Worthless [cw]

Description:  cw: weird probably sex 

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Worthless [cw]
« on: June 10, 2019, 05:57:54 PM »

”What did you do, raid a nursery?” Pella had a basket of laundry on her hip. Sheets fresh off the line and wadded into bundles for delivery to their respective beds. Just in time too, the horizon darkening with coming rain. Pella wasn’t looking at the sky, however, eyes on the girl walking the shore of their cove. Toes pointing to the surf as she plucked seashells or whatever else caught her fancy from the sand.

Pella could taste her incompleteness on the air like the promise of rain. Jewels just a whisper in the Abyss, vulnerability frothing along her barriers like the waves at her feet. Frowning, Pella tucked away her probes and turned to Emile. What had he done now?! Frustrated, she took the basket in both hands and shoved it into his chest. It wasn’t that there would be another wife, and that the girl - the child! - was meant to be wife, Pella had no doubt.

”She doesn’t belong here.” It was the lightness of her Jewels. And her age. Just a girl! She could have slapped him. Wanted to slap him, and watch hurt and temper war in his face when she did it. But it wasn’t the time. Too many eyes to watch them. ”Mother Night, Emile, do you have a brain at all?” He never thought! Just did as pleased him without a care for anyone else. Storm-energy made her dark hair crackle and cling.

”A Tiger Eye. No one will ever respect her. They’ll assume she’s a slave and cause all sorts of problems.” Laughter jerked Pella’s eyes away. Scowling, she gripped the basket edge and jammed it into his chest again. ”Why must you always be so careless?” Tiger Eye child! Giggling at sea birds! ”Give me the damn basket!” Pella snapped, as if he were trying to steal it from her. She yanked, annoyance making her body want to move. Better to put the energy to work than beating Emile to death with a basket.



Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #1 on: June 10, 2019, 08:36:14 PM »
Head tipping down Emile looked at the worn tips of his boots. They would last him another season despite their deep pits. Most of his time was spent on the beach or in the water. Barefoot, rather than walking the tread off the hard soles. ”No hello or anything? Straight into the scolding.” He sighed. All the heaviness in his heart returning at the sound of Pella’s voice. Stomach an aching ball at his center made half of hunger and half of well learned anxiety.

She never pretended to be happy to see him when he came home. Not even when he had been weeks gone on violent raids. Though she sometimes slipped into his room after so long apart to do her strange brand of lovemaking. Fulfilling her own desires with an aggressive speed, keeping him from finding his own relief in the act. Then feigning disappointment at his impotence. Every twist of her hips and rock of her pelvis designed to punish him in pleasure and make it all his own fault. For now the only punishment was the hard wicker edge of the laundry basket clipping into his chest.

Arms spanning the bottom he held it for her, body tipping towards the house where they could have her temper out where Nora would not notice. ”Pellaaaa,” His voice was low and dark in quiet warning. Gravel rich in the valley’s of his throat. Promising that she had mistepped and needed to fall back. She did so quickly. Aiming her malice at her husband instead. But only for a moment. Giving him no time at all to confirm or deny the presence of a brain in his head before she was berating Nora once more.

Standing tall he schooled the emotion out of his face. Everything was a weapon to his angry little woman. If she so much as scented his temper she would nag at the point until it spilled over. Leaving him with regrets, and Pella with the mark of his hand on her asscheek. ”The Tiger Eye is only her birthright. You’re a priestess, what are the odds she will reach less than the Rose at her Offering?” Was it jealousy? Muscles twitching with curiosity he passed a gentle probe along her psyche. Pressing without invading, gathering no real answers at all. Pella’s heart was too frantic with thoughts and her barriers too well sealed. ”Besides, how is her being considered a slave going to cause us any problems? You’re overreacting.” He corrected, words fractured by the jolt of the basket as it crashed into him again.

Frustration made his feet shift and his lips pucker into a thin line. ”Why don’t you tell me what the real problem is? I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.” It couldn’t simply be that he brought another woman home. She had been far less upset on the last occasion. He couldn't help the softening of his edges at the distant sound of Nora’s laughter. It pleased his heart too much. He only spared her a short glance, however. That too would be a weapon to Pella. ”No. I’ll carry it.” He insisted, holding the basket tight when she tried to pull it away. ”Go. Into the house where we can sit and talk like civilized people.”

He did not lead the way, but ushered from behind. Shifting the basket under one arm and slipping a private psychic thread to the newest addition. Just a little more time to get things ready. Then he would take her to see all of her new home. In the house he laid the laundry basket on the kitchen table. Hands quick in their capture as he reached for Pella. If he could not speak to her sense, or her emotion, then he would speak to the priestess. But he tried all three for caution's sake. ”I missed you. And I’m sorry you’re not happy. Give her a chance, she’s young just as you noted. She couldn't stay out there all alone, severed from her rookery with no way back. The Tigers were trying to kill her right in front of me. Of all the coast for her to wash up on. Tell me that wasn’t the design of Mother Night.”

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #2 on: June 10, 2019, 09:35:14 PM »

He studied his feet. Eyes cast away from her as he complained. Whining because he hasn’t gotten the greeting he always expected. Assuming with each trip that she would have forgive him upon his return and changed into someone else. This separation was no different than all the others, and when Pella saw him, the urge to punish was rekindled. Helpfully, he had done something in need of it. Scoffing at the idea, Pella shook her head. ”Welcome home, oh great Emile. Kidnapper of girls.”

Not a even a grunt as she slammed the basket into his chest. Just his arms circling the bottom so he could hold it for her. Leaning in as if he would swoop her and the blanket off to the house. ”Emiiiile.” She whined in mockery of him. The high pitched sing song of her voice the opposite of his deep chested warning. Pella relented, insulting Emile rather than the girl. It wasn’t the child’s fault Emile had dragged her home with him. Collecting women the way the girl collected shells.

He postured. Pella frowned, turning her face from him. ”The Rose is hardly any better.” Her Opal only passing fair. They’d had doubts about her until her Birthright, doubts that weren’t fully soothed by her Summer-sky. But her caste was potent. ”Because you won’t treat her as a slave.” Which would cast suspicion on them. Back straightening, Pella hardened her barriers against his prodding. Rude, invasive jackass! Striking him with the basket helped. And Emile took it so well. Holding the damn thing like a gift.

”I’m not overreacting. You brought a child home, Emile. Obviously her training isn’t complete, her strength secured. She is a liability.” And prey to anyone with a mind for it. Ile de Paon. The birds and men screamed like murders. The men were murders in earnest. And greedy. Emile did not understand, being one of those males. Instead he fought her over the basket. Forcing her to fling her weight against his and come up empty handed. ”We’re not civilized people.” She reminded him while going as she was bid.

