice. A welcome change from the past little bit of my existence.

Eliza getting undressed takes a bit more effort from us, but it's still there. She works with us and then her gown finds its brethren in the pile by the corner. She is more than both of us together, but even still that little rag of cold water is enough to send every part of her body shivering. Bumps on her arms, gooseflesh all over, the ever-encroaching threat of chattering teeth. Her nipples stand on end and that's always fun. Just like me and Gawain. It's cold and exhilarating behind closed doors. It shivers up my spine and then I take the cloth back to Gawain. Every moment of cold is juxtaposed against the warmth of another body. Hot and cold, swirling together. Close and far, shivers and stillness, everything that is opposite collides together. I can't keep anything straight, and I don't want to. It is pure sensation and nothing more. It doesn't need to be anything more.

Gawain gets a bold idea and takes his hand to Eliza's breast. His hand is easily engulfed in the soft flesh. She snaps to his wrist and holds him there. He tries to pull away, if only from the startle response. He doesn't get that freedom anymore. He made his choice and that ends in only one way. There's a lot of worse places to be. I see her gaze sharpen and smolder. Gawain finds that same response I know, and he doesn't know if he likes it. He doesn't get a choice.

I pull away a bit and give them some space. My legs nudge them closer and Eliza cups his ass for balance. That little bit of magic ensnares her and does something to that gaze. It is enticing. It is asking for slaps and bites and full white-knuckle grips. All of him is begging for something sharp to cut through all the softness he has. He is begging for the cruelties of the world to collapse on him in order to bring some beautiful ecstasy. She finds that same pull with a harsh echoing clap as she gives into the temptation.

"He does have nice ass," she growls.

"I do," Gawain whines, "I really, really do."

"Too many cakes and not enough sprints. That's a problem."

"Hey. I get plenty of exercise. And so what? Cake is good. Cake is really, really good. Do you not like cake?"

"I like cake. I just don't know when to stop."

"Never. That's the answer. Never stop. Now keep going. You have very good hands."

"She does," I sigh, "Do you feel how strong she is?"

"I do. I really do. Crush rocks with one hand, shatter mountains, unbend rivers. I bet you can turn coal to diamonds without alchemy."

Eliza growls. Like a cat. She likes words. She likes praise. She likes soft motions with terrible pain, a dull knife drawn across her throat. I snake an arm around her thick neck, moving my lips and nibbling her collarbone. She growls again and it is the world turning inside out. Eliza reaches out with the cloth again and Gawain squeaks and yelps. Right into her arms. She lifts him and we are all so very close to the same eye level. Gawain stares into her eyes and I am forgotten. He is drawn into the cold embrace of the rime covered earth. He is there with me, completing the cave in. We are all trapped here. We are all frozen in time with the endless careening so close at hand.

I watch his erection press into her stomach. He's hard enough to the point where I can see his heartbeat throb through it. It looks so tiny against her frame. Even I do, in all honesty. But the size difference is something else with them. I work my pants down and free myself. Both of them glance at me and back to one another. I wave them away. I'm not the star now. I'm just here to watch. I'm a wandering bird perched on the windowsill. Whatever I do is my business and my business alone.

They play with each other, and I watch them. They move and push against each other and I feel the vibrations travel through the world. I feel the play and it enters me in a churning rainbow. The room smells like dust and soap and bodies and I couldn't be happier. There's a stray strand of straw poking my back and even that can't dim the vibrancy.

Gawain is the forward one now, reaching up to her chin and pulling her lips to his. Even that is almost dwarfed by the size difference. Eliza just hikes him higher. Her fingers dig into him beautifully. I know what they both can do, and it is incredible. I Idly trace a finger along my length, and they look back to me again. They shouldn't. I am on my own and they have their own world to contend with.

Eliza takes them both down, filling our little tub to the brim. Soapy water splashes out and stains the wood. Not our problem. Not our problem at all. He lays on her and she engulfs him, running down his back and pressing him into her. He squirms and tries to go lower. They are so close to being aligned. There is an odd little pang of jealousy. But then Gawain whimpers and nothing else matters. Eliza hums and it is all gone. It is all together and needed and perfect. I circle my length with my hand, and I'm reminded of my life alone. It is now shared and the pleasure I give myself is a treat, a different avenue rather than the only one. I have options now. I have so many things to do. My other hand goes to my sack and rolls it through. Just enough to give it a bit more texture. I know what I like and there is something beautiful in the overly familiar. Different and same, what I like and what I didn't know I liked, all together.

