The Exarch & the Errand Girl Ch. 18

For nearly a week, Rouran had not had a moment of peace. It seemed there was always some clerk or messenger at her arm, reminding her of something that needed doing that only she could do, or a meeting only she could attend. The city was in desperate need of putting to rights, and it had occurred to her that Lord Ked had abandoned the post of Exarch just at its most difficult.

Not that he'd been of no use. To his credit, he'd served her very much as she'd served him, ushering in the various trade guilds and citizens to hear their concerns in the wake of Lord Cail's Rebellion, as it had quickly become known. It had been a startling bit of reversal, and she still found herself sitting on the wrong side of the desk instinctively, Ked constantly reminding her that she was sitting in his chair, and the Exarch's Bench was hers now. She had expected to find him attempting to run the city himself for her, but instead he'd taken a quiet, circumspect route to teaching her how to be the Exarch, announcing each new petitioner with a soft word of his existing relationship with them and presenting the dilemma if she granted their request or not with an unbiased view, leaving it entirely to her to decide the right course.

So she was not surprised to see him shuffle into the Exarch's Chamber in the Noble Hearth and announce himself with a soft cough.

She was, however, surprised to see that the person accompanying him was Yvain Wair.

"I will take my leave now, Exarch," said Lord Ked, as he made his way to the door. "This is your last meeting of the day."

"I..." started Rouran, but he waved at her, making sure to close the door as softly as possible.

Both Rouran and Yvain stared at the wood of the door for too long after he'd gone. It was Rouran that spoke first.

"I'm sor—"

Yvain shook his head and coughed loudly.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, Exarch."

"You haven't heard what I'm sorry for."

"Is it for not seeing me?" asked Yvain.

"Yes," said Rouran, blushing behind her desk. Yvain smiled, then shook his head again.

"You're the Exarch, Rouran. You don't have time to meet with Guard Sergeants. And you're no longer responsible for the investigation. There is no investigation anymore."

He sighed.

"And I should've tried to speak to you sooner. I'm sorry."

"How would a Guard Sergeant like you have gotten an audience with the new Exarch earlier than this?" asked Rouran.

"Well, how did I get this one?" asked Yvain.

"I requested it," said Rouran. "Two days ago, I was sick of not seeing a face that saw me as something other than the Exarch of Tia Vashil, and since I have no desire to haul Uda up here to spit in my face, I called for you."

"It took two days?"

"So I'm told," said Rouran. "I've certainly been busy enough."

"Well, what did you want to talk to me about?" asked Yvain.

"Between the failure of the conspiracy, and my election, nobody has answered any of the questions I have about our investigation, and I wonder if you might clear some of them up, since I understand you've continued on with the last pieces."

"I will do my best, Exarch," said Yvain. She smiled at his use of her title.

"Lord Tau's order with Master Quellar. We never cleared that up."

"Cadril has told us that Tredgar placed the order under his cousin's name. Master Quellar had no familiarity with Lord Tau, or with Cail's sons, so he could not be expected to tell the difference. It was, apparently, Nywell's idea."

"And how did Siara escape our notice, that night in the sewer?"

"Again, according to Cadril, who I will admit has been very forthcoming about the Children of Tia Vashil, she entered the sewer almost immediately after we split up, then escaped by collapsing the tunnel that apparently led up to the vai Keller estate, then exited the estate and made her way back to the alleys where we first split up. It's also why Belgair went into the sewers—he was trying to get to the vai Keller estate without being seen. Siara had hoped to confuse us with a wild chase through the streets."

"She could have killed us many times, and chose not to," observed Rouran.

"Don't ascribe that to her morals. Cadril said Cail ordered her to not take any direct action against us until the coup was already in motion, just to observe and report. In a way, she was the rebellion's liaison to the investigation. If Belgair had killed us in the tunnels, she wouldn't have been exposed, but when I killed him, she killed Nywell to keep him from talking if he was captured, then fled. There was no place left in the city for him to hide, and if he'd escaped, we'd have searched the entire Guild Hill room by room, so there was no way to extract him, either."

"Did she know Belgair, when we encountered him in Ur's Quarter?"

"She did. Belgair was, apparently, a true zealot, which is why they had him as the guardian of that safehouse. But he was truly against Sorcerers, which is why he attacked her. A moment of opportunity, he thought. She did, however, manage to take control of his interrogation at the Guild and perform the scry of his mind herself, preventing him from exposing her."

