My favourite Animorphs pairing is very possibly Edriss/ Elfangor, but there's not much fiction for that. What I have found tends to put them in a loving relationship, perhaps united by their hatred of Visser Three. Whilst they do both loathe him, I don't think that would be enough to overcome their distaste for each other ever. But I wanted to write Edriss/Elfangor smut!
So... The back story to this little ficlet is that a new race, the Messaridians, have appeared, and threaten to destroy everyone. The Yeerks and Andalites decide to work together to destroy this dangerous race, and seal their alliance with political marriages. Visser One, being a top Yeerk, demanded someone equally special from the Andalites as her husband. She got Elfangor. And on this flimsy pretext, this fic was written...
K. A. Applegate owns Animorphs.
Like eating glass
Edriss, my darling, you are home early. My wife hesitates on the threshold to our elaborate quarters, (which are of course massive, as befits Visser One and her esteemed consort), caught in the act of unbuckling her jacket and throwing it carelessly to a subordinate Gedd which hovers dutifully, awaiting the whirling garment. She is tense, anger and fire whenever she sees me, no matter what form I take. The afternoon sunlight from the seventh and eighth suns of this planet streams through our windows and catches the turn of her human head, her fierce, deep brown eyes and the curling black hair. She is confused, wary. This is rare affection for me to show, and she wonders perhaps if I am mocking her, but I bound down the stairs, ready to prove I can be a husband. I stop in front of her, lift her small hand to my human lips, kiss it. She wants to pull away, to wipe herself clean, but I have chosen my morph well – I am a handsome human male – well toned, well turned out and suitable sport for an exhausted Yeerk with very unYeerkish desires.
Not that her desires ever lean in my direction. That first day we met I made my distaste for her clear, and she showed equal disgust at the thought of touching me. Neither of us wanted this marriage and thus both were cold and resentful towards each other. I find this amusing, as of course our hatred would really have been better directed at our own commanders who had forced us together. But, how I hated her for agreeing to marry me, and myself for agreeing to marry her, for the greater good.
I suppose if we'd really tried we might have made it work.
No.
I was forced into this wretched marriage and I had intended to make it as unpleasant for her as it was for me.
Except no more. She raises her eyes to mine, dark with momentary confusion, but flashing now with a mocking flicker. "You're in good humour, Elfangor." She removes her hand pointedly from my grasp, fastidiously. Inside I want to tear her apart. What does this creature presume to know about my moods, or when I am in good humour or foul spirits? She'd only known me for six miserable months. I reach for her hand again and pull her gently towards the receiving area, with its lush leather sofas, employing all the skill I have in courtesy. A soft touch on her hand, an inviting sparkle in the eyes. I made an effort today, dressing well. I turn from her, leading her with my arm reaching back, giving her the full benefit of what tight trousers can do for a young human male. Don't look back, Elfangor. So limiting not having stalk eyes! Just trust that it's working.
Councillor Garoff's words, racing around my mind. He'd summoned me earlier this day to his presence, a presumption I'd taken grave offence at.
How dare you demand I come to you? I am not some lackey! I paced aggressively in front of him, twitched my tail. His blunt Hork Bajir face registered no fear.
"You are failing to keep our bargain," he said coldly. "If this continues I will stop co-operating with the Andalite people and abandon you all to your sorry fate."
And the Yeerk race would crumble mere seconds after the last Andalite safeguard fell, exposing you to the Messaridians, I sneered. Yet you summon me because I am a poor husband?
"She complains about you," Garoff said angrily. "You are discourteous and publicly embarrass her. You do not present a united front. A poor husband. We expected better from an honourable Andalite who entered into this bargain freely." The sneer in his voice was vile.
A happy marital life was not in the contract, I retorted. A close relationship exchanging information and cohabiting for convenience was what I signed up for. You expect me to pretend she's my sweetheart and I married her for love?
