by M. D. Grimm
It was late at night, and I could vaguely hear the thunder as I walked out of the tapestry room and down the hallway.
In some ways, I felt the way I had before Aishe entered my life -- angry, hateful, rebellious. I wanted to defeat Dyrc and Nanna the way I had Kayl, but that would be incredibly stupid on my part. If I killed Nanna and Dyrc I would be declaring war, and then the Council would come crashing down on my head, breaking me apart. No -- I had to handle this another way. Somehow.
I didn’t focus on where I walked and soon found myself standing in front of the invisible door that led up the long, winding stairs to where I kept the Stones of Power in my possession. I walked through the door and up the stairs. My heart was heavy, like a large invisible stone was weighing it down, and I still felt ill. Physically, spiritually. I reached the top of the stairs and confronted the large slab of magickal stone that blocked the entrance to the room beyond. I placed my right hand on the slab and forced myself to focus, to shut out every other thought. It was hard, it took time, but a mage was nothing without discipline and focus.
I had to challenge myself; I had to find my footing again.
I closed my eyes, and my thoughts emptied, one by one.
I took steady breaths, focusing on the sensation of the air entering my nose, passing down to my lungs, filling them, then leaving the same way it had come. I usually didn’t need this much concentrated focus to perform magick without speaking, but that only proved just how chaotic my mind and will had become. It would be dangerous if I stayed in this state too long. If I allowed myself to spiral down that dark and thorny road of despair and self-pity.
While I still felt ill and exhausted, my limbs heavy, I managed to focus my mind and thought a word of magick.
I opened my eyes and watched blue ribbons of light spiral down my arm and break off when they hit the stone, spreading over it, turning it into a blue gem. It became translucent, and a small, intimate room could be seen beyond. Then I set my left hand on the slab and thought another word, concentrating on my steady breath. Red ribbons of light spiraled down my other arm. When the lights connected, they turned the stone purple, and a few seconds later, it vanished all together.
I walked through the opening and soon stood next to a small, elegantly carved pedestal. It was the only thing in the circular room, no windows or decorations. This room was my vault. On the pedestal lay six glittering stones of power.
Two of them were major stones; the rest were minor. There were several different versions to the story about why the first mages created them. The one I favored because it was the one that made the most sense, was that they did it to help the Mother fight monsters called the formoryans.
The creatures in that song the bard had sung about. The stones were created to give to other lesser-magickally inclined creatures, which helped sway the battle in the Mother’s favor. But, of course, then those stones’ powers were abused, and the mages took them away and hid them, unable to destroy them. Why, I couldn’t tell you.
I hated them. Passionately. They gave power to anyone and anything. Only desire was needed. No discipline, no control, no knowledge of balance. I was a mage. A true mage. I had been taught to discipline myself, to only use magick when necessary. I understood the balance needed -- the balance between desire, will, and moderation. Master Ulezander had drilled that into me every day I was with him. I was born with the magick of the Mother inside me -- I had a right to it. Anyone who picked up these stones did not. They hadn’t earned the power the stones gave.
I couldn’t allow Rambujek, a major stone of power and a ruby full of such malice and war mongering, to fall into the hands of the Council. I didn’t trust any of them. I clearly remembered the towns that Kayl had destroyed once he took possession of Rambujek. And I would never forget the pain he’d caused Aishe. The devastation he’d brought on my dialen. My mate. This stone was the reason Aishe’s tribe had been destroyed. I couldn’t just give it up without a fight, could I?
I listened to the stones’ voices and felt proud that I could resist them, though the temptation to take them up and use them was strong. Their promises, their gleeful and wicked promises tempted me, tried to seduce me. I listened, I couldn’t stop myself, but I put up a mental wall between them and me. It was quite likely that if I hadn’t been aware of my destiny that I would fall prey to them. But I did know, and I feared it above all things. If I gave up the fight, allowed my wall to crumble, I would use them and become the Destroyer. I would fail and lose control myself -- what made me, me. The results and consequences of such actions weren’t something I wanted to confront.
A purple dome of light covered the stones. It was a complicated bit of magick that would blow up if someone tried to tamper with it. It would also transport the stones to different places around Karishian, hopefully keeping them hidden until the end of the world. I had woven several different spells together and carved the pedestal out of rock crystal, which made it act like a large battery.
I knelt and touched the pedestal with my hands, gripping the base firmly. Magick flowed out of me in gentle waves, becoming trapped inside the crystal, charging the enchantment, lengthening its life. I stood up and shook my head at the stones. This, I was good at. Control, will, and desire, the three things that made up magick: desire to see the result of magick, the will to make it happen, and the control to limit the first two. I was good at magick -- magick in all its wonder and intricacies. It was everything else in my life I sucked at.
Glaring at the stones one last time, I swung around and left the room. The stone reappeared, and the door became invisible once more the moment I stepped into the hallway.
I walked away, but so intent was I on my thoughts that I slammed into Aishe as he rounded a corner. We stumbled away from each other, and Aishe eyed me warily.
“Have you calmed down?” He looked at my hands. I grunted. I felt awkward and didn’t look at him. The silence was thick between us before Aishe spoke.