"How did she manage to secure herself as the Guild's liaison in the first place?"

"A sick joke of fate, honestly. She didn't. Just luck that Heldi trusted her enough to make that appointment. In a way, it worked somewhat to our advantage—her assignment prevented her from operating as freely as she might have. And it brought her movement around the city under more scrutiny."

He blushed.

"Something else?" asked Rouran, curious about the sudden display on Yvain's face.

"She...uh...she slept with me not out of some desire or amusement, but as...well, a distraction to keep my attention away from her."

Rouran shook her head.

"Well, that worked extraordinarily well."

"Yes," agreed Yvain. "Are those all your lingering questions?"

"That's all."

"Is there anything else you need of me, Exarch?"

"Nothing," said Rouran. "Everything."

She pushed her chair away from the desk and leaned back in it, then put her feet up. She knew she shouldn't do it. Lord Ked had told her about the desk and its provenance as the Exarch's desk for over a hundred years, and yet, her body demanded comfort.

"To be honest, regardless of my questions about the investigation, I just wanted to see you," she said.

He smiled.

"I've missed you too," he said. His grin was infectious, the broad toothy smile shining through his half-grown facial hair.

"How would you like to be Guard Commander?" she blurted out.

Yvain looked shocked.

"Well, I need one," said Rouran. "And I can't trust half the Guard. We have no idea how many of Lord Cail's rebels escaped detection. You know them, you could lead them."

"I'm a Sergeant," said Yvain.

"So what?" asked Rouran.

"So there are two ranks between me and Commander," said Yvain. "I'm not qualified to run the entire city's Guard."

"I'm running an entire city!" said Rouran.

"But you know what you're about," said Yvain. "I'm only qualified for crime. I've no head for politics or speaking to nobles. Or, worse, the Guild. You've seen me."

"Nonsense," said Rouran. "You'd do fine."

"I'd be weak," said Yvain. "I'd be forever seen as your lapdog."

"What?" asked Rouran.

"I mean...people know of us, Rouran. Lord Ked. Mistress Heldi, for certain. Lady Elina and Lord Tau. Lord Ked was a champion of the Guard, but it was always known to possess a certain independence from him. How could anyone think that if I spend my nights in your bed?"

"Who says you'll spend your nights in my bed?" sniffed Rouran.

Yvain didn't know what to say to that, but he continued on. "Even if things should change, that reputation will hang over me. No one will trust the Guard as anything other than a tool of the Exarch if I lead it."

"Well, then, there's a headache I still have," said Rouran. "Maybe inviting you here wasn't worth it."

"I have a suggestion," said Yvain.

"Oh? Know of a man in the Guard I can trust not to have been part of Lord Cail's rebellion?" asked Rouran.

"Sort of," said Yvain. "He's not in the Guard, but he could do."

"Who?"

"Lord Tau," said Yvain.

"What?" asked Rouran. "He's Lord Cail's nephew."

"Aye," said Yvain. "But everyone saw him fight that day on the estate. Everyone saw him almost renounce his name."

"But he's still got his name."

"And you said you don't know how many Guards are still loyal to Lord Cail. Well, I would bet all the gold I've ever held that none of them will know how loyal Lord Tau might be to Lord Cail or to you, either. Meanwhile, the rest of us can't deny that he fought and killed for city over kin, even if we're suspicious of him. And he's more than qualified. He led troops at the Battle of Tia Joi."

"But what if I'm suspicious of his loyalty?" asked Rouran.

"Then you'll just have to exercise the Exarch's powers and remove him if he treads into dangerous waters," said Yvain. "You can do that. The Guild will support you in moving someone you think is a potential threat to them."

Rouran chewed on it for a moment.

"You said you didn't have a head for politics," she said.

"Maybe I meant that I don't want to do them." said Yvain.

Rouran couldn't hide her smile, and finally she gave a sharp giggle.

"I wish I could just not do them too," she said.

Yvain stepped forward, then paused, looking for some sign from her that it was acceptable. She gave him a soft nod and he walked up to her desk, then around it, leaning back on it by her feet.

"You cut your hair," he said.

Rouran had thought about taking it further. The style in Tia Vashil seemed to be favoring sharper, deeper cuts, in emulation of the Dragon Clans, who liked to cut so close they were practically clean shaven, but she had thought about the braid she'd liked to wear and decided against abandoning it all.

She had not realized how much weight it was. When she moved her head, it felt like she was shaking free after wearing shackles for a dozen years.

