Surfacing Ch. 39

"He looks like a Noldor," she answered easily. "Yet he possesses the eyes of blood, coal-black skin, snow-white hair of all Baenar. There is no apparent mixing, he does not look like the Wilder in the least. There is a discord to our eyes which is unsettling, and I believe you already know this."

"Yes, but a few of us do have other colors of eyes than red," I said, pointing at my own as example, "and so we know there is some Noldor lineage as far back as V'Gedra. There was something for the Priestesses to 'bring forward' when they were experimenting for distinct beauties among the Consorts to proffer to the Nobles. They didn't know he looked Noldor, they just thought he looked exotic enough to be a desirable prize."

Krithannia nodded, smiling slightly. "I can imagine. Does this mean more Baenar Noble families will look less exotic to me over time?"

I found myself smirking. "If you ever meet a group of them, it's possible. He's sired a lot of children before mine. I lost count where Ionne is in the line-up. In the low twenties, I was told."

The Guild Mistress chuckled softly accepted this easily enough—maybe she found it ironic as I did—but still she seemed a bit unsettled somehow. For a moment it looked as though she would say more, but restrained herself.

"Do you find either of them attractive?" I tried, and this time succeeded in startling her.

"I'm sorry?" she asked as if she hadn't understood.

I wondered if Gaelan had been wrong about her remark about Krithannia "preferring the sorcerer's fire," so I watched carefully. "If you felt any desire for sex with another Elf, say in the next couple years, would either of them be acceptable? Or both?"

"I doubt either of them would want me," she replied, back straight and maintaining her poise.

"That's not what I asked."

I hadn't blinked, and despite the Noldor being an expert in withholding her thoughts even when our eyes were locked, I knew the fact they were blue made it easier for her to watch me in return. She had a slight air of disapproval about her, as if I was being rude.

"Sex is complex for me, Sirana, I do not see it how you do."

"You still joined in after the sacred pool at Manalar."

"That was a needed ritual, for many reasons."

"So it was allowed, you could let go." I nodded, grasping that quickly. "And Mourn? When you would 'make yourself available' to be mounted so many times so he wouldn't 'steal' someone else after Waking? Was it really just a sacrifice? Tamuril said she saw you having some simple enjoyment with him at the Ley Tower once, before Sarilis moved in."

Krithannia's cheeks blushed deeply, but instead of feeling that familiar glee when I succeeded in prompting that color in Tamuril, here I sensed an intangible reason or two that I should tread more carefully.

The Noldor exhaled, rubbing her forehead and looking irritated. "Tamuril... She still feels great fear thanks to her family, but in time and around more Elves, she will become more like the Wilder and your family, because it will feed her magic. As it is meant to, I want to see her bloom and if you would offer yourself or your males, and she accepts, you have my blessing. But...I am not like this, Sirana. My magic is different."

"I want to understand what you're saying," I said. "I don't right now."

"You will. In time. Let it be, Champion."

I sighed. "Alright, but at least answer my question."

"Hm?"

"Are either of them attractive to you? Even in an intellectual sense?"

The Guild Mistress smiled in bemusement, indulging me with a considering moment. "If I were to between the two, I believe I would prefer Shyntre's raw challenge. He is quite unlike those I knew back home."

I smiled at that. Gaelan had pierced it, dead center; she could read the Noldor in some things.

Abruptly, then, there was a wave of magic which swept through, invisible and causing no structural damage, yet still striking us hard enough it caused my belly to cramp and Krithannia and I each to cry out in fright. A flood of energy surged up from within us, causing us to shake as we resisted immediate flight and refused to fight each other. I could hear both our hearts pounding and I uttered a groan as I felt sick.

"The library..." Krithannia uttered, her voice quivering, and then finally we had a place to run.

*******

Jael felt pretty well leaving the nazein in her simple and loose exercise clothing. She was worn out in the good way she loved, muscles cooling down and a light sweat enhancing her scent until she decided to wipe down. Doing so was hardly a necessity.

She decided to go to the library next in case any of the others were there—maybe she could talk more while the straight shots were being offered. None of that misleading or mean-spirited shit here. Sirana and Krithannia were both level-headed and practical, and Jael had no doubt Sirana would become as good a leader as the Noldor had become.