Gawain enters her and there is a bit of pride on the reaction. He's reduced to a whimpering mess and Eliza just gives a soft hum. I can take her better, but that's also a matter of practice. He'll get there and give her what she needs. She'll learn to adjust, as will he. All of us together in one indistinct mass of euphoria. That will take some work, but it will happen. I let them have whatever they want. Right now, they want each other. They need each other.

His hips are thrusting, and they are thrusting well. There is still enough of him and enough of her to melt together in bliss. Her noises are quieter than when she is with me, but they are lovely. They are lost. They are perfect. She moves her hip switch him and I watch the motion carry her as well. It is just the same as it is with me, in principle. There are only so much two bodies can do. Gawain's lost to his babbling madness until he finds her breasts. He latches on and starts nibbling. That gets more familiar noises from her. I smile. It is a beautiful sight, and I am incredibly lucking to see it.

Gawain finds his rhythm and sets a good pace. Slower than I would have gone, but then she can really feel him as he presses into beautiful hidden spots that I glance over. I am in the depths of her soul. He is knives and blades pressed against the skin, just about to break through. He dances on the edge of that sensation. Eliza responds to his efforts, and she responds to hers. They are both using each other and being used. I am using them both and giving nothing in return. I move my hands a bit faster. We are all coming to an end, I think.

I am proven right when Eliza goes silent as the grave. Her own end is coming, and it feels slightly different than the ones we make together. It is softer, I assume, shallower, but still scouring and clean. It is a dancing light for her to flit through, not a care in the world. It is a soft death and a gentle repose. A grave to welcome and cherish and hold. I watch her eyes flutter close and the tension release. There is a slight shake in her legs, bit only enough to tap against the floor.

Gawain's is a bit more dramatic. His entire body goes slack, collapsing into her and popping her nipple free from his lips. He is muttering again, in a dead language of shadows and darkness. Profound nonsense beyond the comprehension of anything still living. I only understand he is having a good time, pulsing into her, feeling the reverberations carry his body into the clouds. He is fluttering and numb.

My own release is a bit more dramatic, if only because I am open and free for all the look upon. The urge hits my stomach, and I am left to tend my needs as I see fit. That mostly involves laying back against the bed and letting it shoot over me. My seed lands on my chest, my stomach, reaching my chin with a few wayward shots. It hits me and I feel the warmth of my core bleed into the outside world at large. A stray rope lands over my eye and I can't help but laugh a little. It's always so fun when this happens. I forgot the hosing I can give to myself.

We all smell of sex and sweat and work in the best way possible. It is heavenly, the glow we find ourselves. Shared and separate, alien and familiar to each their own and one for all. I have painted myself and all the thoughts we have together of the moment. My tongue darts out and moves my seed in. Such a glorious moment of loosened inhibitions. I can't help but let the chuckle in me bubble through my neck. I am just floating in a dull aching daze, tired and pleasant and spent.

"Now you're all dirty," says Gawain. I feel his weight come next to me on the bed. Surprised he got up so fast. Thought that would be it for the night, really.

"One of his perks," sighs Eliza, "And one of my favorites."

"It is a good part," he agrees. I just sit there smugly in my throne.

"So, I guess we have to clean him up," Gawain continues.

"I think that's the first idea of yours I liked," Eliza says.

"You liked the burn everything down plan too. That was a good plan."

"I have mixed feelings about that one," I sigh, "Mostly because I almost got burned up in it."

"But you didn't so it all worked out. You can't judge a plan by how it could have gone. Not how time works."

I sigh and sit back int eh waning light. I let it all wash over me, the endless moment that will end all too soon. But not right now. Gawain kisses my chest and a feel a curious tongue starts to wander. IT finds and pool and then it is gone. Not to be outdone, Eliza starts her chores, worshipping me as I am ought. I bask in it. I revel in it. This is all I should be and all I can be. This is what lies in wait at the end of all roads. I am in heaven, all concepts of it. One pair of lips finds mine and then the other. I taste others and they taste me. I drink of others as they drink of me. Given and taken, shared and stolen, no recollection of some grand tally. No need to have the moment ruined by something so high and mighty. There is no earning. There is no scale. There just is. And soon enough, there is sleep.