"Yes," she said.

"Why?" he asked. "For me?"

"No!" exclaimed Rouran. "The ego on you, Sergeant, is sometimes unbearable."

"Then...why?"

"Because Lady Rouran vai Metil doesn't have to mourn her deceased, philandering husband like Rouran Metil did," she said. She laughed. Yvain looked at her quizzically.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I had a thought—Naklas was the Metil. I was Rouran Benen, when I was born. He would be quite pleased with himself to have a 'vai' in front of his name."

"Ah," said Yvain, chuckling. "Why didn't you ask to be vai Benen?"

"I never cared for my father's name either," she said. She glanced up at him, pulling her feet off the desk and sitting up. He seemed to regard her warily.

"I'm very tired of being the Exarch," she said. "And it's barely been a full week."

"Imagine what it'll be like after a month," said Yvain.

"Oh, I can't," said Rouran. She stood up, rubbing her temples. "I just want to forget for a few hours. Move."

She tapped his thigh, and Yvain hopped upright, moving away. Rouran pulled open a drawer, removing a bottle of brown liquor and a couple of small glasses.

"Lord Ked always kept this for rewarding himself," she said. She placed the glasses down on the desk and poured some dragonwater into each one. She closed the drawer with her hip and held a glass out to Yvain before taking one herself.

"To the Exarch's first week," said Yvain, raising his glass. Rouran smiled at him and held her glass up.

"To the Exarch's second week," she said. "May it go better than the first."

Yvain laughed his pleasant laugh, then clinked his glass on hers. They each regarded each other carefully as they drank.

"What's in the Exarch's second week?" he asked.

"Oh, nothing but endless work. I will have to receive a delegation from the Lord-Mayor in Coulain, since apparently all trade agreements Coulain makes are made directly with the Exarch, not with the city itself. Something about the way they revere people over places in Coulain. Then I have to prepare the city for a royal visit from Princess Fione, because it's apparently tradition that the Joian ruler visits Tia Vashil when there's a new Exarch to give their blessing."

"Did you ever meet Princess Fione when she was staying in Tia Vashil?"

"I saw her from afar during her and Jin's wedding, but I haven't met her, no. And there will be something new, because wherever Fione goes, the Dragon Clan under Chief Aren goes. So that'll be a powder keg waiting to happen, the city full of Dragon Clan warriors, just after a war and now a rebellion."

Yvain was grinning at her and she cocked her head.

"What?" she asked.

"You don't hate this, you love it," he said.

"I—" she began, readying her objection. That he was once again presuming to speak her mind when he did not know. But it died on her tongue.

"I do," she said, after a moment. "I really do."

Her glass was empty, she didn't remember drinking so quickly, and she poured herself some more.

"Top you up?" she asked. Yvain had not finished his, but he held his glass out all the same for Rouran to fill back to the top and then set the bottle back in its drawer.

He took a careful sip, which meant that he was caught a little off guard when he took his lips away to discover that Rouran had downed her glass in a moment, then stepped towards him, her face drawing close to his.

Rouran grinned when she saw the surprise, then giggled when he all but threw his glass to the table, one hand wrapping around her waist, pulling her to him. She framed his face with her hands, kissing him hard, as though she couldn't stand another moment parted from his lips. His hands gripped her buttocks and she half leapt, half was pulled up into the air, her legs tightening around Yvain's hips. He held her for a brief moment before turning and setting her on the desk, his lips kissing down her neck, making her moan and gasp.

She helped him out of his lamellar, then undid the laces on his undershirt. Her own undressing was far simpler—Yvain simply hiked the hem of her dress up to her waist, then kept pulling, until she was wearing nothing but her boots, a wide necklace she'd been given by Lady Trali and the Exarch's diadem.

Yvain pulled her back up onto the desk, burying his head in her breasts, kissing the soft skin, his tongue teasing around her nipples. It made it difficult for her to find his cock, but she eventually parted him from his sword belt and trousers, drawing him up, finding him hard and hot in the palm of her hand. She pushed her thighs apart, her knees tucking under his armpits, guiding him into her.

"Oh Vash, fuck yes!" she screamed as Yvain felt what she was doing and slid into her to the hilt on the first thrust. His hand flew to her mouth to muffle her.

Rouran slapped him hard across the cheek and his hand came off her mouth as he looked at her in complete shock.

