Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All characters belong to their respective owners - Jace Beleren and co are property of Magic: The Gathering, and Kethravyn Zhal as well as other originals are my own.
Kethravyn awoke on the floor of her room in the Llanowar Inn. She felt a sharp pain in her head that sang of too much drink, and as she struggled to sit up by pulling herself onto her bed, she tugged the sheets down on top of her and dropped back to the hard wooden floor with a thud.
She closed her eyes, her breathing laboured as she struggled not to vomit on herself. She crossed her arms over her exposed breasts, hands gripping each shoulder. "I feel awful," she moaned, turning her head to the side; she buried her face into her confectionery-coloured hair, breathing in the scent of the particular soap she'd used. It always managed to help keep her stomach, and for a moment she forgot the blinding pain rattling around in her head.
The city of Ravnica flowed beneath her window, the market outside the inn bustling with life. She could hear traders haggling with customers, children screaming, animals braying and baying, and the stench of smoked meats wafted through the slats, breaking the calming scent of lavender and violet that she was concentrating on. She found a burst of energy as she rolled to her stomach, pushing off of the floor and darting for the waste bin.
Between heaves, she heard a sharp rap at her door, and managed to call a very pained, "Come in," before she began her retching anew. When she had finished, she managed to slide ungracefully to the floor, laying in a heap in the fetal position. Her blue eyes came to rest on a pair of thick, black boots, things that she focused her red, watery eyes on for a moment before letting them sweep upward.
"Jace," she choked, closing her eyes as the room seemed to tilt beneath her.
"Gods be damned, Kethry," he chastised angrily. He crouched down next to her, ignoring her state of undress, and with a finger carefully unstuck a streak of pink and white-blonde hair from her eyelashes. "Tezzeret has men everywhere. This is the last place you need to be right now," he said, his deep voice doing nothing to hide the hostility he felt for the man.
"Nooo," she began, pushing his hand away despite the gentle touch he had. "this is the last place you should be," she corrected him. She took a few breaths and pushed off of the floor, making it to her bed, her movements totally unashamed. Her thin frame was wracked with scars and bruises, the freshest of which displayed as a pair of large handprints, one on either of her forearms, as though someone had grabbed her. When she turned, she noticed him staring at them, and grabbed the thin linen sheet from the bed, wrapping it around herself.
Jace merely arched an eyebrow at her. She was as modest as a gemhide sliver, so when did she suddenly feel embarrassed to be standing before him?
"Kethry," he said, his voice holding a warning note to it.
"What?" she replied, her voice defensive. She made it a point not to look him directly in his eyes, instead turning to sit on the bed with her back to him. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes, sighing heavily. She felt so horrible, and she knew he was about to make it worse.
For a moment, Jace wanted to shake her. He knew he didn't need her help, but after Liliana, it was hard for him to be alone. Tezzert had killed her after she'd revealed where he and Kallist had gone, and after he 'leaped' into his own body, Kethry had been the only person there who could even remotely help him. She was talented, and if he thought so then it said something. She had her own way of doing things, that was certain, but she had raw ability and he had been successful in helping her to guide it. Of course, it went without saying that neither of them could ever use their abilities on one another without the consent of the other, but every once in a while it was hard for Jace to resist, because it would have been much easier to read her mind then to wait for an honest answer.
It wasn't the first time he'd found her sleeping off a hangover in an inn with no real memory of the night before. It made him sick to his stomach to think of how much she dealt with. She was an Empath, and a strong one. The drinking could help dull it, but it made him not want to be around her because he felt partially responsible for some of the burden she carried, and to watch her drink to excess was painful. He wasn't an easy person to be around, and especially after both coming back into his own body and finding out that Tezzeret had killed Liliana, he was virtually radiating pain all the time, even if he could maintain a good outward face. Unfortunately, just faking the appearance didn't help Kethry at all.
"I had an off night," she said softly, breaking under his disappointed stare.
He immediately regretted the guilt he'd meant to convey, and sat down on the bed in a way that faced her. He reached out and took her hand into his own, fingers tracing the bruises lightly. "You gotta be more careful," he said, his voice just above a whisper. It sounded like a plea.
She closed her eyes and lowered her head, pressing her full lips together. "I know," she admitted.
"What happened?" he pushed, distracting her from the nausea and pain of her drinking expedition by dragging the tips of his fingers over her palm. He caught a flicker of a smile on her elfish face, then the inevitable laugh when his touch began to tickle. He released her hand when he felt her begin to pull it away, resting his own on his legs as he re-adjusted himself on the uncomfortable bed.
She shook her head, fussing with the hem of the sheet that she had wrapped around her like an awkward, flowing white dress. "Nothing, really," she said with a sigh, running her hand through her fuzzy, shoulder-length platinum and pink hair. "I had a little disagreement with some Wojeks. Had to make them go away. Then I cut through a few alleys and came in here for the night. I felt like I deserved a drink or two for my victory," she said.
She was silent for a moment, then fixed her blue eyes on his own. "How did you find me?" she asked. She didn't remember much after coming into the inn. Men had been buying her drinks all night because she was gorgeous and fun and she'd been toying around with red magic so her alcohol-induced fire-breathing trick definitely worked in her favour. She didn't even know how she'd gotten into her room, but it was definitely warded, so it wasn't as though anyone had come in or out without her say. Except Jace, of course, but the day she could find a ward good enough to stop him would be the day that she would no longer need him. Of course, she'd never tell him that.
