*Author's Note* Thanks again to Nadia for allowing me to weave actual content from the book into this fic. This continues into probably my favorite chapter of Fathoms of Forgiveness, Chapter 27: Aazuria Goes Apeshit. I am *not* finished with this half of the story, but today is the deadline! So I will continue the story here when it is finished! Oh and I guess I should mention there is my first lemon in here and it is yuri, so it is my first lemon and my first yuri and my first yuri lemon. You have been warned. I hope you enjoy!
And Vachlan into the room.
"W…wait until the Queen hears about this." Sionna said pulling Visola away from Vachlan into a tender hug that lasted several moments. Sionna tilted her head to whisper into Visola's ear, although not really caring if Vachlan had heard her.
"You know you are mad for bringing him. Zuri's going to…"
Aazuria burst into the throne room, frantically examining Visola. Sionna reverted back to her corner, crossing her arms. The newly-crowned queen gripped her husband's sword tightly in her fist as Trevain and Elandria entered the room behind her. Aazuria shifted her eyes to the man standing beside her friend. Her face was expressionless.
"Approach me, Vachlan," she whispered.
The man began walking toward her. Although his stride was dignified, there was hesitation on his face.
Visola began speaking, pleading words which Aazuria could not hear over the sound of her heart pounding in her ears.
When Vachlan was close enough to strike, Aazuria gazed at him with death in her eyes. "Kneel," she commanded him. Her chest was rising and falling perceptibly.
Vachlan knew that this would be a very unwise thing to do, but he owed it to Aazuria. He owed it to Visola, and to Adlivun—the nation he had once called home. He lowered his head and dropped to one knee before the queen, saluting her across his chest. His eyes were level with the sword she held, and he could see the veins bulging through her translucent pale skin from how tightly she clutched it.
"It would be futile to order you punished," she said slowly. "No one can even attempt to hurt you as much as you have hurt her."
"I know," he answered quietly.
"But it is my duty to try." She struck out with her sword, slicing the air until the blade collided with his face, knocking Vachlan off his knees and onto the floor. Aazuria could vaguely hear Visola screaming for her to stop, but she was already standing over Vachlan and forcing the tip of her sword between his teeth.
Her previous strike had resulted in a huge bleeding gash along the side of his handsome face, but it had not been enough to kill him. She was poised to finish the job.
Vachlan moved his tongue against the steel, tasting the freshly-sharpened metal edge garnished with the metallic taste of his own blood. It is rare that the wine so perfectly accompanies the main dish, he thought as he swallowed the coppery fluid accumulating in his mouth. Kind of like a German Pinot Noir. He looked into the azure eyes of Adlivun's queen and realized that this was no longer the innocent, charitable philanthropist he had known hundreds of years ago. She was hard. He wondered what percentage of the tempered rage behind her eyes he was responsible for generating.
"One reason." Aazuria was demanding. "Give me one convincing reason that I should not thrust my blade directly through your skull."
Visola was at her side, trying to pry the sword away from Aazuria's fingers and begging her for mercy. Aazuria effortlessly shoved her weakened friend aside with one hand before returning both to the hilt of her sword.
Sionna came to Visola's side, rubbing her shoulders and upper arms soothingly, as tears ran down Visola's face.
She gritted her teeth together tightly as her blood pumped through her body at a disconcertingly rapid rate. It took every effort she could muster to refrain from killing him straightaway. She did not even know why she was procrastinating.
"One reason, Vachlan Suchos!"
As the tip of her blade prodded his tonsils, he pondered what reason he should state. He tried to remember what he personally knew of Aazuria, and he tried to remember all of the recent hearsay. What was the one thing she held most dear? Was it love? Was it family? Was it honor? He remembered regarding her as a frigid, do-gooding bitch for most of his existence. She was careful. She did not love easily. What reason would seem the most moving to her? As her icy, unyielding blue eyes bored into him, he realized that there was only one thing which could save him. The truth. He began to rummage within his unsorted baggage to discover the true reason his life should be spared. Of course, there were several. He enjoyed breathing, for example. It was hard to think under pressure. He still imagined that he could gain the upper hand and overcome Aazuria in this fight, but that was not the point. He needed her to sanction his existence. Why? Why did he need this? For Visola? Visola wanted a divorce. Why did he need Aazuria's judgment? He had always been above the law, above the rule of the kings and queens and emperors. He had gone where he wished, and he had taken what he had wanted. When someone had displeased him or insulted him, he had destroyed them without a second thought. Now, he was feeling more guilt than he had ever experienced. He could not accept Visola's pardon, for her judgment was tainted by love. Aazuria was a mostly impartial party who could justly deem whether he deserved his life. He was not sure that he believed he deserved to keep breathing.