"You're meant to be the splendid, the marvellous Beast Elfangor!" Garoff snarled, his words a whip cracking around the room. "She says fucking you is like eating glass. You've had six months of playing husband your way, and this alliance is crumbling. I worked hard to secure this treaty with your people, Beast. I will not allow your petulance to destroy it."
She said that? I asked, anger roaring in me. Well why did she ask for me then, since she so clearly loathes me? He didn't answer, and he didn't need to. I knew why Visser One demanded War Prince Elfangor as her partner when we were paired up, Yeerk to Andalite. Prestige. I'm the best we had, and she knows it. Sex had not been officially agreed in the contract, but it had seemed to follow in some of these unnaturally close relationships, and Visser One had been swift to demand similar access to me as was enjoyed by Visser Three with his partner, a hardy little Andalite called Eleeta Garan Tellon. I'm not a human, I said finally. I was never intended for human sex.
"However you're doing it, it's not working. Perhaps because from what I hear you make great efforts to have the least amount of contact possible," Garoff snapped. It was a horrible feeling, having him discuss my sex life so candidly. He might as well have spread some stained bed sheets in front of me, and worked systematically through the blotches. "You will conduct yourself in a more considerate manner. I doubt your people will be pleased with you, Beast, if you alienate Visser One from their cause. You desperately need our help, and you know it, so I want to hear glowing reports of your conduct, in public and in private." I seethed inside, but somehow controlled my anger.
Any other commands, Councillor?
"Go home," Garoff said coldly. "Co-operate more completely with Visser One, in every way." I swept him a deep, sardonic bow, aiming my expression of loathing at his feet.
But of course.
Now I kneel in the receiving area, in front of Visser One, this Yeerk who asked for me yet holds me in contempt. I take her hand, as a penitent sinner. Edriss, there are things that must be said. I use thought speak to remind her who and what I am. I do it to show I do not need this human mouth I have morphed. She makes a sound of protest, but I push on. I have not been a good husband to you. I am aware of this. I wish to rectify my mistakes of the past. She starts to say something, but I suddenly rise and kiss her, on the lips, stifling whatever she is saying. She is surprised, but then her mouth opens and, a new thing, she kisses back as I kiss her. Her hands grip my shoulders, aggressive claws trapping me. We've never shared anything more than a brief meeting of our mouths before – as if I was trying to bite her, snapping my teeth at her and snatching my head back crossly. We pull apart, and I've slipped my hands around her, circling her waist. Her eyes are still fierce, suspicious.
"What game are you playing, Elfangor?"
The game I was ordered to, I reply candidly. The husband game. It sickens me to the core to humble my pride in front of her, but her good will is so very important to our alliance – without Yeerk support we Andalites would fall to the Messaridians in an instant. I can feel her pressing against me through her dress, can feel her breath catch and quicken. "You could start by being rather more co-operative and obedient." Her smile is dangerous.
I drop my head, as if ashamed. I have acted childishly, appallingly. You deserve so much better. I can only pray you will give me a second chance, to prove that I am worthy to be your husband. A coy smile touches her lips. I'd never even noticed if my wife was capable of flirtation before. She doesn't desire me, of course, hates 'Beast Elfangor', but she is after all a Yeerk, and she's desperate to possess me, in any way possible. I am so achingly aware that I am a prize for her, something she can flaunt in front of Visser Three. Currently she is consumed with jealousy, for they say he and Eleeta mate tolerably well and frequently, and play exciting power games in the dark.
"And if I grant you a second chance? What do I get in return?" I draw her closer, her head hovers near my shoulder and I breathe in her scent. She smells rather nice actually, and I've showered only an hour ago to give her the full benefit of how good I can smell soapy and fresh. I kiss her hair, stroke it, feel her relaxing like a cat under me, her every movement controlled by that calculating grasping mind, and then she pulls away and frowns.
"I heard you saw the Councillor Garoff today."
Yes, he wanted to talk to me, I reply calmly, and inside shout Shit!
