Lost in the Light Ch. 09

"I never intended to harm your companions," he said earnestly. "My partner did, but not seriously. We wanted information, not death. Our threats were... hollow. We just wanted to scare them enough to be truthful." Lysia took the seat offered on a bundled blanket next to the red crystal formation. It was giving off a comfortable amount of heat.

"Are you hungry?" He offered. "I caught these in the river, just recently."

"No." she replied, a bit too sudden. Then she corrected herself. "No, thank you."

"I'm sure this is difficult, speaking with the enemy." He smiled. His smooth words were calming, and his voice dangerously debonair. "I'm not very good with that," he nodded to the sword that lay behind Lysia well out of reach of her host. "But I am very skilled with magic. A genius if I do say so," he smiled smugly, but only briefly. "Your Cleric would have shattered me all over the ground if I had not made my body lighter than air. I also spoke to you by projecting my voice through the water. That method also allows me to hear words uttered from far away, or in secret so long as I share the same air as the speaker. Its one of my many... talents." He gave her a charming smile, and reached into his camp gear for a wooden canister. "I could teach you if you wanted... Have you ever had mioh mushrooms? They are very sweet, but intoxicating. Here." he offered her a hand sized blue ball. He took one for himself, and bit into it. It was juicy on the inside. Lysia only regarded it curiously, as she had never seen one before. It was soft, furry, most of its exterior was delicate, but there was a heavier center she could feel. Finally she dared to take a bit. The fluffy part was sweet, but mostly air. It was the gel center that was the true delicacy she found. Sweet it was, but it also had the slight tang of fermentation. She would have finished it eagerly, but prudence told her not to.

"We are not so different." He smiled at her as he ate. "I was given Demon's Blood when I was old enough, just like all the other noble Zecairin children. But it didn't affect me. So I was cast out, branded, and conscripted into a dead-man's duty. I was expendable..." he said with disappointment. "It wasn't fair, but it gave me, and those like me. Fresh eyes to see the terror Zecair was becoming. We have our own 'corruption'. Your Queen is the only one I have ever known to be cured of it. A feat I would doubt if I had not seen her before and after it. The purpose of all this..." he gestured to the cavern with his half eaten mushroom. "...is I am curious as to how she beat it. Perhaps we could come to an understanding and we could help each other. That, and I'm a bit infatuated with you, its your..." she was staring off at the crystals lost in thought. She was ignoring him.

"My lady?" he asked demurely. "I apologize if I bore you."

"A gentleman usually introduces himself first, before blabbing on..." she scolded him. There was an unusual flush to her cheeks, despite the scowl on her forehead. Her host dropped the mushroom and threw his head back in a fit of laughter. Lysia was angry at first at his reaction, but couldn't help to be caught up in the contagious laughter. A smile escaped her reserve.

"I am so sorry," he pleaded once the laughter subsided and he wiped his eyes. "How terribly rude of me. My name is Tamain." He rose to one knee, and offered his guest his hand in greeting. Unsure of the custom, she took his hand -- with which he brought to his lips and kissed it affectionately. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Lysia."

"I am no lady," she scolded him.

"You are now," He grinned and released her hand. "You are no longer an Yvarna, and you are a close personal friend of your queen. Her, sister, practically as I heard it. If that does not make you a lady, well... I will still call you Lady Lysia." Lysia turned away to hide the blush she felt creeping up her cheeks uncomfortably. She smoothed the long sleeves of her gown.

"Do you frequently keep women's clothing with you?" she inquired.

"No, I borrowed that from a friend." He answered. "You may keep it if you like, I'm sure she won't mind. She has others, and I promise to compensate her for it if it pleases you." Lysia huffed in exasperation. He was thwarting her every attempt to take the wind out of his sails.

"Why are you doing this? Why are you being so nice? So charming?" She scowled. He looked at her with a familiarly unrequited, never ending, longing but said nothing. She knew what that look felt like. "You're lonely."