Aazuria lifted the sword from his throat, scraping it callously against his teeth and lips as it exited. "Speak now," she commanded.
Vachlan felt a sudden emptiness in his throat where the sword had been. He moved his tongue around to exercise its liberation, stroking the roof of his mouth awkwardly. He swallowed back the mélange of blood and saliva that had gathered once more. As he tried to straighten to some semblance of poise, he noticed that Visola was kneeling at Aazuria's side and weeping. It occurred to him then that this might truly be his final moment. The two women were the closest of friends, and yet Aazuria was completely ignoring Visola's desires. Neither was Visola fighting or struggling to save his life. Not because she was physically incapable of defeating the queen, even in her current weakened state, but because she was deferring to Aazuria's decision. Her ultimate loyalty was not to her husband, but to her queen, Vachlan realized, and he admitted to himself that this was rightly so. He had proven through desertion that he was not worthy of any loyalty—especially one as absolute and pure as Visola's. He swallowed again, but this time his mouth was dry. No one would mourn him. Visola was the person who cared for him most in the world. She was the only person that he had ever considered attaching himself to, and he had failed miserably. He had never really stayed in one place for too long. He had never really had a family to speak of. All his life he had been a nomadic mercenary, and he wondered if he really could fulfill the duties he had promised to so long ago. Maybe he should not have returned to Adlivun.
"Vachlan, if you will not speak, then I will be forced to act."
"Queen Aazuria. Please forgive my transgressions. I need to live so that I may redeem myself as a husband and father," Vachlan found himself saying. "I need you to give me the chance to make things right with Visola."
In one swift and unexpected motion, Aazuria slammed the heel of her foot into the side of Vachlan's head. She tossed her sword at Visola's feet before she crouched down over Vachlan, curling her hand into a fist and driving her knuckles into his jaw.
"You want the chance to make things right with her? You want to heal the wounds you caused?" She scowled at him scornfully. "Are you not eagerly anticipating the moment she opens herself to you, the moment she smiles at you with pure trust? Then when she is vulnerable, you can delight in breaking her down again?" She pulled her hand back close to her body, and repeated the motion, coating her knuckles liberally in his blood.
"How are you going to betray her this time, Vachlan?" She hit him again. "How are you going to betray us all? We welcomed you into our home once and treated you like family. How did you repay us? You sent an army against us, led by Atargatis. Then you had Corallyn killed. Tell me Vachlan, did you kill her with your bare hands? Did you carve those words into my sister's flesh yourself, or did you order an inferior to do it?"
"He didn't do it," Visola said weakly. "Aazuria, it was all Zalcan..."
"When has this man ever followed orders?" Aazuria asked her friend. "If it was done, he could have stopped it. Am I right, Vachlan? You had complete control of the situation. You could have prevented my sister's death. You could have chosen not to harm Visola to begin with. Am I right?"
"Yes," he answered. He pushed on his teeth with his tongue to check if they had come loose. "Queen Aazuria, I am sorry for everything that was in my control, but there was also a great portion of the situation which was beyond me. You must believe one thing, if you believe anything—if I had not been stalling and sabotaging Zalcan's armies, Adlivun would have been under his control decades ago."
"And this is your justification for torturing my friend?" Aazuria whispered.
"No… that was a personal mistake…"
"Mistake! Mistake!" Aazuria shouted. She balled her hands up again into tight, solid fists, and returned to beating him mercilessly.
"Zuri, please!" Visola begged. She turned to Trevain, lifting her hands in shock. "She's gone apeshit!"
"Whoa, take it easy!" Trevain said, reaching out and wrestling Aazuria away from Vachlan. He held her against his chest, wrapping his arms around her to restrain her.
"Zuri, were you going to let me meet my grandfather before you put him in a coma?"