"What about?" she asks. Her eyes are lowered, like she's really interested in the top buttonhole of my shirt. She lifts a hand and fiddles with it, her fingertips brushing my throat. But of course she's suspicious – she's Visser One, and no matter how much she looks like a normal human female I must remember that underneath is that ambitious, distrustful slug.
Our honeymoon, I improvise, and she lifts her head, calculating eyes flashing at the prospect of a new prize. Visser Three had no honeymoon, and she would love to taunt him with pictures of us 'truly getting to know each other'.
"You said you couldn't be spared from the war effort. I mean..." She stops abruptly at the memory of the fact that seven months ago we sat on different sides of a war. I kiss her hair again, soothing her. She's very fierce still, but I can feel the tension draining out of her human body at my proximity. Appearances are so deceptive – it's like we're forgetting who we really are and pretending we're just a human husband and wife. She doesn't fear me when she can't see my tail. She usually despises me. but now that I'm stroking her gently, kneading her muscles, she's happy to take advantage of the pleasure.
Part of my resolution to be a better husband. I want to take you somewhere wonderful. Somewhere we can properly get to know each other. I lower my kisses to her forehead, her ecstatically closed eyelids as she thrills at the thought of getting to know me, of perhaps even touching my mind. How desperately she wants to crush my arrogance, to assert herself truly and speak to me one to one, to rule supreme in the kingdom within my skull. I hold the forbidden fruit out to her like a tempting bribe as I kiss her, my breath warming the tiny space between us.
"A hot little planet," she whispers. "With spicy scents and exotic tastes. Beaches..."
I can't swim very well, I admit, a part of me dying as I show her a crack in my armour.
"I'll teach you," she laughs, and inside I grimace at the idea of me splashing clumsily next to Visser One in... something stirs in me. She'd look very nice indeed in a bikini, as far as humans go. Edriss gasps, she's standing so close she can feel my reaction, and I pull away instantly, but she's shaking with laughter. "I had no idea the prospect of swimming lessons could have such an effect." This is slightly strange, this new coy side of her. I haven't seen it before. It's not unattractive.
But then she frowns slightly, and I know what she's thinking. She's thinking, 'what does it matter if he is excited, because sex with him is like eating glass?' Thoughts like that put a dampener on the idea of our little powerplay trip. Walks on the beach, yes, giant cocktails in the moonlight, yes, making out in the surf, yes and then... what's the point at all when you can only expect disappointment at the critical moment?
At least I've never made her cry during sex. But I haven't made her smile either.
She tells Councillor Garoff everything.
I want to hear glowing reports.
I laugh lightly, as if it is nothing to me, when really it is everything. Perhaps this is something else we can try to start over with. She frowns distrustfully.
"In the middle of the afternoon?" I sort of leap forwards, catch her, lift her. She gasps with surprise as I swing her over my shoulder, but it has to be purposeful like this - she's not interested in silliness and faltering teasing, so I throw her heftily at the stairs, and she gives an angry shriek and retreats hissing at me and my clumsiness.
"Stupid, clumsy oaf!"
I laugh and say, All intended, Yeerk! and race after her, and catch her on the first landing, tackling her to the ground. We're both breathing hard, and she's still angry with me, her hand lashes out and catches me in a hard slap. I fight the urge to retaliate, grab her wrist and then somehow my other hand's slid up beneath her dress and suddenly she gasps and her expression changes to one entirely different.
"Oh God, do that again." I freeze my fingers, teasingly still.
What, catch you? You'll have to run away again. As I speak my index finger gives a gentle wiggle and she gasps, her body heaving under me.
"No, that, that!" I know then, I've found her weakness. It's in the sensations her own human host gives her. She can control it at all times, except for when it comes to sex, and then it controls her.