"I'm the Exarch," she said. "There's no one to catch us, because all the Guards out there report to me. You report to me. Don't put your hand on my mouth unless I tell you to."

Yvain's jaw set, and for a moment she worried if she'd pushed him too far, and then, slowly in his eyes, she saw him catching on, light pouring into his eyes.

"As you wish, Exarch," he said.

She lay down on the desk, her back arching softly as she felt Yvain's heavy cock inside her, rubbing into every sensitive spot she could imagine.

"Good. Now," she said. "Fuck your Exarch."

As if Yvain had needed any further direction. He plunged into her, grunting, his hard stare making her shudder as she looked up from the surface of the desk. Rouran couldn't put her finger on what about it had made the opportunity to do such a thing so enticing. Being able to order Yvain around, to have him fuck her as she wished was one thing, and the maybe faint hint of resentment she got from him, the sense that he didn't appreciate being ordered about on her whims, but he was doing it anyway because she was the Exarch...it was exhilarating. As, too, was the sense that she could put down her burdens for a moment and just let the feeling of Yvain's thick cock plunging in and out of her body wash over her.

"Oh, fuck, yes, harder," she gasped.

On the order to go harder, Yvain pulled one of Rouran's legs over, twisting her onto her side, then lifted her legs up so she was entirely tucked on the desk. He ripped her boots off her feet, tossing them into a corner of the room, so that he could hold both her ankles down together better.

"Oh, hells and dragon's bells!" she screamed as Yvain began to pound her in this new position. He reached forward and cupped one of her bouncing breasts, leaning forward to suck on it.

"Fuck!" cried Rouran again. When he finished with her breast, she was sure to pull his head in and kiss him, even while he railed her against the desk.

Yvain grunted, one hand on the far side of the desktop, bracing him so he could thrust into her hard, the other gripping her waist tightly, the fingers digging into her buttocks. She could feel the stubble on his cheeks in her palms as she squeezed his face to hers, her tongue pushing into his mouth, his tongue fighting with it.

He broke their embrace, pulling out of her, leaving Rouran swearing at the emptiness. His hands grabbed at her body, insistent, strong, roaming her skin, before he flipped her onto her stomach, her legs falling off the desk until her toes were on the floor, the necklace Lady Trali had given her flinging out next to her head. He gathered up her hands, pressing them up over her head. She glanced up at him, turning her head to do so, lifting her chin so that she could kiss at the back of his thumb that held her wrists in place.

Yvain was adjusting himself with one free hand, and she screamed out loud as he found her a sheath for his sword, struggling somewhat in his grip. His hand pushed down on her waist, just behind her buttocks, making her groan again as he began to build his pace.

"Harder," she moaned. "Oh, please, Vash damn it, fuck me harder than that, Yvain."

His next thrust made the wood of the desk creak and the floor moan as it scuffed slightly forward.

"Vash! Fuck! Like that!" she gasped.

Yvain began to let her have it, a wreckless, breakneck pace that she could hear him struggle with, his breath coming hard in time with his thrusts. He let go of her wrists, and she grabbed the edge of the desk to keep herself positioned. His hand dug into her ass, his thumbs pressing into the cleft at her spine, helping to keep her still. She let the pleasure of it wash over her, letting herself live solely in that moment, the weight coming off her shoulders, even if Yvain's weight on her did not.

She slipped a hand down between her legs, her fingers rubbing small circles over her clit, feeling every time when Yvain's balls struck them on his thrust.

She could feel her sergeant flagging, the relentless pace she'd set for him beginning to grind him down, and she became fearful that she'd exhaust him before the fun was truly to begin.

"Hold on," she gasped. Yvain ceased his movement, still buried to the hilt. She could feel his cock throb as she used one hand on his thigh to shuffle him back, his cock slipping out of her.

She rolled onto her back again, looking up at him. His hair was matted to his forehead, his chest pumping in and out, but he stared eagerly down at her all the same. She smiled at him, lifting her legs, thrilling when he took his hands to help guide her left foot in front of his face and past his right shoulder to his waist, where she locked her knee around his hip.

Rouran reached down and took hold of his cock, guiding him to the lips of her pussy, but holding him just at the entrance, the bulbous head teasing her. She stared up at Yvain, his eyes alight, watching her intently, and she began to stroke his shaft in gentle, twisting strokes. She kept her motion so soft that eventually Yvain's hips were following her hand as she drew up his shaft, trying to slip inside her deeper, but she shifted to prevent him.