Pella knew when she was beaten, and strength to strength, Emile won. He kept her basket and used it to shimmy her up to the house and throat the door. His broad body deterring escape attempts as it filled the doorway. Basket set on the table, Emile reach for her. Pella should have known better or been more prepare. ”Let go!” She hissed, writhing in his arms like a serpent. He never listened though. Not about foolish choices in women or when to lay hands on people.

He petted and soothed. Trying to reel her in any way he could. Pella withstood it. Body erect and still whatever his fingers and lips said, trying to pluck at her heartstrings. ”Maybe you were meant to return her to her people. That is what most do with children then find.” Jaw set, Pella kept her face turned away, but stopped fighting against his hold.

”She could expose us.” Pella complained. Missed her! Was sorry! He said the same thing all the time, but he never did anything to make her new life easier. Like apologize for ruining her old one and letting her family possibly all die.

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #3 on: June 11, 2019, 12:43:28 AM »
Inhaling a deep breath to try calming himself Emile let his eyes roll. She cut and she cut and she cut at him until he lost his temper. Then smelled like glee while she pouted from his return punishments. Maddening woman. Calling him names and mocking him despite her persistent argument that he was not more than an idiot child. ”The Rose is plenty- and she could reach all the way the Purple Dusk.” His gaze shifted to Nora on the shore for a moment. Turning a pretty shell over in her hands with bright interest. Happy to be here, thankful to be with Emile. 

It reminded him that he wanted this to work. For Pella to be kind to Nora so that he could enjoy her fully. Without worrying that he had saved her only to live in the same half agony of his own heart. Walking on eggshells to keep from rousing Pella’s notice or temper. ”Of course we won’t. She is not a slave. She one of the rookery now. Plenty of men have favorite slave mistresses, Captain Nazaire has a new one each week. No one is going to bat an eye- you just want a reason to fuss.” There was an attempt to force finality on the subject in his tone, but Emile was sure there would be more argument anyway. Color darkened Pella’s throat as she drew up to her full height. Stiff and stern eyed against his probes.

”Yes you are!” He argued. Voice carrying on the wind so that he lowered it again to defend his choice in keeping Nora. ”She is young, but she is not a child. That’s all the more reason she needs us, though, not less. We can train her and protect her- she has a big heart ready to love us all.” How could Pella not understand? She had lead people. She could lead them now, if she wished, but instead she needled and picked at old wounds. Things that Emile would not change even if he could. Because Pella was his the same as the rest. His responsibility, and his burden if that was what she chose to make of herself. ”Well then go in the house because I’m the man and I said so.” He barked in annoyance.

She did so, walking up the tidy path. His fingertips on the small of her back as they mounted the stairs before they fell away once they reached the wide front deck. In the frame of the doorway he looked over his shoulder to see how far down the crescent beach Nora had wandered. Looking only safe because he blocked Pella’s only exit. Instead of giving her time to make excuses to run off- or worse think of more ugly words- Emile wrapped her in a tight embrace. For a moment she fought him, which he expected. But she knew by now that until he had his fill she would not get away. Once she quieted he spoke in soothing tones. Trying to crack the emotional shields she erected against him and his new woman. ”Pellaaaaa.” She was so infuriating. ”She is not a child, and if her people could protect her then she would not have been swimming into warriors hands to escape an orca pod.”

Leaning his forehead to the hard bones of her skull he sighed into her neck. ”Expose us to who? She knows the Moidyn Varrey law. And the landers know not to try inflicting their rules on us.” He rocked as if their strange embrace was a dance instead of his forced contact. But it helped, having her pressed to his front. Helped him temper his frustration with affection, and the pangs of that affection going to waste with understanding. She was not here because her life had gone the way she dreamed. Pella was sad inside no matter how she tried to hide it, and Emile had to be patient. Decades- centuries perhaps. She might never love him but she would be safe and when she realized she fit into her role so wholly she would stop being so angry about what was lost. Keeping his voice barely a whisper he pried with words since prying her barriers open would only make her hate him more. ”Any of you could have exposed Aramis and I. Yet he never once questioned my need to help. To give you a home. You’re not this angry because Nora is a risk.” What was it really? He tried to guess. Measuring her twitches to see if his words touched on the truth. ”Is it because she is young and reminds you of the other rookery? Or is it just because she’s so attached to me?”

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #4 on: June 11, 2019, 05:20:13 AM »

”I know how far she can descend, you don’t need to school me on the basics.” Pella followed his gaze. Bare feet. Shabby dress. Pella sensed no readiness in the girl. They could talk all day of what she might wear after her Offering, but it made no difference until the girl. Were their ceremonies the same as her ceremonies? Would she struggle when she was ready? Or even be ready? Some became frozen. Unable to move forward because they were arrested by a moment.

”What? Do you want to be Captain Nazaire now, Emile? His wife left him, did you know? She’s living here on Rosnay, alone.” She’d heard about it in the village while helping prepare some children for their Birthrights. Mothers’ clutching webs and praying they were true. A few begging priestesses to prove them wrong. Pella could never be one of those women. She would do as her mother had done, forgo a web and love her child. Tomorrows pain was for tomorrow.

”I am not!” She hissed, bearing her teeth in a smile at the girl who looked toward them. Fingers waving so she would go back to her play and leave the grown ups to talk. ”If she is so precious, will her people not come looking for us?” They had good waters here. And not many to defend them. Emile’s Red could only do so much, even backed by Aramis’ Green. And Pella... Pella was not sure she would help them not to die. The thought of seeing another rookery destroyed weighted heavily on her, however.

”You are hardly a man.” Pella insisted beneath her breath as she marched up to the house, trying to slide away from his fingers. How could he even reach her from around the basket? Infuriating. No worse than the way he blocked her in the house. Pining in the door way before settling his attention on her again. Basket clattering on the table so he could fill his arms with Pella instead. His horrible, needy arms that made her stay when she wanted to go. Too strong to escape, and no where to run if she managed anyway.

”Maybe she is just stupid.” Pella hedged, the flats of her palms running up the undersides of his arms. She glanced through the gauzy curtains on the window. Shape made blurry by the fabric and small by distance. She did not look well kept with her faded dress, it was true. And an untried girl was not meant to swim oceans alone. ”Quit panting on me.” She snapped, leaning away from his hot, sticky breath. There was no where for Pella to go, however, so she turned her face away and tried to block him with her hair.