"Look at what he did to her!" Aazuria hissed.
"I know, but look at the way she feels about him," Trevain said.
Indeed, Visola had gone to Vachlan's side and was gingerly touching his jaw. She turned to Trevain angrily. "Yes, I like him a little!" she shouted. "You don't have to make me sound like some lovesick schoolgirl—I am over ten times your age, young man!"
"Sorry, grandma."
"Jesus, he's our grandson?" Vachlan asked, as he stared at Trevain with amazement. He felt a lump of emotion welling up in his throat—an unfamiliar sensation. Was it possible to feel nostalgia for something you had never had? The two men stared at each other, sizing one another up first as adversaries, and then as relatives.
"He's large," Vachlan observed.
"Impressive lineage will do that," Visola said proudly. "I think he's a whole inch bigger than you." When everyone turned to look at her, she frowned and began gesturing wildly at Trevain's stature. "His height!"
"My name is Trevain Murphy," the new king said, releasing his wife so that he could reach out and shake his grandfather's hand.
Vachlan rose to his feet, wiping blood from his nose and cheek with his sleeve before shaking Trevain's hand.
"I want you to know that for my grandmother's sake, I am going to encourage Aazuria to let you live. But if you make a single, tiny misstep, I will finish what she started. I will beat the shit out of you, and I will not stop. Is that understood?"
"It's nice to meet you, Trevain," Vachlan responded.
Trevain gestured to the doorway, where Alcyone quietly stood. "That woman is my mother."
Vachlan looked at the elderly woman, and he saw Visola's striking green eyes staring back at him from under wrinkled eyelids. Her hair was white with age, and she was thin and small. He could see his own facial structure in her cheekbones and nose. It was like looking at an elderly version of Visola, combined with the frailty of his own mother.
"Alcie, baby," Visola was saying tenderly.
Vachlan was shocked—he had never heard his brassy wife use such a sweet voice. He felt a sudden wistfulness to go back in time, and see what Visola had been like as a mother. He wondered what he would have been like as a father. Would they have had petty parental arguments? Would Alcyone have looked at him with pride, trust, and happiness instead of the utter revulsion that was on her face at the moment? Vachlan could imagine what a lovely little girl she would have been, and he could hardly maintain his composure. He felt Visola squeeze his hand, and heard that she was still speaking to her daughter.
"Would you like to come and meet your dad?"
"Mama," Alcyone said, as tears began sliding down her wrinkled cheeks. "Look at what he did to you. I would rather hang myself than ever acknowledge that man as my father."
"Sweetie…" Visola began, but Alcyone had already left the room. She sighed, and finished her sentence unconvincingly: "I'm perfectly fine."
There was an awkward silence in the room, as everyone looked at each other uncertainly. They were vaguely conscious of the fact that they were supposed to be family members, and that there was supposed to be some solidarity between them.
Sionna moved to her sister's side, and began to unwrap the bandages from her hand to examine the wounds.
"I need to get you to the infirmary," Sionna said quietly, "and you need to fucking eat something."
"Always thinking about yourself, Sio. Can't stand being the heavier twin, can you?"
Sionna made a face. "I feel like I'm looking into one of those mirrors in funhouses that make you all stretched and narrow. You were ugly before, but now you're hideous."
Visola smiled, and was about to retort, when Vachlan interrupted. "Sionna—why the hell did you give her a suicide pill?"
"The real question is why didn't she use it? If I was forced to interact with you for as long as she was, I would have. Her body will heal, but the irreversible psychological trauma from having to exist near you? I expect that my sister will either go into a catatonic hibernation forever, or join some sort of strange religious cult which promises her salvation."
"Oh, Sio," Visola said with a smile. "You're just jealous of my hottie husband. I know you want him. I bet you think about him when you mast…" Visola was cut off by a firm gesture from Elandria, who had been remaining silent, as usual.
"I am sorry to interrupt, but before we become comfortable with Vachlan's unsavory presence, should we not ask Aazuria whether she really permits this? This man is only constant in his perfidy. He is our enemy, and because of him Corallyn is dead. We cannot possibly accept him hospitably! My opinion is that we should keep him imprisoned at the bare minimum."
"Always the voice of reason," Vachlan commented. "Without the voice, I mean."