“I’m sorry, Morgorth.”
I jerked my head around to look at him, surprised. He was apologizing to me? Aishe fidgeted and didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands. He finally crossed his arms over his chest and looked at a spot over my left shoulder.
“You were right when you said I didn’t know what it’s like to be you. I haven’t a clue.” I opened my mouth, but he cut me off. “And I promise to not seek out Dyrc and Nanna on my own. I will either stay in Geheimnis or only venture outside with you until they leave.”
Some of the weight lifted off my shoulders at his words.
Some part of me calmed. Breathed.
“Thank you,” I said quietly. He nodded. Then he started to walk away, but I grabbed his arm. His muscles were tense under my hand, and I detested the anger between us.
“Wait a moment,” I asked. He stood still but stared at the opposite wall. I let him go. I cleared my throat. “I’m still trying to get used to this, you know.”
“Used to what?” he asked.
“Us,” I answered. “I don’t know how to share a life with someone, Aishe. And those mages... by the Mother, I never wanted you to meet any of them.”
Aishe turned fully toward me. He tilted his head slightly, his soft hair falling over his shoulder. “You never wanted me to meet other mages?”
I nodded. “I knew the poisonous words they’d fling at me, and I didn’t want to expose you to that. I don’t want -- hell, I don’t want you to think differently about me.”
Uncomfortable, I clenched and unclenched my hands, turning away from Aishe and staring at a painting I had done years ago. It was of a small forest farther east from my territory. The trees had been sparse, but the flowers had been bright and joyous. I’d been in a strange mood when I’d sat there in the grass and tried to capture the vibrancy of the colors.
“Why would I think differently about you?” Aishe asked from behind me.
“I feared that you would see me through their eyes,”
I whispered, real
izing just then how much that fear had fueled my anger. “That you would believe in my destiny and imagine the monster I will become.”
“Might become,” Aishe said firmly, and I closed my eyes. “And I will admit, Morgorth, for a moment, I did see you the way they saw you.”
The weight that had so recently lifted, fell once more on my shoulders. I stood straighter and felt my magick churn in my stomach. “I see.”
“And it scared me,” Aishe continued. “Their hatred toward you scared me. Especially Dyrc’s. I had to wonder what you’d done to earn such malice. But you haven’t done anything. You’re not a monster.”
“You don’t know what I am. What I’ve done.” My voice was hollow. “Maybe if you did...”
If he did, would he leave?
Aishe suddenly gripped my upper arms, tightly. He pressed his forehead against the back of my neck.
“I need you to talk to me, my love,” he whispered. “You must talk to me and know that I will not judge you. I will never understand if you do not speak, if you don’t find the words to make me understand.” He paused. “But even if you can never explain fully what it is like to be you, know that love does not have to understand, it just has to be. They can say whatever they want about you, but I know that my place is by your side.”
And the weight was gone once more.
“Monster or not.” Aishe’s voice trembled. “Destiny or not, my home is here with you. My fate is linked with yours. Whatever that will be.”
My eyes burned, and my face was wet. I lifted a hand and roughly wiped away my tears. I couldn’t fathom his loyalty for me.
“And if I told you to go?” I whispered. “If I told you that you would be safer as far away from me as you could get?”
His grip tightened further, cutting off the blood flow to my hands.
“If you banished me, I would die.” His voice was faint, agonized, trembling. “Please don’t let me go, Morgorth. Let me stay, I beg you.”
“Don’t.” I finally turned around to see that he was crying as well. “Don’t beg. Warriors like you don’t beg.”
Aishe smiled slightly and wiped away his own tears. He cupped my face, and I gripped his wrists.
“You really deserve someone better,” I said.
“And yet I chose you,” he said. “What is wrong with me?”
“Where do I start?”
He laughed slightly, and most of the tension was broken.
But there were still things left unsaid. Most of my past was still unknown to him, and I wasn’t ready to tell him everything. I wasn’t ready for him to know all the dark things I had done. At that moment, I just wanted to hold him, kiss him. I wanted to recapture the time after Kayl and before the mages. That time of bliss.
I leaned forward and rose up on my toes, pressing my lips to his. Aishe immediately opened his mouth, inviting more, demanding more. His hands slipped around my waist, and one gripped my ass. I tangled my hands in his hair, tugging slightly at the soft strands. He groaned and pushed his tongue inside my mouth. I eagerly accepted him, and my tongue played with his.
Aishe suddenly shoved me up against the wall, and I broke the kiss, gasping for breath.
“Bedroom, come on.” I managed to break his hold and grabbed his hand. We ran to our bedroom, and Aishe shoved the door open. We ripped at each other’s clothes, desperate, as if it was our last chance. We kept getting in each other’s way, however, and decided to deal with our own respective clothing.
We soon tumbled onto the bed and rolled over the large mattress, wrestling, becoming sweaty. Aishe had more physical strength than I did, but I used my magick in short bursts to shove him underneath me. He laughed, his wonderful eyes bright, and I knew he relished the challenge.