”You are too cocky by far, Emile. Exposing us to anyone would be bad, it doesn’t matter who. Or even if by accident.” Pella wasn’t sure if it was his youth or caste that made him so stupid. His body was a man’s now, but he seemed no different than when he’d first broke into her life. Paired with another youngster she feared the trouble they would end up in. Mother Night he was rocking her again. Rolling her eyes, Pella let him have her head on his shoulder, but did not relax into him and his damned swaying.

”That is because Aramis coddles you.” Pella wished he wouldn’t, but she never spoke against it. She knew that was a line to never be crossed. To use them against each other she had to be subtle. Carefully holding one higher than the other. Her affection turned to Aramis because it pleased her and tormented Emile. But if she were bold in it, it would not bode well for her. They were brothers first and husbands second. Pella’s hands became fists at the base of his shoulders. ”Do not speak of those you left to die, Emile, don’t you dare.”

The other rookery! Her rookery! Her friends and people! They meant nothing to Emile and everything to Pella. Well. She would show him how it felt to have someone so completely disregard the people you loved. ”Is she attached, though, Emile? Or just desperate not to be abandoned again?” Pella gave his shoulder a sympathetic pat. ”Plenty of girls are good at pretending one for the other.” She was curious to see, though, to meet, this Nora. And to casually dismiss her at every turn. To pretend she did not exist, even if it meant she was swept out to sea to die.

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #5 on: June 11, 2019, 09:14:11 PM »
”Stop. Twisting. My. Meaning.” Emile growled. Swallowing down the sound to keep from shouting he freed up one hand to pass it through his hair. Nails blunt as they scraped his scalp. ”He told us all about it on the trip. Lady Nazaire wants to establish her Jewel web reputation on her own two feet, without his influence fueling her clients opinions. She wanted somewhere private to work. It’s very admirable. How the captain stomached having his wife so far away so often Emile couldn’t even guess, it upset his own indigestion too much to think on. Perhaps when you raided with regularity it became easier to leave. He hoped never to find out. ”My point was that he lives under heavy scrutiny and no one cares he keeps slaves for mistresses. Why would they care here, about us?”

What had she done to keep her former rookery isolated from the very same troubles? He was sure a word with Mother Priestess and a generous donation would sweep the whole thing under the rug if it really came to such. If more was needed then he would stand at the lash for them. They were worth it. Each one spiteful wives and giggling seashell collectors alike. First they would have to find them, though.  No maps he had ever seen marked the cove. The forest was all new growth over volcanic ash. Few things worth hunting lived inside, and no one knew the waters were bountiful. So they could hide, they could survive, and they could take to the water and find new shores if need be.

”A week on the open water alone- they would have found her if they were capable of it. She is ours now. They don’t deserve her.” That was not the answer she wanted. He never had the answers she wanted, even when they were exactly right. Pella would search high and low for reasons to chastise everything he did or said. Openly berating him as if he really were a child. While it wounded his ego it eased his heart. She would not speak to him so if she didn’t know she could trust him to protect her even from himself. ”And yet you still walk up the stairs.” He huffed lowly.

They had more arguing to do. A softer, quieter sort. Laundry abandoned for affection instead. After a while her hands turned to his arms. She did not agree with him but she disagreed less viciously. That was as close as a person came to victory with Pella. Or at least, as close as Emile ever came. It was his understanding that Aramis had much less trouble finding common ground. Sighing he lifted his nose from her skin. ”I know that. She isn’t going to be around anyone to expose us. Worry when she proves to need worrying over. Don’t judge her before you even know her.” How had anyone let this woman run a rookery? It was no wonder they were all dead.

”If he does, it is with a purpose. Aramis never does anything without a good reason. And he raised me, so whatever flaws you are judging were laid there by that man’s hand.” He reminded her. He was not done on the subject, or on the subject of her former lovers and friends either. While Pella went tense he went soft. Thinking while she tried to lay out an emotional trap. His eyes lowered. A pain shooting through his heart. Not one that made him question Nora, but one that made him angry with Pella. ”Stoop any lower and you’ll get stuck in the sand, wife.”

He let her go. Just to catch her around the jaw with both hands. They all had beautiful eyes. The subtle shifts of color. The way their pupils widened and contracted. All the expression hidden behind their barriers written in the tilt of a brow or the sweep of dark lashes. Grip firm he asked, ”If the end result is the same, does it matter if she’s attached or just clinging?” Not to him.

”I know you hurt, for the people left in the water. You loved them. I understand that sentiment better than anyone else. But love isn’t enough. You failed, that happens sometimes. I can see why, though. Look at how you live. Bringing people down instead of lifting them up. If someone had seen what was coming, you probably didn’t even listen. So they died.” Which, of course, was all his fault. He didn’t let her go. Hands strong enough to hold her there even if he couldn’t make her look him in the face. Voice a rough whisper he drove his point home. ”You know me, Pella. When have I ever left anyone to die? They were beyond saving, or else I would have tried.”

He hoped she slapped him. So he could get angry enough to spank her then remorseful enough to put her to bed. Nora’s tour could wait. She could come to bed with them later, when he had emptied his frustration. Either into his angry, angry wife or into the good towels she hung in every bathroom. He cared very much which but didn’t have much in the way of choices.

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #6 on: June 12, 2019, 04:27:36 AM »

A single black eyebrow curved upward. Its arch full of disbelief and mockery. Pella’s lips rolled over each other, bitten between her teeth to keep from laughing. Not to spare Emile’s feelings, because it was quite easy to tell she was laughing at him, but to not draw attention. The same way he did not shout for wanting to. Her shake her out of frustration. In the open, any eyes could see. Emile wanted to impress his new woman - who was really a child - and Pella did not want to spark Aramis’ ire.

Not when she was causing Emile such annoyance.

”You are no prince Nazaire, Emile. Paon loves and trusts him. Who are you to them?” Not much. Probably very little. Certainly he was the right caste and wore the right Jewels, but they lived apart. The people did not know him like they did the Mother’s Raider Captain. They could not know him that way. Not if they wanted to keep their secrets. Pella certainly didn’t want to live under such scrutiny. She fielded enough questions when she went into the outlier villages to help as a priestess ought.

”You say that only because you want her for yourself. Did you even offer her the choice?” He wouldn’t dare. Emile didn’t have the balls. He took because he could not woo. What woman would choose him? Dodging his touch as they made for the house, Pella ignored his huffing. She would not have chosen him. And she did not choose him now. Every ounce of submission aimed to hurt rather than please him. Every touch meant to lull him or curb his temper when she did not wish to feel its bite.