"Are you kidding?" he asked, his cheek dimpling as he smiled more broadly. He raised his eyes to follow her hand as she reached out and pushed his hood off of his head. "I'm a Planeswalker. I could find you anywhere. I know your energy signature like the back of my own hand," he added matter-of-factly
"You look like a creeper like that," she joked, reaching up to push the hood of his dark blue-black cloak off of head. She seemed to stall out, hand slowly brushing back through his hair and down his cheek, index finger concentrating on the markings that decorated the right of his face.
This was always how it had been between Kethry and Jace. Blue adepts were volatile, anchored in two worlds, one of stability and one of ferocity. Their interactions were like the tides, the ebb and flow of the mood dictating the highs and lows of their relationship. Most blue mages found themselves incompatible amongst like, but the amount of duress that Kethry and Jace had been thrown into was just enough to help bond them together.
He caught her fingers in his hand before she could pull her arm back, then lowered her hand a little. He pressed his thumb into the spot between where her own thumb and index finger met. A grin sparked across his face as he saw her eyes roll back for a moment before her lids dropped, lashes fluttering. She flattened out, folding over onto his knee, arms tucked beneath her as she held the sheet together.
"How is your head, now?" His need for an answer was purely egotistical. Her body language alone was satisfying, but he wanted to hear her say it, if for no other reason then because he needed to remind her that they were paired for a reason.
"Amazing," she moaned, face first into the fabric of his pants.
There were sudden loud sounds below the window, and an obviously more alert Kethry sat up, sleepy eyes squinting at the rays of light pouring through the wide slats on the shutters. "What the hell is that?" she asked, looking to Jace.
He looked from her to the window as well, reaching outward with his mind to see if he could figure out what was going on without sticking his head out the window and inadvertently joining the fray himself. If there was trouble, he didn't want anyone knowing that the room was occupied; it could invite trouble into the inn. He knew that Kethravyn had set up wards (which he was delighted to walk right through – the perks of having taught her how to lay them), but wards couldn't hold everything. If something like a Swarm suddenly decided to pour into the inn, they would not be safe for long.
What he felt was blinding pain and heat; total and utter chaos and rage and frenzy. He was filled with a strong, burning desire for sex and blood and pain and violence, one that terrified him enough to cause him to back up off of the bed and away from Kethry as he tried to close his mind to what he was receiving. Yes, he was talented – perhaps the most, but all the shock and trauma didn't help him with his progress, and it certainly didn't do him any good when he'd opened his mind up to what had been a group of Rakdos devotees starting a riot in the market.
"Oh – Agh!" he cried out, putting his hands over his face and scrubbing his eyes like it would matter. "Stay over there, Kethry. Get dressed!" he commanded.
She took only a moment to look bewildered before doing exactly as he commanded, though his sudden stumbling, but when he raised his voice, she did as she was told without any protest. She was thankful for the momentary respite they'd had, which they didn't have often, and that he'd mostly eradicated her nausea and pounding headache (though not totally, but she could manage). By the time she'd pulled on her leather pants, he was crouched over with his hands on his knees, trying to steady himself. Apparently it was his turn to vomit.
"Jace?" she said experimentally, a pause in her rush to dress. She had tugged the short revealing undershirt on and then the lighter, flowing linen over that, and she had it half-over her head while she waited to gauge his reaction. When he didn't speak right away, she finished pulling the shirt down and took a step towards him, a hand out cautiously.
"DON'T!" he commanded. "Rakdos," he spat, reeling back and dropping to his behind, knees up as he pressed his back flat to the wall.
Kethry recoiled instantly. She sat down on the bed only to pull her knee-high boots on, then rolled off of it into a standing position and grabbed her bag. She snatched her knives up off of the wardrobe and began strapping them down to her thighs and sliding them into her boots. With a final grab, her black cloak was ripped from the little crooked nail above the door and secured around her neck, the hood pooling behind her messy hair.
She focused on Jace now, lips pressed together in a pensive line. They always agreed not to interfere with eachother, but if there were Rakdos followers stirring up the market, more would come. They were attracted to chaos like moths to a flame, and they didn't exactly feel endeared to blue mages. The fact that there were a lot of people on the hunt for Jace's blood at the moment also didn't help. That Kethry was with him would only make her collateral damage, or worse yet, a tool to use against him (or the other way around).
He felt like he was going to explode. He was full of thoughts and feelings that weren't his own – despite his raw talent, he could still bite off much more than he could chew, and he was afraid
that he would hurt her. Kethravyn was a capable fighter, as well as a capable blue adept (even if she'd taken to learning the red magics recently, which she kept from him but he knew anyways), but Jace was bigger than she was, and he was stronger both physically and mentally. If he wanted to hurt her, he could, and he would. It was horrifying that he was aware of that fact right then, and even worse that he was considering how easily he could do it.
"Get back!" he snapped, and found that she wasn't inclined to listen. He felt her hands fix on either side of his face as the warmth of her body told him that she had knelt down beside him. She leaned in and pressed her forehead to his, opening her own floodgates.
"To me, Jace," she told him softly, instructing him to let the madness flow out of him and into her. He found that it was incredibly hard to let go of and realized that he had some repression he'd need to handle at a later date, but after a few seconds of having no success, he felt her gentle, inviting lull, and found that he couldn't resist it.
Kethry gritted her teeth as she felt the transfer. She was suddenly overwhelmed with the same out-of-control emotions that Jace had just been burdened with, but because she was prepared, she was able to filter it through. There were a few seconds where Jace had to avoid her writhing and baring her teeth, but it was over as quickly as it had begun for her, and he was eternally grateful once again that he had found her.
"Thank you," he said sincerely. "Now, let's get out of here before we get ripped in half."