"I am," he admitted. "Just like the others in my troop, I am not a monster. I am just... angry. Frustrated. Vengeful." He said with some retrained pain. "I know what it feels like to be cast out and to loose all hope, but to still strive on in hope that one's miserable life might actually serve some grand purpose." He turned away from her and laid back to stare at the crystals on the ceiling. "Your homeland is in crisis. My homeland is in crisis. But are we be the only ones that see the similarities? Is it bravery to conspire with a misjudged enemy to change that? to unite? Or is it madness? You know what I speak of." He stated. "Tell me, dear Lady Lysia, is there a difference between a Zecairin and an Elthairin in the evil they can do?"

"No." she said coldly and stroked her neck where her mark used to be. Tamain let it end at that, and took a moment to think. He glanced her way to catch her eyeing him, but she quickly turned to look at the crystal again.

"Does it bother you?" he asked sincerely.

"Not physically." She muttered.

"Neither does mine." He sighed.

"Yours?" Her curiosity peeked. He regarded her for a moment before beckoning her closer. She crawled forward until she was almost leaning over him. He asked for her hand with his own, and she quietly assented. He placed it on his chest, letting her feel his smooth, warm skin. Slowly he guided it down the length of his torso, letting her feel every detail of his muscled frame. It was right past the first row of abdominal muscles that she felt a scar -- a brief line. And then another, and another. The further her fingers traveled, more rough, and ragged they felt. "May I?" she asked and he nodded. With polite respect, she gently unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the two sides apart. There on his belly, was a large symbol branded into his skin. She ran her fingers over it, entranced, feeling the rough scarred flesh and the smooth sections between it.

"It was given to me when I was nine," he said.

"Is it a curse?" She breathed in awe.

"Not as such as yours was," he smiled, and stroked her cheek with the back of his finger. "It's a simple brand, made with a hot bit of metal. But it will never go away. Even if our country heals itself, and I can go home, I will have had endured it... and I will never forget the trouble it caused." Lysia looked up at him and stared into his dark blue eyes, searching. He touched her cheek and held it. She understood his meaning once again. "I am so happy for you. You have had yours lifted" she dared to smile at him. "And I am so sorry that the pain will never fade."

"They don't understand that," she looked away sadly. "Not even My Queen, whom I love so much." Lysia was now torn.

"But I do," He lifted up onto his elbows and moved closer to her. "If we are so similar to be capable of the same hate and the same evil, is it possible we are capable of the same love?" She turned to look at him, knowing full well where he was intending to go next, but not afraid of him. Everything he had told her tonight was truth from his own heart, and she found herself enjoying his company more and more. Whatever his ultimate goals were, even if it was just to abate his loneliness, she still felt that they were kindred spirits.

"Am I just a tool for you?" she asked in sincerity. The question was a challenge to his motives. But she was not afraid to ask it and did not shy away from his searching gaze.

"No. You are the goal." He touched her cheek, and held her face as he leaned in closer. She did not shy away, but dared him to continue. Their lips met and she read in his kiss the truth of his words. It was the gentlest touch she had known in a long time. It reminded her of her lover in Elthair, and the pure moments they shared before her life turned to hell. That thought awoke an emotional storm within her and she tensed up. He felt her turmoil -the violent fury he had awoken- and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. She twitched at first wanting to smack it from her and release her fury upon him. But it was that kiss that stayed her hand. The truth in it could not be denied. She touched his face, feeling his features as they kissed. Even with her eyes closed she could feel that he was Zecairin, and she did not want to pretend otherwise. She felt his neck, and chest and the defined muscles that worked to keep him leaning in to her. There she stopped, and felt his heartbeat. Its soothing rhythm banished her turmoil and she pressed him back to the ground as she followed.

