14. Acquiescent

The rain had drenched them both; it had gathered over the thick surface of her cape, bombarded his uniform, weakening the fabric with constant assaults, and eventually pierced the outer layers of their clothing. After hours of continued riding, being whipped by the unforgiving wind, wearied by the wakeful night and enduring of the chilling cold, they had finally stopped running. Zero had spotted an abandoned cottage at the woods and guided them towards it.

The horses had been thankful for the rest and vanished quickly under the small canopy by the house that provided them shelter from the rain. Zero had forced the door open after short battle and guided Azkadellia inside the musky cottage. Dust had been everywhere, tools and toys left lying around as if the inhabitants had left in a hurry originally. Azkadellia hadn't minded it; she was still somewhat sagacious and understood that they had little say in the matter. Even the uncouth décor hadn't minded her.

She had removed the pieces of clothing that were the wettest, lying them around the cottage to dry them, and settled herself near the fireplace. With a single touch from her index finger the old wood in the fireplace had combusted. She had enjoyed the heat, squeezing the water from her hair and warming her unshielded arms and shoulders as she had nothing else on but her petticoat and camisole. Her dress – albeit a horrible choice of garment for escape – was drying nearby, recovering from the dirt and rain.

Zero stood by the window at this point, peering at the woods through the windows blurred by water. He had only removed his jacket and was wearing a stolen uniform that had gotten them past the gates. His blonde hair, which was brushed to follow the shape of his head, was completely wet and it dripped cold water onto his neck. He stood rigidly, fearful of their impending pursuit. Azkadellia had the power to drown the rivers in blood and set the trees on fire, but he knew this power warped her mind, fed her hunger for it, and wanted to avoid such outcome to the bitter end.

"You should sleep," she suggested, still kneeled by the fireplace, comforted by the cracking of wood beneath the flames. "I have had enough dreams for a lifetime, but you require rest."

Zero turned to her, only seeing her backside from where he stood. His nostrils quivered a bit in response to the sight of her, his expression softened. Not many words had been exchanged during their long ride. The noise from the skies, the cruel rain and the noise of trotting feet had covered any attempts of discussing beneath them. Her voice was pleasant to listen to though; that he had not forgotten.

"We will be chased. I would rather die on my feet than on my back," he responded with amusement, watching as she turned to him with smoldering eyes, questioning his words.

"But what a pleasant death it would be," she responded, thinking something else entirely than sleep. He smiled at this, at her ability to relax him so, for even in the face of unnerving tension it was rather she who exhilarated him than their continuing escape and the threat of discovery.

He remained at his post by the window, yet he was unbothered by their approaching chasers anymore. Zero devoured her skin with his eyes, glad for the rain for prying the useless layers of clothing from her. Azkadellia acknowledged his desire, could read it from the way he looked at her, his body language telling tales of unforgettable thirst she did not object to.

Her playfulness vanished, was replaced by somber calmness. He saw her struggle with this, witnessed the way she rehearsed her lines in silence, before speaking them aloud.

"There will be rules," Azkadellia said, glancing at him expectantly.

At the tower everything had been clear and simple, but she understood it really wasn't. They could not go back to the way things had been; new ground had to be established, a new way of living.

"As there always have been," he responded with a husky voice, accepting her words.

Zero wasn't surprised by her need to control this. Rules and conditions were always there with her, always justified those sweet moments of torment when he'd been able to reach her. He knew no victory was earned without terms; no acquiescent came from unconditioned surrender, not with her. Depraved from control, as he'd recently discovered, she yearned for it wholly, and he revered her for her ability to take it.

"No killing," she named her first rule.

He had killed many in her name, men and women both deserving and undeserving of their fates. Her bloodlust had always been greater still. Zero had simply been the instrument of her will.

"Not even to save you?" he asked, teasing her, as the serious subject and the unrest it caused in her was unbecoming.

She didn't replicate his smirk though. Her expression remained dead serious.

"No mind games," Azkadellia said, clearly having given this some thought.

He inched closer to her now, curious at the sight of her very visible restraint. The mischievous streak in his character rejoiced in this opportunity to turns things around. He wanted to unnerve her, just a little bit.

"You're the one who keeps playing them," he told her softly, still reacting to her requests with jest and quips. He was starting to see the pattern here now though, to realize what this was about.

"We don't stir up trouble," Azkadellia continued in spite of his remarks, needing to name the terms, the contract that would bind them.