Like now. Hands on his arms so he would take less offense to her doubts against his newest treasure. ”I am not judging her. And I do have a right to worry when what you do jeopardizes my safety.” Pella refused to trust a boy to keep her safe. Emile could have worn the Black and she would have trusted him no more. He did not think before he acted. He did not think at all beyond the bubble of himself. He was vain and selfish, and years of living together had changed nothing in him. He was still a stupid, thoughtless boy. Except now he wore a man’s body and a man’s Jewels.

”Even a mother’s nurturing could not have changed your nature, Emile. Do not pin your short comings on Aramis.” Gentler caste. Gentler Jewels. But Aramis frightened Pella more than Emile. Emile was temper. Quick to ignite and just as quick to settle. She knew what to expect of the younger brother. Aramis was harder to understand, so Pella clung harder to him. Nestling the pit of fear he planted in her belly as close to him as possible. ”Better than being stuck with you.” She bit out, gasping through her teeth as he caught her jaw.

A moment of freedom suspended by hands at either side of her face. Pella was still. Hands claws near her belly. ”There is a world of difference. But you’ll never know it.” No one could ever love him. Eyes dark with loathing, she stared at him. Pulling the pain of his words deep inside so he could not see the way they cut her open and pulled her still beating heart from her chest. Lies. He spoke lies, every word of it. There had been no warning. And she had only failed because he had not let her try.

Nails biting into his wrists, Pella tried to pry his hands from her face. Back arching as she pulled away from him. He was a monster and she hated him with every fiber of her being. ”Let me go, you beastly little fuck.” He’d always been too strong. She’d found him then, when he’d been just a boy, and he’d been too strong. Not it was like trying to press a tree to the earth with her bare hands. Snarling, Pella drove a knee toward his groin, stepping into him when pulling away didn’t work.

Lashing out with craft when her body was strong enough. A violent burst of Opal aimed for his chest. Surely he couldn’t block both. ”You didn’t try because you have never loved anything but yourself.” She snarled. She had not failed! Pella had done everything in her power to protect them. To guide them and love them and keep them safe. She refused to believe they had all died, swept out to sea on churning red tides.

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #7 on: June 12, 2019, 12:54:52 PM »
Exactly. You only prove my point.” He told her with snarl of his lip, ”They expect more of him than they do me. I am no one to them, they could not care less about what I do.”  This woman! She just wanted to rile his temper. Always, that was her goal. It was frustrating and maddening but he soldiered on because he was strong. She was too weak to punish herself, to vain, and her guilt to heavy to shoulder. So Emile shouldered it like a good husband, that way she didn’t turn that hatred on herself. ”There was no choice to offer! She didn’t know where she came from. She didn’t even know there were rookeries beyond her own! It was leave her to die or take her home.”

Did she even listen when he spoke? Only to the parts relevant to herself, he thought. Everything had to be about Pella. Frowning he leaned into her stroking arms while he had them. Thinking over every word she spoke as the cogs turned and the pieces clicked. He could see now, how it fit together. Her anger, and her worry and Nora. ”You are judging her, you don’t know her to say she will jeopardize anything. It’s not your safety you worry about, though, is it? It’s your little priestess game you play with the Landers… The more we bring in the harder it gets to explain. You will just have to stop going among them and focus on your own people.” What did she tell them of her home life? That she was Aramis’ wife, most likely. Even though she was not even his favorite of them. Tolerated, the same as everyone in his brother’s life. Except for Emile.

Who said they were all just his women when asked by outsiders. ’They are equally mine,’ was answer enough. With his caste and Jewel it only ever earned him a few laughs and hardy pats on the back. As if he had won some great game. ”What do you know about nurture or its effects? I blame nothing on Aramis, he has raised me well. I am respected by everyone I meet except for you- which says more of your shortcomings than mine.”

Their words grew more bitter as their emotions rose higher. Voice clotting with it he brought her nose close to his own. Too slow to bite back his anger, ”Then I can put you there.” He threatened, and the words were almost true. Almost. He wanted them happy, after all, and if she would be happier dead who was he sentence anyone to centuries of misery? Anyone other than himself, at least. It was not always this way, though. His heart remembered. Watching Pella prepare meals, the way a stray lock of her hair would hang in a pretty crescent from temple to ear as she bent over the work. The joy on her face when a Lander child revealed the Jewel she had lead them too and the parents sobbed in happiness for the permission to finally love what they had created. How peaceful she was in sleep when her mouth curved into a rare laugh. The care in her fingertips as she set a perfect seam up torn trousers. Never moments aimed at himself, but moments when she was not unhappy either.

”Then I will never know- but it is not for lack of loving you.” He charged. Emile had never entered into any of his relationships with the belief that they would love him back. He could not control their hearts any more than he could his own. As long as he had the comfort of knowing he had made the right decision in the moment. A moment of life or death for each of them. Moments that Pella did not want to be reminded of. Or to see from any angle but her own.

Clawing and writhing at his hands. They bled as she scratched rivers into the flesh. Years of hunting oysters on the seafloor had hardened him to such simple pains. And years of her name calling had done the same to his heart. His gut lurched in his stomach. A hard knot forming over his groin. A primal sort of pleasure in watching her fight when they both knew she could not win. It made him want to press his hands together, just a little, to see if it frightened her. Since that was the only way to quiet her when she was at her worst. Emile had not yet put together the why of its effectiveness, but his body had. Warmth pooling in his chest and behind his eyes.

He blocked her burst of Craft. The short explosion of her Opal deflected by a bolt of his own. They combined and shot across the room to crack a leg of the table and upset the wooden hutch that housed all their dinnerware. Shards of ceramic plates and bowls rained across the floor. But Emile didn’t see or hear any of it. Knees buckling around the leg that was not caught in time to spare his balls he grabbed Pella by the waist to keep from falling completely to the floor. Instead he dragged her down with him as stars popped in his vision and the rush of his own blood deafened his ears. It was like drowning in ice and being split in half by fire at the same time. Growling he struggled to pin her under him while he panted to get air back in his lungs. ”You ungrateful bitch! What was I supposed to do? The dead were dead, and I wasn’t going to lead the fishmen right to the ones that managed to escape! You were too stupid for the trap they set.” He screamed. Anger fully incited by the pain that still pounded between his legs. Groaning with every move he caught her knee over his thigh, trying to force her to the side so he could bare her ass and punish her properly. Never once noticing that the front door turned to a viewing gallery at his back.

”Morn them, if you have to morn them. Hate me if it keeps you from hating yourself. I don’t care. I don’t care. I. Do. Not. Care.” He yelled, face beside her face. The sound turned to a choked sob and he wished Aramis were on hand to pry him from her before he tried his hands at her throat. ”You will not make Nora feel unwelcome here.”