Tamain held of her shoulders as she settled on top of him and let her body fall onto his. There they stayed and enjoyed the tenderness of their loving embrace as their kiss expressed the harmony their souls found. It was dangerous, she knew, to give in to such a temptation. But she was no Lady, not anymore, and she never wanted to be. And he was no Demon, and never was, and never could be. At last she was free to choose for herself. So she choose to spite the fears in her gut that he was dangerous, to deny the conventionalism that had abandoned her to a hellish nightmare that told her this was wrong, and to follow her own heartfelt desires that told her to seek out more. Their taboo commitment to each other exhilarated her, her heart began to race as his sensual touch walked the perfect fine line between soothing and arousal. His fingers started to dance down the part of her back exposed by the gown. They took a hold of her hair and in a few moments had her wet mass of curls free of the braid and cascading down her shoulders. She parted ever so slowly from his lips and looked into the sapphire depths of his eyes.

"I feel like a mouse caught in your trap," she breathed, and ran her fingers through his dark hair. It was rather plain. She had seen many Zecairin males, they preferred garish styles to distinguish themselves - bright colors, intricate braids, or shaved heads with tattooes. His was normal, boring, cut short with just enough length for her to work her fingers through. She loved its lack of pretension.

"My little mouse," he smiled and slowly rose to his feet. He shrugged off his shirt and cast it away as he walked to his bedroll. "Will you fall into my trap?" he smirked and parted the fur lined blanket. Lysia bit her lip and grinned despite herself, rising to her feet and coming to stand behind him. Her hands wrapped around his chest and she held his warm body to her. Daringly, she started to kiss the back of his neck, shoulders and the sweet spot between his shoulder blades the made him sigh in appreciation. Her fingers traced the contours of his chest again, feeling the defined muscles of his sides and abdomen. There was a purity to his form that she noticed; those Zecairin elves that had taken her roughly before, were course feeling... scratchy... boney. Tamain's skin was smooth as silk, hardened in some places and soft in others. He was dark, mysterious, playful, and honest... All the things she discovered she needed.

He turned around. Gently he lifted her chin up as he leaned down to kiss her once more. Lysia drew in a sharp breath and let herself go, giving fully in to her desires. She threw her arms around his neck, and let the passion in their kiss grow. His hands caressed down her sides until they reached the beginning of the slit in her gown. As easily as it came on, he pulled it up and off. Not to be outdone, she went for his leggings, managing the buckles at the sides and pushing the lightweight material down.

Tamain guided her down onto the furs, cradling her head in his hand, and brought himself down just above her. But there he stopped, searching her eyes for permission. Lysia was already enraptured with him, but when she met his searching gaze, this moment of consideration and kindness gave her pause. Her resolve did not waver however, his gentlemanly approach only enflamed her more, and she bite his bottom lip playfully before raving those dark lips once more with her own.

Her muffled whimpers moved him on, and he traversed the side of her neck once marked with slow sensual kisses. She moaned and writhed against him, loving his attentions. Tamain proceeded slowly, giving her time to savor each touch, each sensation, and to give her a second helping when it was discovered she had certain weak spots. Behind the ear especially elicited a pleasurable sound that was part whimper and part squeal. His strong hands rested on her collarbone, caressing it with his thumb. As his lips moved south, so too did his hand; his palms glided over her ample breasts. He purposely hovered his palm over her nipple, let it barely touch as he circled it around, and then stroked it slowly with a single finger Lysia drew in a sharp, pleasured breath and arched her back involuntarily against his touch.

When his lips found her neckline, his hand wiggle out from under her head and started to massage the tip of her ear. It quieted her squirming almost immediately and calmed her moans into deep, contented breaths. He took her other nipple in his lips as he continued to stroke the first. She let out a deep sigh, and found his head with both hands. Her fingers wound through his hair until she had a firm hold. But instead reflexively began to massage his scalp out of appreciation for his talents.

Tamain released her ear and moved to one side, giving his newly freed arm room to roam her body. As his tongue circled her protruding bud, lavishing it with firm, wet caresses, his fingers caressed over her stomach until they reached her waiting womanhood. Out of wanton reflex her legs parted to give him room. He cupped her mound and rubbed it firmly with his whole hand. Delicately he allowed a finger to stoke her wet slit, it parted willingly, allowing him to insert one finger and then two inside her.