"You intend to live here among us, Vachlan?" Aazuria asked him bitterly.
"With your permission, Queen Aazuria," he responded, bowing to her. "I know that my father wronged you," she said, "but none of us did, and you should not have taken it out on us."
"I realize that now."
Aazuria shook her head sadly.
"Visola has always been there for me. She has always protected me, placed me before herself, and even before her family. She shot her own grandson when she believed he was about to harm me. Why is it that relationships are always so one-sided?" Aazuria questioned. "Why is it that one person is always the benefactor, and the other person benefits? One person is always the protector, and the other is the protected?" She began advancing on Vachlan. "I do not approve of this model. Certain things should be mutual. Just as Visola has served as my protectress, I will be hers. I do not even care if she approves of my actions. You will be accepted back in to Adlivun on probation. If I see you look at her in a way that is not respectful, I will kill you. If I see you look at another woman in a way that resembles interest, I will kill you. If I hear you speak to your daughter in a rude or controlling way, if I hear you talking down to your grandsons, I will kill you. Do you understand this?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "I'll accept whatever conditions you impose. I know that you are fair, and I don't deserve your trust. I just need the chance to be close to my family—I need to be able to protect them from what's coming."
"Then I guess you want your job back," Aazuria said derisively. "The Destroyer of Kingdoms wants to help us preserve ours. Wonderful. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, Visola."
Visola shrugged. "Nothing I can't handle. He's like a trained puppy dog, on a leash of platinum-plated guilt." Visola made a gesture of pulling on an imaginary leash which was wrapped around Vachlan's neck. He glowered at her unhappily.
"Very well," Aazuria said, turning to leave the room. Trevain followed her, with a passing backward glance at his grandparents.
"Puppy dog?" Vachlan repeated in dismay.
"It's true," she said with a smile, reaching over to pat him on the head. She scratched him behind the ear. "Say 'woof!'"
"No."
"Vachlan, please excuse my sister's behavior," Elandria said with her hands. "We have recently learned that Aazuria is carrying a child, and this is certainly skewing her hormones."
"Holy shit!" Visola exclaimed. "Glad to see they were busy having fun instead of worrying about me being tortured and maimed."
"We believe that she conceived on land, after Atargatis wounded her shoulder. Anyway, I apologize for her being somewhat temperamental."
"Temperamental?" Vachlan asked, gesturing to the bleeding gash across his face. "This is what you call temperamental?"
"Yes," Elandria responded. "If she had not been softened by her condition, and by the unfortunate fact that the child she carries is your descendant, I am fairly certain she would have been more reasonable and slaughtered you without a hint of qualm or reluctance."
Vachlan stared at Elandria in surprise. He did not know why, but a small chuckle was fighting its way through his throat. It was hardly a humorous situation, but such vehemence from the innocent girl was unnerving. He glanced at Visola's tired face, and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt a sense of belonging and home. "Glad to be back," he told Elandria with a smile.
She did not return the expression. "If I were queen I would order you executed," she signed.
"Let's make a to-do list," he suggested. "If you ever become queen, I'll remind you of the tasks on your to-do list, and you can order me executed."
"I would not require a reminder," Elandria said before turning and leaving the room.
Vachlan shook his head—he had not known it was possible to feel even guiltier until he had seen Elandria's stern countenance.
"Viso," Sionna said softly. "I've been pretending to be you while you were away to keep the army in shape and…"
"You've been doing what? No way! How's that been?"
"Rather enjoyable and enlightening actually. I didn't know it was possible to act like such a whore and be respected even more in spite of and perhaps because of it. I want your job. Anyway, when you were in the hospital you managed to say one word before the cocksucker cut you off…"
"Hey!" Vachlan complained, but Sionna continued as if he had not spoken.
"…and I knew you'd be back, and I knew that when you returned, I would have to have every ship in our fleet prepared and ready for your command." Sionna saluted her sister. "Just say the word, and I'll launch them wherever you like."
Visola was rendered speechless. "I never knew you had so much faith in me." "Of course I do. I believe I have been learning to understand you better through imitation. You're a complex woman, sis. I think I finally realize why you curse so much. It's fricking fun. The looks on everyone's faces—it's kind of empowering."