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #8 on: June 12, 2019, 08:12:44 PM »

”It is my calling, and you cannot force me from it.” Pella would go mad if she could not practice her craft, and there were not enough of them in the cove to fulfill her. No children, either. They needed her guidance, Pella knew that, but what was a handful to an island full of need? She couldn’t breathe trapped here with no freedom or outlet. He was wrong, though. She worried about all of them. Except for Emile.

”They don’t respect you, Emile. They fear you. It is not the same.” There was nothing in him to respect. He was too much of a boy. Too strange a boy, at that. Her short comings! She did not pretend. Pella wore her hate openly, did not hide fear scraping and bowing. And only Emile, idiot that he was, was unable to tell the difference. Hands pinning her. Crushing her jaw between them as he pulled her up toward her toes so that their heights might be more even.

”Do it then. I am not afraid to face the Darkness.” Hell would be better than being his wife. But Pella knew he wouldn’t do it. Emile thought he loved her, like he thought he loved them all. He might hurt her, but he would never dare such a permanent severance. He threatened. She dared. And it never came to pass. Empty threats and hollow promises. She would live to see another sunrise. A chance to make Emile suffer more.

Biting her tongue, Pella refused to be drawn into another argument about love with him. No amount of logic would dissuade him. He believed what he felt was love. But it was no love Pella could recognize. Love would not pinion her, or condemn the people she had loved best in the world. She fought to free herself from his grip. Nails scoring his flesh to no affect. Craft turned aside by his own. The wayward power rocked the table and spilled the hutch holding their dishes. The broken crockery repaid with a strike to the groin. Grunting, Pella jerked her face free of his hands, trying to escape as he collapsed against her.

Twisting, she tried to dodge his weight, but Emile bore her down to the ground with him. His pain made her gleeful. Joy bounding with every throb the shock of contact had settled in her thigh. Dragging her to the floor, Emile wedged himself over her, breathing uneven and temper spiraling as he screamed near her ear. Pella tried to buck him off but he was too heavy, and too strong. Hands pulling at her. ”You know nothing! And have cost me everything, damn you.” She rolled away from him, wet light splashing at the corner of her vision.

Behind him his waif stood in the door. Soggy from the storm that had started while they fought, she stared at them in horror. Teeth bared, Pella let him yank her over his thigh. She knew what he wanted, to beat his temper out on her unprotected ass. ”Of course you don’t! You only care about what pleases you. The rest of us mean nothing.” She kicked him. Fingers pinching to goad him on. Screaming when he set his hands on her. It was a nasty fight. Both of them on the floor trying to out punish each other.

But Pella was sure she had won, by the look of horror on the girl’s face. The pain so very worth the reward. Body buzzing. She slid against Emile’s thigh. Wanting him to stay. To spank her ass until it bruised and then fuck her with the same ferocity. But he never did. Too much of a mewling boy to really fuck a woman. Mother Night, it was tempting to let him try, so the girl could see that too and really know what she was in for.

”I won’t have to, even if that had been my intent.” Pella gasped, panting and battered. She thrust against him, trying to get her ass away from his hand and her cunt closer to his spear. He was fucking useless. And the girl looked ready to cry. ”You’ll do that all on your own.” Pella crooned, a cruel smile in the depths of her eyes. Words punctuated by rapidly retreating steps. 

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #9 on: June 13, 2019, 01:44:28 AM »
”How? How is it my fault they went to their deaths? You put the blame on me so you don’t have to weigh your own soul Priestess. That’s fine. Mother Night knows the truth.” He spat in bristling temper. Oblivious to the why when the pull of his hands was met with less fight and more give. Emile did not just hit her blindly much as his hands ached to do. No, he took the time to shove her skirt out of his way. To choose a spot on the perfect round of her ass where it would sting the worst. Strong hand to tender flesh in an echoing smack. Not an ounce of his strength held back. A perfect imprint of his hand left behind. As angry and red as the man himself.

Cost her everything! She had everything now and the security that it would not swim stupid and blind into a storm! None of her loss was his fault and it was that alone that had helped him stand strong against her affront for twenty years. ”Do you think I would live like this if you were nothing to me?” He growled, face tipping low to hers so he could drive the point into her soul. Or his spear into her body. It was not yet prepared to act. Nestled drowsily between his thighs, still burning from the impact to his testicles. But he had spent days at sea snuggled beside Nora. Wishing for relief that he could not even give himself when she shadowed his every step. For all his trouble he got a hard pinch to the rib. Sharp nails reddening his skin. ”Do you think I enjoy your ire? Your childish rages and pettiness? Why would I do any of that if I didn’t love you? Why would I feed, cloth, and take your abuses?”

She was stubborn and stupid and he wished he coudl hate her even an ounce as much as she hated him. But he was Emile. Tempers like summer storms that rolled onto shore then away on the same breeze. Nothing he did was ever right with Pella. Even when he knew he was giving her what she wanted most. Now she ground her thighs to him like a bitch in heat. Eyelids heavy as she looked at him, then to the door. His eyes followed. ”Nora.” He groaned, instinct driving his angry body at Pella’s responsive one. His spear tried to stir as she rode it’s underside through his loose traveling trousers. In the air between them he could feel the heat of her excitement. Taste it on a probe that he licked around her and between her legs.

”Nora- don’t run off.” He called after her, throwing a glare down at Pella’s wicked smirk. It made his heart ache and his spear’s eagerness died. But not the wanting. With a growl he bound Pella by the hands. Yanking her up over his shoulder as he stood. Carrying her across the shared space of the house into more private corners. His own little used bedroom exposed with a kick to the door. He pushed away the buzzing probes of other family. Setting a warning scent around the room. No one in. This was his space. His prize being tucked away inside. Pella of the strange heats and vicious tongue. Cunt hungry for him when he least expected it, or hurt her worst. Emile would never understand it fully, because he would never correlate fear to pleasure. But he did not have to understand how to use it with purpose. Flinging her onto his bed he chased Nora with gentle strands of his Opal. *Don’t be afraid, darling. It’s wet out, and you don’t know the way around.* Red Craft wove into the binding spell he used on Pella’s hands, trying to lock her to the bedpost before she could get away. *Sit and wait for me, please, I can explain. Please, please don’t be afraid.”*

From the edge of his bed he slid his leather belt from the buckle. Threading through his trouser loops one at a time. Speaking at his first wife without looking up. ”I’m going to be gone for five minutes. To bring Nora in, and set her to a bath. While I’m gone, you can decide how many spankings you deserve for kicking me in the cock. If you don’t pick, then I will.” Folding the long strip in half he hung it on the door handle, only casting her a glance before he closed the door behind him. ”Yes. With that.”