"Enter me," she begged, between squeals of delight. "I cannot wait anymore. Please?" she whimpered and bit her finger. Tamain almost looked disappointed. But he could tell she was already well worked up.

"So soon, my lovely mouse?" He cooed and stroked her clitoris with his thumb as his fingers massaged her warm pussy. "There is still much more..."

"Another night, my shadow cat." She gasped. Tamain couldn't help but smile at his new name. He did as she wished, and slowly withdrew his fingers. With some repositioning, his hard manhood rested at the entrance to her warm, waiting pussy. Lysia placed her hands on the back of his neck and pulled him forward. He complied, and slowly, teasingly, parted her folds with his cock until it filled her. She sighed contently and brought his head down to her until she could reach his neck with her lips. She bit down lightly and held onto the corded muscles of his neck as he started to slowly slide his member in and out of her. His slow, deliberate speed was tormenting her. But when she drove her heels into his haunches and he refused to acquiesce to her request, she resigned herself to his control and discovered that she relished it. With each upstroke, he would lean into her, relax, and lean into her again, in effect rubbing the tip his cock against the deepest parts of her again and again. It didn't take much of this to work the enraptured Lysia into a frenzy. Her breaths came in quick pants, forcing her to release his neck, until her panting finally caught in her throat and her body locked up as she rode out an entense orgasm. When they finally subsided, her body gradually went limp and she purred contently into his flesh.

But Tamain wasn't finished with her yet. He lifter her legs up to his shoulders and leaned back to sit on his heels. He allowed her a moment to enjoy the remnants of her climax before he continued. Gyrating his hips up as he entered her, gave the delirious girl a whole new experience in pleasure. A few moments of this, and he had her worked up into another panting frenzy. Having already had her release, Lysia was too drained to do else by lie there. Her cheeks had long since turned a bright flush and her long brown hair had become a tossled, sex disheveled mess; Tamain had conquered her completely.

Her dark skinned lover had turned his thoughts inward. His eyes were closed, and his head hung limp as he found an almost meditative breathing rhythm as he moved. But this time around his pace seemed to grow more feverous in step with her excitement. Even a few grunts of exertion managed to escape his reserved composure, as his own excitement was approaching its inevitable end.

"Oh! Tamain..." Lysia moaned. "Oh! My shadow cat.." she gasped despite herself, her hands flailed about the air deliriously trying to find him. He caught her hand and sucked two of her fingers into his mouth. Running his tongue over their length and parting them with it. Suddenly her back arched upwards and her body was wracked by another powerful orgasm. Tamain stopped breathing, and drove his pulsing cock deep inside her warm wet sex as it erupted, filling her with his hot seed. His back shuddered with each spurt, and he could feel the walls of her womanhood convulsing around his man flesh squeezing and releasing again and again.

Gently he collapsed on top of her, stroking her head and face affectionately as he struggled to regain his breath. Lysia only purred happily in between hot and heavy pants, She started running her fingers up and down his dark skinned, muscled back. When his breath finally did return, he surprised her in one fluid, deft motion, rolling onto his back and taking her with him without dislodging them. Not that she would have protested, having been fully conquered she would have happily complied with anything he wanted at that moment, but instead she buried her face into his chest and let her fingers dance over his body as her mind eagerly sought a blissful sleep. With one last dutiful exertion he managed to reach the edge of the bedroll linen and pull the cover over them.

"Content, my beautiful mouse?" he panted, and kissed her forehead affectionately. Lysia didn't stir, but sighed very contently and let her hand rest on his chest to feel his heartbeat.

"Very, my handsome shadow cat," she sighed. "To hell with the rest of the world." Tamain smiled and stroked her back until she drifted off. And soon followed her himself.

*

Author's note: As always, comments and feedback are always appreciated. Help me make the next chapter better and more enjoyable!