Jael was at peace with admitting she had enjoyed the simple conversation with Krithannia before Sirana arrived, and then again when Sirana had joined. There was a camaraderie she'd never quite managed with her own sisters but had wanted, and she enjoyed what was growing now.

She knew her To'vah-krav teacher was at the center of these efforts. The Noldor was working to incorporate Jael into Morix's life, accepting the adjustment without petty jealousy or obstruction—at least right now—and it felt much as Morix had said to his apprentice on their way up, to which she could admit she'd been skeptical. He'd told her that every relationship had its season, and his and Krithannia's had matured past a sexual one decades ago.

Krithannia had just confirmed it; she was not interested in trying to reclaim him now that new Elves were of interest to him, and she had done this before. And...and the details the Guild Mistress had offered to try to prepare Jael for the half-Dragon's Awakening...? Well! It had Jael's imagination singing like their blades.

*She's very wise,* Jael thought to herself, not even trying to tone down the hop in her step as she entered the library.

The only one present was Auslan, oddly enough. He looked up from whatever he was trying to read, stopping mid-note as she entered. She smiled brightly and waved.

"Rare to see you without Shyntre or Ragura, or at least Natia," she commented without judgment, speaking in Drow.

Auslan smiled, quietly laying down his writing instrument. He really did have a beautiful smile. "Natia is napping and Shyntre wanted some time alone. He is in our room. Ragura, I believe, is out negotiating at the market."

"That's something to witness, isn't it?" Jael chuckled, and the healer nodded. "I could tell it exhausted you and you weren't even wrangling the coins with the vendors!"

"Oh, my," Auslan said with a shake of his head. "Both the Dwarven and Yungian cultures are...complex."

"And loud," Jael added. "Especially when they meet on business."

"Agreed. Though I enjoy the food of each. It is quite different."

"Some of it's too strange even for me."

The former Consort chuckled. "Only when you ask exactly what is in it."

"Oh?" Jael took a seat across from him, flapping her shirt a bit to dry the lingering sweat; Auslan noticed, inhaling softly. "Is that a pandered beauty-boy I hear justifying the commoners' and the Low Houses' willingness to make food out of any disgusting thing?"

He took no offense, showing more confidence than the first time they'd met—which, granted, was while he was jailed in solitary beneath the Red Sister Cloister, so that wasn't exactly fair, Still, Jael could appreciate how far he'd come.

"We did the same at House Thalluen after the war," he said. "And I have always admired those who survived in much harsher conditions. Most of us, the Consorts, believed we were entitled to the life we led as 'beauties,' because the Priestesses told us we were, but Shyntre opened my eyes to the possibility that it could be taken away at any moment, and more than once he asked me, what would I do then?"

"Good question. What would you have done?"

The healer shrugged. "I have given it thought over the decades...I could come up with very little given how limited my skills were and how I was not allowed to learn other things. Yet Shyntre himself was an inspiration, what he went through, and he never gave up. But then, in my solitude of worship, Sirana attacked me...tested me..."

Auslan lifted his eyes to hers, and Jael listened intently, never having heard this story before.

"It was the first time I tasted true fear," he said, "and my first action was to grab a weapon—or rather, a farming tool—to defend myself. Though it did not change the outcome, I was still astonished with myself. I saw I was willing to fight...which I did not know until that moment. It changed everything after."

Jael nodded, able to relate just enough to hold her tongue against asking for some of the more lurid details immediately.

"Did not change the outcome...?" she mused. "Some I knew would mock you for being proud that you lost a fight."

"I do not care," the healer replied. "I know what I felt, and it was the beginning of *this* outcome." He gestured around the underground library belonging to a half-Dragon. "Even if we did not realize it."

Jael could not deny that; the Consort had gotten the last laugh, if anyone had ever thought what she just said. "You didn't realize you'd Chosen your Champion right then?"

Auslan shook his head. "No. Something changed, I knew her aura was open and vulnerable from what the Priestesses had done to her. I knew I had made my own mark on her as well... but it took us both more than a year afterward to determine what. And Kerse was the catalyst."

Jael raised a finger. "Almost. Ullipmious was pressing Kerse to do what he did. It was desperate to escape and go back to its Elder Mind."