Where was her precious Aramis now? He wouldn’t intervene even if she screamed for him. None of them would. Much the same way they all pretended not to hear the occasional scream when Aramis returned from ‘hunting’.

As soon as the door was between them Emile crouched to his knees. Hands cradling his face as he caught his breath. She was so awful. And so wonderful. And so damnably sexy. With another gasp to steady his temper he followed his Opal out into the rain. ”Nora!” He called, jogging along to find her, a shield pulled up around them to keep off the rain when he did. ”Hey, whale-bait.” Tone soft and playful he gave her a few feet of space. Weight shifting shyly from one foot to another. Face still stained with the evidence of his anger at Pella.

”I know this is new, and strange. Are you scared?" He touched his chest to further the question. Putting in the words he couldn't say with his mouth. Was she scared of him? "Pella is… well, she's complicated. Come inside. Let me show you where you can take a nice warm bath. Eat, or have a nap if you like. I have to finish taking care of her, then we can find a quiet place just the two of us.” He offered her his hand tentatively. Was Pella right? Was it fake or affection? Would the temper of his caste drive her to hate him just as much as Pella?

Pella Labeau

    Summer-sky to Opal
  • Priestess
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    477 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #10 on: June 13, 2019, 05:38:50 PM »

”I blame you for taking me from them.” If they were all doomed, Pella wanted to be doomed with them. Like a captain sinking with his ship. A mother dying over her children. Instead he had forced her to watch the horror from over his shoulder. If she had died in that storm she would have been severed from life, instead he had sundered her from her family. And blamed her for their deaths. Blamed her for her anger.

Dragging her dress up around her hips and laying his blame across her flesh with his hand. Pain bowing her back and curling her toes. Pella kicked against the floor and screamed. Hurt him to make him hurt her more. She didn’t enjoy the pain, but there was satisfaction to be had in the look on Nora’s face. ”Yes! Possessing is enough motive for you.” She hissed, squealing at a second blow. Fear and adrenaline waking the heat in her lower stomach. Hips thrusting away from the sting on her ass and toward Emile.

Rock hard body and limp fucking spear. She hated him so much. He was worthless. Sweating, Pella’s breath snaked through her teeth as she clenched them, unfulfilled desire and pain radiating through her body. ”All things I can provide for myself.” She didn’t need him! She was an accomplished priestess. She didn’t want him either. And he would ruin whatever wanting was in the girl. All it required was time for Nora to open her eyes and see that this was the real Emile.

Violent. Spiteful. He thought he gave everything when he gave nothing. Limp prick pressed between her thighs as if it was useful to her. Pella sneered, trying to roll away from him. Let Emile chase the girl, she would find relief on her own. Emile was having none of it, however, catching her wrists and pinning her to the floor. Bucking, Pella tried kicking free. ”Let me go!” He yanked her up instead, over his shoulder, carrying her across the house to his bedroom. A place she visited him sometimes at night, trying to find relief for her wanting.

He almost always disappointed her. And even when he could rise to the occasion, he didn’t know how to please her properly, leaving all the work to Pella. This time wasn’t about sex. Emile flung her across the mattress, lacing her struggling figure to the bed post with craft. ”Damn you to hell.” She hated his Red. Hated the power that kept her chained to him. Even when he didn’t use it to bind her in place, the threat of it was always present. There would never be an escape. Her only freedom lay in death.

And Pella refused to die for him, even to escape him. Knees drawn to her chest, she watched him with dark, sullen eyes as he pulled his belt from its loops. Threat laid out while he folded it neatly in half and draped it over the door handle. Gut clenching, Pella fought against his craft harder. Too busy trying to work free to snipe at him. She was left alone with her fear. Belt watching, waiting, as she fought uselessly. Emile gone to coddle his child bride.

Nora Dupuis

    Tiger Eye Birthright
  • witch
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    442 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #11 on: June 13, 2019, 06:01:23 PM »

Nora had waited, as he asked. Tip toeing through the surf while Emile did other things. Talking with what Nora assumed was a wife. They had yet to be introduced, Nora having just arrived after the long week on the ship. Cooped up with strange men, unable to slip her skin and see what these new waters held. She was happy to stretch her legs and pick seashells while he talked. Happy to wait when he went inside.

Content until the rain started. And then she was wet and bored. Tired. Hungry. Wet. Soundless lightning lining the clouds and making her nervous. Dress growing heavy as it absorbed the rain water. Hair hanging long and flat as it did the same. Thinking he didn’t realize it was raining, Nora thought it would be okay to go inside and wait out of the rain. She didn’t need to be in the way. She could be patient. Just inside the door couldn’t hurt.

Not like the angry red hand print he left on the woman’s skin. Table askew. Some sort of cabinet knocked sideways. Dishes broken across the floor. Screaming and snarling staining the air as potently and the seeping, psychic sensations. They crept along Nora’s skin, making her shrink into herself and flee. She’d interrupted a private thing. Just inside the door too far to go.

So she went back into the rain. Opal chasing her as she went. Emile spinning a thread between them. Wait. Wait. Shivering, Nora sat, mud sticking to her heels and back of her dress. Rain beating her into the earth. It pooled in her cupped hands, chased the salt of her tears off her skin. It was not as long of a wait this time. Emile came out, but did not come up to her. The rain stopped with his arrival though.

Spilling the handful she’d gathered, Nora wiped her face and looked up at him. He looked angry. Face red and eyes dark. ”Hey.” Her heart thrummed. Nora worried about the dishes. And the woman. And Emile. ”I’m sorry I didn’t wait. I wasn’t trying to interrupt.” It wasn’t something she had wanted to see. She smoothed her dress, as if it could ever be made presentable. Fabric black with rain. Hair the same. It made her skin slip and beaded in her eyebrows and lashes.

Nora blinked the droplets away.

”A little.” She admitted quietly. It was frightening and confusing. Nothing like what she was used to. A home in harmony. Where everyone was family. And no one was family. There were no wives or husbands. Just the rookery. Bodies communal. Possessions communal. She had never been witness to violence between lovers. Maybe it was different with wives. Licking her lips, Nora nodded. ”Okay.”

Hands leaving impressions in the dirt as she pushed herself to her feet. Left trails of mud on her dress as she wiped them off before giving him one. ”All the dishes were broken.” She fretted, following him back to the house. Uncertainty growing the closer they get. ”I can wait out here.” Nora stopped. All the throbbing emotions waiting for her at the door. Her arm grew long between them. ”The sea is right there.” She’d be clean in her other skin, and there were probably fish to eat.