Visola grinned. "Well, I won't be up to full power for a while. You can be me any day you like. Actually, I need you to be me today. Can you make a quick pit stop on land to meet with my weapons supplier?"
"Sure thing, Viso"
"Great. Oh, and before you go—can you throw Lieutenant Namaka into the most uncomfortable cell you can find? And rip my bracelet off her slimy, traitorous wrist. Thanks, Sio!"
Sionna set her lips in a grim line as she swam through the corridors to Namaka's quarters.
"...Throw Lieutenant Namaka into the most uncomfortable cell you can find…"Ugh. Why Viso? "…rip my bracelet off her slimy, traitorous wrist…" Slimy? Traitorous? What is it with this vitriolic wording? My sister is so merciless, yet I am obligated to follow her orders. Who am I to go against her orders when I am playing the role of her, regardless of my feelings on the matter.
Sionna sighed, then straightened her posture and knocked on the door to Namaka's modest abode.
The door swung open slowly to reveal Namaka, wearing a soft, pale teal nightdress, with heavy eyelids.
"Visola?"
"Follow me."
"Give me a moment General, I must change into something more suitable."
"Now."
Namaka's heart beat a little faster as Sionna led her to the prison.
This cell. The cell where she gave me her bracelet.
"Wha…why are we here?"
Sionna opened the cell door.
"Get in Namaka." Sionna placed her hand on Namaka's lower back and ushered her into the cell. She stood in the doorway of the cell, grasping the bars on either side of the doorway.
"Why is it that I have heard that you are a traitor?" Sionna said, subconsciously, slowly moving her right hand from the bar on the side of the cell to rest on the hilt of her sword.
"Viso…please…forgive me." Namaka said with a sigh. "It's a misunderstanding. I have been raised to keep an eye on you. After all these years, how can I help but fall in love with you. Your strength, your personality, your humor, is only rivaled by your beauty." Namaka said staring into Sionna's eyes.
"Why have I heard that you are a traitor Namaka?" Sionna said forcing emotion to the back of her throat.
"I used to work for your husband Visola. I severed those ties with the recent attacks on Adlivun, I swear! My alliance is with you Visola." Namaka bore into Sionna's eyes. "Please. Please understand Visola."
"You know how it will reflect on Adlivun if this information gets out Namaka. It is necessary that I lock you up."
"Visola, don't leave me here…alone…please…"
Sionna stepped into the cell and closed the door behind her. The two sat on either side of the cell facing one another, but each stuck inside their own minds, engulfed in a mostly comfortable silence.
"You know…this isn't easy for me Namaka. I must always be concerned with the state, regardless of my personal feelings. I must appear strong, even when I just want to…How can we share a relationship without compromising my position?" Sionna asked with crossed arms rubbing her shoulders slowly.
Namaka did not have an answer for Sionna. The two sat on either side of the cell facing each other, eyeing one another, engulfed in a thick silence.
…
"This will blow over Visola. After the war is over, they'll let me out and this…we won't be an issue. Until then, this can be our little secret." Namaka said as she crawled over to sit next to Sionna.
Sionna leaned over and gave Namaka a peck on the lips while encircling Namaka's head with her arm, resting her hand on Namaka's forehead. Namaka met Sionna's peck with fierce passion, pushing out "you…don't know…how long…I've waited…for you…Viso" in between breaths. Sionna inwardly cringed at the constant reminder that Namaka had loved Visola.
Namaka ran her fingers through Sionna's voluptuous red locks as Sionna ran her hands down Namaka's shoulder blades and upper back, while their soft, moist lips continued to clash against one another. The girl's began to perspire lightly as their breath became heavier.
After running her fingers through Sionna's hair, Namaka ran them down to side of her face, her neck, her collarbone, to her chest. She grasped the sides of her breasts through the Kevlar armor. It was a strange, almost plastic, but silky texture at her fingertips as she grasped Sionna's soft, plump masses. Namaka stuck her hands into either side of the top of the Kevlar armor, willing it down, exposing Sionna's breasts, the armor overlapping itself beneath her breasts.
Namaka looked into Sionna's eyes, with a heavy glaze in her own. She lowered her mouth over Sionna's breast, softly suckling at it. Sionna began pulsating her warm, dripping womanhood into Namaka's thigh, while emitting the softest of a moan.