He nodded, his beautiful face contemplative. "Yes, although it was still Kerse that prompted me to realize my part in it. But for what brought him down... I am glad Lolth's Priestesses began their own decline by capturing that Illithid and torturing it so. After avoiding consequence for so many actions and enriching themselves at the expense of all others, I am grateful something could topple them at last. It took many of us."

She was smiling at this, reflecting on some of the highlights of the final fights. She had never been truly afraid for herself during the fights—maybe during the lead-ups, but not during because she could let herself loose, because Morix was there, because there was only one thing to do: fight back and win. She hadn't even allowed herself moments to be afraid for the others, they would do what they needed to do.

*Well, except maybe Sirana going in to face the Elder Mind alone. That was pants-wetting.*

Of course, now her teacher had gone to Sleep alone as well, and she was afraid for him, too. She understood from things he'd said and from what she felt that he wasn't simply resting. She'd said when they first got here that he felt "far away" and that was still the case.

The low anxiety of waiting for any sign that he was coming back had been constant, relieved only in brief spells when Sirana could help her cum—even better when she could borrow Gaelan's Feldeu to fuck the "Daratrix" as hard as she craved—or when Jael spent some time alone in her room with the Human toys for which they'd bargained...

Auslan spoke then. "What is it, Jael?"

She blinked, realizing she was staring at the blank, stone wall which hid Mourn's hoard from view. "Hm?"

"Do you feel something in his chamber?" he prompted. "Has something changed?"

*Uhm...do I?*

Had the Life Priest really seen something just now, or was he just getting his hopes up that Morix would Awaken soon? She frowned. His calm voice suggested that she pay more attention to her aura...and...she would. It was good practice.

She closed her eyes.

She *did* feel something odd. It was inside her chest, a swelling, a gentle but persistent flutter that she knew wasn't her heart; it was too high, and at once too low. Slowly it spread out down her arms and into her stomach, creeping up to the back of her skull, neither hot nor cold but so keen she could no longer ignore it.

*It's fear. Like watching Sirana walk into the Elder Mind's nest... like waiting in the snow cave, knowing Morix was out there alone...*

Sometimes her mate got these feelings of warning. He never discounted them entirely; he was too much hunter and fighter to do that.

*And so am I.*

"Here, come with me," she said to Auslan, opening her eyes and standing up. She gestured for him to follow her to that blank wall.

Cautiously Auslan did, studying her and her aura carefully. They met eyes kneeling by the wall as Jael placed her hand upon it.

A punishing rush swept through her, but...it should have hurt even more, perhaps.

She wasn't cleared to simply dance into Morix's inner sanctum like Talov had with the Dwarves carrying the half-blood the first day in Yong-wen. It had stung a little when the old greybeard had explained that her teacher had given the Taiding Guild Master a method to lower the protections on Morix's hoard to do what was needed upon their arrival: reuniting the Sleeping To'vah-krav with his treasure.

"But it'll only work one time," Talov had said, "because usin' it at all triggers a change in the spell when time runs out. None o' us are welcome after that."

Including her.

Yet touching the wall just now didn't hurt like it should...

She looked down.

Because Auslan had taken her other hand. They were touching, skin-on-skin, and she could feel his enormously generous will to soothe any pain intended for her, maybe even taking some of it upon himself. The Ward was escalating its Draconic protections, a slow warning to tell any intruder to back-off, but whatever the Life Priest was doing to counteract them...it shielded her from the worst of it.

Jael could, in that small, quiet spot of swiftly-rising magic, both feel the familiarity of her mate, and recall the basic method for either breaking a Ward as the Red Sisters could, or simply passing through it, as the To'vah Word could manage. Protected as she was, she could think, and make a choice.

*What should I do?*

Auslan breathed slowly, his concentration fully in place, unbreakable as he appeared how he had back at Matron's Thalluen's plantation with injured surrounding him.

Jael stared at his eyes. *Goddess, he's powerful...*

"Do what you will, Daratrix," the Life Priest whispered.

Jael didn't hesitate, because she didn't have long and wanted to choose. She stepped through the Ward into a space she'd never explicitly been forbidden.

*******

The place was pitch black, and incredibly warm. The library had been lit so Auslan could read parchment, so Jael needed a moment to let her vision adjust and all her other senses came first.