He wasn’t the first lover I’ve had, but he was the first intimate partner I’ve had. I’ve had sex before, but I’ve never made love until him. Aishe managed to shove and keep me underneath him, so I wrapped my legs around his waist, pressing our groins together. Aishe shivered and pushed closer to me, his tongue invading my mouth. I opened to him eagerly, and we rolled over the bed, bucking against each other, growing more excited every second.
Aishe’s touches were rough, and I enjoyed them, relished them. I was soon underneath him again, and his strong hands grabbed my wrists and held them down as his mouth sucked at my neck.
I moaned and lifted my hips, desperately needing more contact. He lay down on top of me, and my legs tightened around his waist. His complete possession of me was always overwhelming, but now it was more so -- because now I knew he had a little kernel of fear, of doubt, that made him wonder if I would become the Destroyer of Karishian. And yet he was still here, with me, making love.
He touched me, wanted me. He made me able to let go of my own gnawing doubt and go beyond my problems, my worries, and just be.
“Can I?” He murmured against my ear.
I knew what he was asking. I nodded.
Aishe reached over and lifted the lid of a small trunk at the side of the bed and pulled out a bottle of lube. He poured a generous amount into his hand and slicked his erection. I watched hungrily, enchanted by the look of him, the strength and loyalty he gave me. He poured more in his hand and reached between my legs, touching gently.
I spread my legs farther, gripping the blankets. My eyes closed when he slipped a finger inside me. My own erection became harder, and my magick bubbled fiercely inside me, making my insides burn.
“Open your eyes,” Aishe murmured, and I did, staring into his. “I love watching your eyes glow.”
I smiled. My eyes tended to glow when my magick rose and simmered just under the surface. Aishe leaned over me, now having three fingers inside me, moving, slipping in and out. I gripped his shoulders and kissed him, relishing my ability to trust him, to give everything to him. He took it all, greedily, demanding more.
But he did give back to me -- more than I thought anyone could.
Aishe’s fingers left me, and a low moan escaped me when he pushed inside. The sensation of becoming one with him was constantly overwhelming. I pulled him against me, and he moved slowly, sensually, drawing out the pleasure, making it last. I lifted my legs higher toward my chest, giving him more access. He took the invitation and started to thrust harder.
Raising on his elbows, Aishe stared down at me, and the only thing I saw in his eyes was love. My heart, which I’d cursed as I stood in the storm, wept for Aishe, for our union. I’d never seen such love in someone’s eyes as they looked at me. I’d seen it in others’ as they looked at someone else, and I’d been envious even though I never admitted it. But now I had it, and I desperately wanted to keep it.
I was begging for release by the time Aishe finally pushed me over the edge. My magick flashed inside me, and I shouted my lover’s name quite unconsciously. But it seemed to please him because he nuzzled my neck after his orgasm diminished, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get off me. I managed to lift my arms and wrap them around his back, my fingers passing over the long scar that cut diagonally across his back.
I had my own scars -- ones he was now stroking with his fingertips. My body was a roadmap of tortures I had endured: scars from whippings, knives, and any other sharp object my father managed to lay his hands on. There were also burns from his pipe and a brand from a poker on my ass. I hated my scars, and if there was a permanent way to get rid of them, I would do it without hesitation. But Aishe seemed to like them; he said they illustrated my strength and will.
They just reminded me of the horrors of my past.
Aishe eventually slipped off me but curled up at my side, his arm and leg thrown over me. I smiled and looked at him in the dark, as the storm continued to rage outside. He was the most precious thing in my life, and the mere thought of something happening to him made the darkness inside me rise with a vengeance. I stamped it down and turned my thoughts elsewhere.
How was I going to get those mages to leave us in peace?
***
I sighed and closed my eyes.
“I don’t like seeing you hurting,” Aishe said suddenly.
The thunder was still right above us, and I jerked when it bellowed. I knew the gargoyles were safely sheltered in their tower nests, and the boygles would be in the warm caves I’d carved out especially for them.
“I’m not hurting,” I said.
“Yes, you are,” he insisted. “Their words have hurt you.
Your entire life.”
I sighed again and opened my eyes. I took a deep breath and Aishe’s woodsy and musky scent filled my nose. It calmed me. His head was on my shoulder, and his arm and leg were still thrown across my body. I had slept little after we’d made love, my mind unable to settle. Aishe’s deep breathing had comforted me, but sleep had been elusive.
“They could be right, you know,” I whispered. “They could be right about me.”
“They’re not,” Aishe said firmly. His arm tightened around me. “Morgorth, you don’t kill because you enjoy it.
You’re not bloodthirsty. I know you.”
I turned my head to look at him. He stared deeply into my eyes, his own green fire.
“You have compassion, Morgorth. You don’t show it because you think it’s a weakness. But it isn’t. It’s the biggest weapon you have against your so-called destiny.”
Was there any wonder why I was so enraptured by him?
Was there any wonder why I thought he was the greatest blessing the Mother could have ever bestowed upon me?
His complete faith in me, despite his own misgivings, the mages’ words, and despite my own warnings, was mind-boggling. And heartening.
And it was time to share something with Aishe that I kept hidden for reasons I didn’t even know.