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #12 on: June 13, 2019, 07:51:22 PM »
Heart plummeting from his throat to his toes Emile left plenty of space so that Nora wouldn’t feel crowded. She was crying, and he didn’t know how to help. He knew that his caste was heavy, and his anger potent. Neither were for her to fear. So he spared her as much of both as he could. Voice gentle as he shook his head at her concern. ”No, no I didn’t want you out here in the rain. I needed to be interrupted, I lost my temper. Swallowing too much saliva down he watched quietly as she picked at the wrinkles in her dress. Fabric heavy with water that made it cling to her skin.

He did his best not to notice the fullness of her young breast. Their tips hard little points in the cool, damp air. But he was a warlord prince, and a young man who had been bred by a long line of men that fought then fucked. Both the man and the seal in him. The sex would come, he reminded his body, which was much keener to be near Nora need to be comforted than it was Pella’s wrath. But he would work out that frustration against Pella’s while this wife took her time blooming into womanhood.

”I’m sorry.” He told her, cut by the truth. She was scared. Scared of him. Just a little though, and he was still mostly a stranger. A little might lessen into none with time. With trust. Which she gave him a measure of now with an extended hand. His grip was firm at first, too much emotion brimming in his spirit. Excitement and gratitude making him overeager. Readjusting to something more comfortable he threaded their fingers together so his thumb could stroke the back of her hand. ”Good. Wonderful. Let’s get you out of those wet things.”

As they walked he tried to think of a way to explain it all without casting blame. Without making either Pella or himself seem like a villain or victim. The words revolved in his head, and he licked his lips to try to bring them out. When that didn’t work he tucked the wet strands of Nora’s hair behind her ears. Bodies brushing as they walked up the path until the house stood over them. Then it was a stretch. His arm extended as he walked on and she stopped. The worry in her voice making her seem exactly like the small child Pella had tried to make her out to be. Turning Emile scooped her into a hug. Chin resting on her head he tried to cling to the anger he would need against Pella, while giving Nora only soft, calming energy. ”She is really angry at me. All the time. For a lot of reasons, and not all of them make sense. I was a boy when I brought Pella home, too much a boy to be a good husband. So we fight, and I’m sorry you had to see such an ugly one your first day home. She’s just frustrated, and she tried to hit me with craft. I broke the dishes pushing the blast away.”

The truth couldn’t cut any deeper than lies or distractions. He would just have to be as unbiased in the truth telling as his temper and personal feelings would let him be. ”Don’t wait out here. Please. Come inside. This your home. You belong here.” No matter what any of the rest said. That was a decision left to Emile by Aramis, who was the only other person he would let dictate such things. The women made him happy, most of the time, and Aramis liked him happy so he tolerated a life with others in their midst.

”The sea is always going to be right there. You don’t have to hide in it. Come inside. You have a bedroom, just for you.” He tempted. Taking a short step backwards to see if she would follow. ”When Pella feels a little better, you and I can walk on the beach to find pretty shells to put in it. I think there’s braided bread to snack on too.” There was only one bathtub, though there were two bathrooms. It had giant iron feet and was deep enough for a seal to bathe in. Emile had never used it but the man that sold it to him had assured it was a favorite of women. ”Aramis asked his woman if she had anything that might fit you, so there are some clothes already in there.”

He just had to get Nora occupied for an hour. That was about as long as Pella could stand him in one sitting, sex or not. Then he could see if she had picked a number higher than the one he had decided on, and find out if Captain Nazaire's lurid stories on how to make a woman beg for more had any truth in them.

Nora Dupuis

    Tiger Eye Birthright
  • witch
  • Played By: dergon

    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    11 Posts    442 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #13 on: June 13, 2019, 09:50:52 PM »

Distance still kept. Nora pressed her thumbnail into her dress, watching the water bubble up under the pressure. He hadn’t noticed the rain then. Too busy losing his temper. And maybe forgetting about her while she waited. All his cheerfulness a front to make her forget now. To forget the angry welt he’d left on his wife. The snarling and hissing.

It was scary. But Emile was sorry. Nora didn’t know what to saw to his apology, body shrinking and eyes sliding away as she shrugged in answer. ”Thank you.” Manners were never misplaced, she’d been taught that by her mother. Coached in pleases and thank you’s. An apology always appreciated, even if you couldn’t forgive the offense. Nora thought she could forgive this one. Maybe. Wincing as he clutched her hand in his.

That passed too. Turning gentle and intimate as he fit their fingers together and pet her hand all at once. A wistful smile crossed Nora’s lips, which trembled, like her hand. But only a little. She liked the way he talked. Words all pressed together in bursts. ”That would be nice.” It wasn’t comfortable to be seal wet when she wasn’t wearing her seal skin. Too much moisture in the air to let her dry.

It was more comfortable between herself and Emile as they walked. Bodies finding each other. Bumps. Brushes. Clam hardened hands tucking her hair back when it threatened to consume her face. Nora could almost forget where they were going. Forget what they would be facing. Right until it was in front of them. All the energy generated by Emile and Pella threatening to spill out onto her. Nora stopped.

The distance between then grew as Emile kept walking. Stopping only when their arms could stretch no further. When he remembered her, he came back, arms pulling her close. Chin a hard spot at the crown of her head while he explained the anger. Or Pella’s part in the anger. Emile did not explain why he had been mad. Maybe the craft, or the dishes. Shivering against him, Nora tried not to be afraid. ”I hope they weren’t the new ones.” Was all she could come up with.

Nora offered him alternatives. She would rather be wet than inside the house. All that anger and emotion pressing on her. She shook her head against his tempting. Her fingers plucking at his shirt. Looking down his front, Nora put it off. ”You lost your belt.” She noticed. She didn’t want to go into the house. And Emile’s shirt smelled more of Pella than him. A scent Nora didn’t have a name for clinging to him. What did she smell like? Wet?

Wet dress. Wet hair. Wet person. ”Its not hiding. I like the sea.” It was hiding, much as she enjoyed the ocean. Emile tempted more. Baths. A room. Food and clothes too. Nora didn’t want to go into the house. But she did want to please Emile, who had saved her. So she followed when he pulled away, trailing him up into the house where it was Nora’s turn to hold his hand too tight.

Inside it was quiet. Emotions laying along the floor. But there was no more screaming or slapping. No one snarled or hissed. There was no one at all. Squeezing him harder, Nora kept walking. She wasn’t sure if they had run away from the fight or her. Stepping around a broken bowl, she followed Emile into the bathroom where the big tub waited. Empty, just like the house. ”I can fill it.” She promised. She wanted to be useful, instead of a burden that needed dragged through the house. Given clothes that had an owner.