*Goddess, the scent!*

Warm, masculine musk overlaid every metallic taste inside the den, the very air humming constant with a distinct and recognizable magic. The memories which flooded her mind made her skin ache to be touched by rough hands or licked by a wet, slithering tongue; for her body to be pressed to a semi-scaled hide; and for her slit or star to be penetrated and stretched by a firm, pliable staff hotter than her own body... Not the least of those memories was the taste of his seed and essence, or the way it dripped out or was splattered over her.

Although this was the first yearning to strike her so hard, following on its heels was a patient smile and a devoted, disciplined concentration when he was instructing; the look of approval as she achieved a new skill or proved a new Word could be useful more than once. Beyond that, there was the constant presence helping to watch over Sirana and her baby, over any of them as they slept in reverie...

Yet now he Slept, and none of them could return the effort. He'd been gone from their group for months...

*I miss you so much,* Jael thought as her eyes finally adjusted in the dark and she continued to drink in the wonderful scents of Morix's lair.

She could make out the large pile of coins and gems—both raw and cut—upon which he lay, and surrounding him the small, wooden chests closed and locked. There were fine swords and daggers either displayed somehow or mixed together with the rest as Draconic bedding. Around him, she counted six shields mounted on the wall and ten mirrors of varied shapes—standing, frame, or handheld. Dwarven hammers and axes she recognized, but some metal tools she wasn't sure where they had come from or what their purpose even was.

Just beneath her hearing, the treasure seemed to be humming a soothing song for her mate and teacher, and as she finally allowed her eyes to drink in the shape and depth of her To'vah-krav, the first thing she noticed was that he remained in his quadruped form as when he'd fallen to Sleep; he had not changed back. Other details, he'd kicked off his torn, Yungian trousers at some point before now, and his belt and straps must have been removed by the Dwarves when they placed him down, because they had been neatly and carefully set at the base of the pile.

Except for the weapons cuffs he'd donned in Rennyn's presence back within the Wilder forest, Morix was nude as he lay draped over the smallest and most numerous bits of his hoard. He did breathe, but it was long and slow, so much so that it might trick someone into thinking he did not breathe at all.

Jael gawked more a bit, eyes trailing over his body, her heart pounding. Morix was slightly rolled on one side, hind legs curled, forelegs tucked closer and his neck arched. His tail long, straight, and still, seeming to seek the floor as it rested upon platinum, gold, silver, and copper. Impossible to ignore, jutting out beneath his belly, was a prominent, fine erection.

*Guess he's having a good Dream so far.*

It shifted subtly; she wasn't even sure if it had grown or just...flexed.

Her mouth watered.

*I shouldn't,* she chastised herself, touching her mouth which seemed to become sensitive with the thought. *He's not conscious to give consent...*

Although... even he had broken that rule at least once, Jael recalled. Grief-stricken with Graul's death, holding Jael close as she'd been sound asleep inside that tree-house ...Sirana had coaxed the hybrid to play with her. He'd moved well beyond that as the two of them had pulled down her pants, taking his full penetration while spooning her. Jael remembered her pregnant Sister's fingers rubbing and flicking her clit as she was fucked by her new, tentatively-bonded mate.

They had never asked her consent, and they could have just waken her up to invite her properly. Yet it had felt incredibly good; it was immensely exciting to be woken up that way. Whenever Jae had thought about it, she could imagine it had been more Sirana's thinking than Morix's as the way to do things. Morix had been wounded and vulnerable—Jael understood that better in hindsight—and Sirana had made the decision to touch her.

Overall, Jael been more reassured that she was wanted—by both of them—rather than feeling used, because Sirana could have just coupled with the half-blood herself. She could have offered all the soothing and comfort Morix had needed then, taken it upon herself and, left his new Daratrix out of it entirely while she slept.

But Sirana hadn't done that. They'd kissed and touched each other's breasts. Jael had cum, and she became more familiar with Morix's aura as he did as well. Maybe it wasn't perfect consent by the hybrid's preferred rules, but Jael also noticed it hadn't been repeated or assumed part of their normal relationship. It was a singular circumstance.

In a moment of weakness, he had taken her in her sleep. Now she was tempted to do the same...