Namaka pulled herself up into Sionna's lap, while Sionna was sloppily leaning against the wall of the cell, meeting her with a quick, hard, wet kiss. She took Sionna's index finger into her mouth, with her eyes closed, enjoying the senation of the ridges of her fingerprints running across her tongue. Sionna began to pant and was pulling up Namaka's nightdress with her other hand. She ripped her finger from Namaka's mouth, engaging Namaka's mouth with her own again, while running her wet finger up Namaka's thigh.
She pulled Namaka's plain cotton, pale yellow, bikini-cut underwear into the corner of her thigh and plunged her finger into Namaka's wet softness. She pulled her finger, now generously dripping with Namaka's fluids, out of Namaka and ran it up her warmth until it reached her most sensitive part and she torturously began rubbing it, softly. She worked her finger back down to her womanhood, inserting both her index finger and her middle finger and pumping them in and out of Namaka.
Sionna's chest was exploding with anticipation; she found her own womanhood to be on fire, pulsating with desire.
Namaka was softly bucking her hips and emitting small cries to the rhythm of Sionna's hands.
I had always suspected that as a woman, I would have a better idea of what a woman would want, from experience with myself.
Sionna pulled her fingers out and ran them up Namaka's warmth, meeting with Namaka's most sensitive area again. This time she more vigorously rubbed her wet finger against Namaka's bud.
This drove Namaka crazy and she pushed Sionna to the side onto the floor of the cell, yanking Sionna's Kevlar armor upwards.
"Shit" Namaka panted, as the armor fought her against Sionna's hips, but eventually folded over itself upon her stomache. Namaka ripped Sionna's modest panties off of her and began to roughly thrust her wet womanhood against Sionna's.
She rubbed her wetness against Sionna's harder and harder and shortly met her climax, after all of the teasing Sionna had done to her clitoris. She softly continued pulsating her womanhood against Sionna's, as she recovered, knowing at this point that Sionna still very much needed her.
Namaka scooted her body down from Sionna's, facing Sionna's warmth with her mouth. She looked to Sionna anxiously.
"I've…never done anything like this before" she panted to Sionna.
"Neither have I…baby" Sionna said, running her fingers through Namaka's dark tresses, softly inching her womanhood up towards Namaka indicating her need.
Namaka lowered her mouth to Sionna's mound. It was a messy endeavor, after all of the foreplay. Namaka slowly, lightly placed her tongue to Sionna's bud. Sionna exhaled a breath that she didn't know she had been holding and graciously thrust her warmth up to Namaka.
Namaka held her tongue at Sionna's most sensitive area, before lowering it and inserting it into her. She pulled her tongue out and ran it back to Sionna's clitoris. She was determined to give Sionna even more pleasure than Sionna had given her!
She began to flog Sionna's most intimate part with her tongue. Sionna began thrusting her hips to Namaka's mouth wildly. Namaka stuck her fingers into Sionna while maintaining her assault on Sionna's clitoris. This drove Sionna over the edge and she couldn't contain a powerful moan, as she fell limp the cell floor.
Namaka scooted up next to her, kissing her forehead, then kissing her softly on the lips. Sionna groggily wrapped her arm around Namaka and snuggled her, promptly losing consciousness.
"Hey!"
"Hey! Asshole."
"Yes dear"
"Help me out of here, I've got some questions for your little weasel"
"Oh baby" Vachlan joked as he helped pull Visola out of the healing springs.
After having secured a dagger to her waistband, Visola pulled a robe made of armor over herself and walked out of the infirmary towards the holding area.
All of these years that creep has been stalking me. When I get my hands on her…
Visola was not a woman whose bad side one would ever want to be on.
She walked past three dark, empty cells bobbing her head left and right, seeking out her target. She passed two more cells when she stumbled upon an occupied cell.
"…No. Fucking. Way. What the fuck is this?" Visola said aloud as she peered down at the image of Namaka, the traitor, in the arms of whom else but her sister!
Visola stuck her foot underneath the bottom of the door to kick Sionna's foot that lay on the other side.
"Sio! Sio!" She hissed as she kicked her foot.
Sionna stirred from what felt like had been an eternal nap, but in reality lasted about 20 minutes.
To be continued...
Pan Briefs
No day but today.