These people owned things. They possessed things of their own. And people. Wives and husbands. ”I can do it.” She promised again. She could. Even if she had never seen anything like it before. She needed a bath. Emile said so. She probably smelled like wet and mud. Nothing half so nice as the smell crushed into his clothes. She would be good and take a bath and stay out of the way.

And she would not be a wife, she decided.   

”Thank you for coming to get me.” She played with a knob, toes itching mud off her opposite foot. ”Will you be very long?” She asked, staring as the water came rushing from the pipes to fill the bathtub. ”Oh!” It was cold, but Nora could heat it. Tiger Eye making the room warm and muggy along with the water. ”I’ll wait here this time. Promise.” Curious fingers tipping a bottle into the water with a clatter before they began working her dress off.

Too wet to be pulled up over her head, Nora wiggled up out of the neckline.

Emile Dupuis

    Blood Opal to Red
  • Warlord Prince
  • Played By: Jones

    King of Pearls
    Ile de Paon Kaeleer
    19 Posts    691 marks
Re: Worthless
« Reply #14 on: June 14, 2019, 12:21:04 AM »
Spare hand running over his cropped hair Emile nodded. Not bashful, too much a warlord prince for that, but far less confident with this young wife he wanted to please. ”They’re not the new ones.” And you don’t have to be afraid, he wanted very badly to add. Dictating her emotions wasn’t fair; not when he was making so many abrupt changes to her life. So he just willed it with all his heart. If she was going to trust him, or fear him, he had to let her decide.

For now it seemed she wasn’t sure. A little flavor of anxiety in her aura. Nervous fingers at a loose thread on his shirt. Looking at him without meeting his eyes. Just a shake of her head for his coaxing. Eyes lowering to his waist he swallowed guilt. ”Yeah. I took it off.” Did she guess why? Why did she look there to notice? How much did a girl so sheltered as to believe her people were as small as one rookery know about sex? Smoothing his palms over her forearms he peered into her face. Trying to guess what or how much she assumed.

”I would feel better if I knew where you were while I have to be distracted…” Would she be happier out there waiting? The fishmen never came into the cove anymore. Fear that she would be in danger wasn’t the problem, it was that she could very easily get lost in this new place. She didn’t know the lay of the seafloor or where the rip current flowed.

Three minutes. Two to go. Pella would be counting.

Nora gave in, and he could tell it was that. Her fingers tightened around his hand. Thumb soothing circles. He smiled softly at her as they tread over the mess in the kitchen. His hand on her back to help her pick a safe path for her bare feet. Holding her tight to his side Emile mumbled in each room they passed. ”The kitchen, obviously. Excuse the mess, I’ll clean it soon. The sitting room, the girls like to sit in that corner and gossip. Aramis reads in that chair. I sort of just loaf I guess. We sleep in here all together at night most of the time.” Hallway. Bathroom.

”Okay.” He let her go, nodding as she looked at the tub. She did not fill it though. Not at first. Was she waiting for him to leave or did she not know how? Rocking on his heels he pointed at a tall cabinet. ”All of the towels are in there. Soap bars too, with different smells and things.” Girls’ things. He let the salty surf clean his skin then rinsed that off in the shower. 

Her question made him worry. Sitting on the edge of the tub he stretched his legs out. Peeking up at her face from below he searched for unhappiness or fear. Things he only had one minute to fix. Letting her talk without cutting in was hard. He wanted to wipe away all of those doubts he saw behind her eyes. And to chuckle at her surprise over the water from the tap. But he didn’t know exactly what her doubts were, and he didn’t want her to misunderstand his amusement. Or to stupidly say the wrong thing. When she had finished he stood up, hands stroking her shoulders as they started shimming her dress down.

Oh. She would take it off while he was there. Emile’s stomach writhed with the indecency of it- but he was thankful. Thankful for a glimpse that hardened his spear and stroked his lust to life before he had to go to the other room. He was helping to peel the fabric down before he could control himself. Knees bending to work it down her legs. Calf cupped to lift her foot so she could step out of it. And then traced by callouses as he viewed her from below. ”I’ll always come for you. I promise. Explore. Just be smart and be safe.”

He kissed her cheek. Breathing in the scent at her temple, arm sliding around her naked back to press her to his front. She was so beautiful. And not at all the shape of a girl. ”I won’t be very long. She hates to be around me, but she has a woman’s needs. Aramis doesn’t have the drive to keep her satisfied.” Too much. He was telling her too much, he could feel it in his bones. ”I’m sorry. Enjoy the bath. I’ll not be more than an hour at the longest.” Ten minutes if Pella didn’t say anything terrible enough to flag this erection.

Leaving Nora to her bath he made his way back down the hall. The warning he had left there pulsing with emotion. She was still very angry on the other side. And less scared, he was willing to bet. At least until he opened the door with the unshaken determination to do as he had promised. ”Did you pick a number?” He asked, toeing off his boots as soon as he had shut the door behind him. This wife was beautiful too. Beautiful the way storms and whirlpools and fire were beautiful. It was difficult for Emile to face that reflection of his own temper and not fear he would sear them both to the ground. So he had flagged and failed and disappointed Pella a thousand times. But not this one.
 

Welcome to Witchlight

We are an AU Black Jewels RPG that is continuously expanding the world lore to truly make it our own. Come join us and play in our sandbox!

Open for over a year, we have 9 unique races, from birds to wolf-shifters. Feel free to drop into our Discord, lurk our wanted ads, and see if Witchlight is the fantasy site you should always have been looking for.

We have an RPG Rating of:

Timeline

WINTER - AW102

The seasons will change on 08/19.

Recent Topics

The Best (Worst) Ideas [CW] by Irja Bucksbrook
[Today at 06:49:07 AM]


When They're Gone by Surinder Shirazi
[Today at 06:39:53 AM]


Prey [CW] by Mihail Briarwood
[Today at 06:32:42 AM]


Worthless [cw] by Emile Dupuis
[Today at 01:09:14 AM]


Transactions by Jones
[Today at 12:30:31 AM]

Chat

Guest Friendly Discord
login & choose a name, no registration required!

Wanted Spotlight

Lane
Priestess | SS to Green | Traveling Terrielle
Ringmaster of Legarde Family Circus

Rumor Mill

Credits

Witchlight is loosely based upon the Black Jewels Series by Anne Bishop though it has been adapted and expanded by our members. All lore, characters, and writing belongs to the members. Site graphics & custom codes were created by the staff. A special thanks to Wolf & Katarina for all their help with the planning of Witchlight and the writing of the base lore.

Community Awards Winner