This? I ask, as if surprised. We've never used foreplay before, so my whole box of tricks is waiting, unopened. I assume a look of concentration and slide my third finger next to the index one, giving both a wiggle. Her eyes roll back, she gasps again and I lean forward with my spare hand, lifting her head up and kissing her gently. Her knees rise on either side of me, my chin on her breasts, and I gently breathe on her exposed cleavage, then run my tongue down her neck line. She's breathing hard, the feel of her body trembling sending heat through my stomach. I withdraw my hand, and she utters an angry sound, but I am half standing and now reach down and sweep her up, lifting her in my arms. No complaints now – she's very light really and no longer squirming in my grasp. I take her up the next flight and kick open the bedroom door. Her eyes light up when she sees the bed – she seems to have changed her mind about the inevitability of me being terrible in bed, and she laughs and scratches her nails hard down my upper arms.
Groaning in pain I deposit her on the bed and stand over her. She sits up, knees apart, dress dishevelled, impatient and imperious.
"What are you waiting for?" I raise my hands defensively. "I command that you get on with it." She claps her hands, and I bow sardonically.
"As you wish." She says fucking you is like eating glass.This vile creature encased inside its human shell reports everything I do to Garoff. Every damn thing. I want to hear glowing reports... They'll blow your mind, I hiss at him in my imagination. It has a similar effect as a cold shower on me, the thought that my performance will be commented on, that he'll know I'm obeying him out of fear of us losing this alliance.
Which is why I have to do this.
I lean forwards, kissing her mouth then trailing my lips down her neck. She is imperious as a queen, demanding that I please her. Her fingernails rake my back and she is, as always, very grabby, very possessive. My head is wrenched up when she has had enough of my tongue on her collarbone, when she wants to kiss me again. My hands grasp her knees, stroke them in circles then inch up her legs, and she tilts her head back, brings my mouth to her throat again with her other hand, thrilled as my finger tips creep closer. I remove my left hand and reach up, unlacing the back of her dress. As it falls more open I run my tongue gently over her breasts and touch her nipples with my teeth. Her gasps are music, and then she gives a long moan when the fingers on my right hand complete their journey up her leg. I kiss below her breasts, trail my tongue over her stomach, pushing her dress lower. And then I use my tongue lower still, and this time she gasps and shakes involuntarily. After the tremor passes she raises an eyebrow and says, "Very impressive" like I am a performing dog.
I wait until she's stopped shuddering before starting up again, and this time I take my clothes off as well, and hold her close. I try to use my arms to support me so that my full weight doesn't descend on her, because a previous girlfriend of mine complained that my hips in this human morph were too bony and bruised her.
I don't want Visser One bruised. As Garoff ordered, I will do my best to make her happy. She's certainly smiling when we finish, a predatory smiles that is interrupted by the little shudders running through her. She looks up at me with her large, brown, human eyes. They're warm and liquid, but you can see something sharp glittering behind them. You can see the Yeerk.
"Councillor Garoff really got through to you," she says mockingly. I drop my pretence of warmth for a minute and show her my own hard, bitter eyes.
"We have a word on the home planet, for children who run and tell tales. It is not polite." She snorts and shakes my hand off of her thigh, as if it is once again repulsive.
"We'll do that again, many times, Elfangor. And we'll stand together in public, and smile and say how well this marriage is working out. Now that I know you can lie as well as any Yeerk we will present a united front." She rolls over, inspects me as I lie there silently. "It is important to me that this marriage is seen to be successful, for as long as it is necessary. As long as that little bitch hangs off Visser Three's arm, as long as he fucks her, I want you here, I want you to stand by my side."
I smile, my most charming smile, and the resentment in my voice is almost hidden by its light tone. "Of course, dear wife. I thought the Messaridians were our common enemy, but it appears we are united against a far greater menace. Heavens forbid that Visser Three holds an Andalite for longer than you do." She smiles, possessively, pleasurably, like a Taxxon that is finally full at last.
"I am so glad you understand, Elfamgor. Do you know, I think this marriage will work after all."