She understood that trouble was something they both vehemently craved for though. Recovering from the mindset that remained from the good old days was a necessity. And yet they were creatures born of fire; everything in their path was consumed but themselves: Lovers, enemies, allies, innocent bystanders.

"If that's what you want," he then told her, catching her attention with his slow movement as he began to approach her. "Anything you want."

Azkadellia shuddered at the sound of his promise, how he didn't even hesitate to speak it. "It's different this time," she hurried to explain. Zero reached her now, and she offered him her hands. He took them, helping her up, while his eyes appreciated the sight of her, feeling more intimate than an actual caress.

He could see the skin of her bosom glisten with moisture, the side of her face also dripping water from her hair, but when she straightened before him his eyes became set on her angled face, her surreal beauty matched in her fierce determination and intelligence. Azkadellia's hands held onto his upper arms suddenly, and she inched herself closer to him. Behind her the fire breathed warmth towards their bodies, providing long desired comfort.

"Balance must be maintained. I can't become what I was. Not again," she told him, her unyielding opinion reflected in the way she held herself, even as he still held her hands to support her.

At this Zero laughed heartily, "And yet the rules are for me."

Because he was the one who could tempt her back into sin, because by controlling him she might control herself. Azkadellia had never seen herself as a cornerstone, as something to depend on, yet she had been that for him all along.

"You don't need to say it," he whispered to her. "I know."

His assurance was gentle, forgiving. He didn't inflame her with shame or treat her conviction for change as anything but necessary. Hadn't they always fit together well, like pieces of the same puzzle? She would lead and he would follow. Her lead wasn't kind, and sometimes he would work himself to his limits to reach her goals where others would give up and falter, yet to them it was something more than just the chain of command. To them it was the way things were supposed to be. People called it sickness and addiction, but they were content themselves.

He wanted to be ruled, he needed to be restrained, just like she needed to be restrained. If she needed to control him in order to control herself, he would comply. She had once unleashed him so it was only appropriate she would keep him under control now.

"Do you accept these rules?" she asked him.

A silent song within her played, speaking only the language of longing, of fragile desire. They had been so close in the tower, playing their game of cat and mouse within his cell. Each caress was remembered, each kiss revered, and their effects had not yet dissipated from their bodies. She became aflame so easily, with a single look, a single word.

Hadn't that been the reason she had been alone? Because no one else could enjoy her dominance and keep coming back for more, because with him the desire to do so wasn't a perversion, but the most natural thing. Even now, with Zero looking down at her intently, waiting to express his submission, she was aroused by him.

"Yes."

She pressed lightly against his chest, feeling the way it wet the front of her camisole, framing the shape of her breasts visible, in reminiscent of their meeting once. It had rained then too. Zero saw this; the sight fed his growing appetite and his body reacted accordingly. His expression was wolfish now, his breathing becoming thicker and thicker. It warmed her face, but its warmth was fleeting.

Knowing exactly what he thought, she put some space between them, giving him a better view of her, and held his hands, pulling him closer to the fire. Zero placed his large hand on her cheek, feeling its smoothness with his skin. He kissed her then, closing his eyes for once, trusting that she would no longer push him away. Her body arched onto his, embraced his unrelenting figure.

When she released his hand, it quickly made its way around her waist, through the moist layers of her dress, cupping her back, searching for the strings to release her camisole. She rubbed her lips against his, allowed his tongue access to her mouth. The tip of his tongue flicked against her teeth, swirled around her tongue. He sensed her approval from the way she inhaled deeper and angled his head more to deepen the kiss.

Azkadellia brought her hands to his chest when he finally broke the kiss. She began opening the buttons of his shirt, enamored by his silent reverie of her graces. Something behind her tickled her back and then she felt the fabric of her camisole loosen. He tugged at the strings, releasing her top and then pushing it down her waist, his eyes wholly consumed by the sight of her beauty. A warm hand quickly enclosed her breast, spreading warmth and affection to it. Her nipples had hardened in the cold, but now they greeted his hands even more erect and one was quickly found by his hand. He began to rub on it softly while she finished opening his shirt.

Giving him a commanding look, Azkadellia made him stop and she pushed the shirt from his shoulders, pulling it down his hands while he stood by patiently, his hands straight and his mischievous eyes targeting her. Once the shirt fell down, she ran her hand across his middle, brushing against his chest hair in a pleasurable way. Her hand reached his neck, climbing all the way to his face before it stopped and she rose to her toes to kiss him. Their bodies pressed together, and she could feel the torturous presence of his arousal press against her stomach.

One of his hands began to gather the layers of her dress as they kissed, pulling it up in her front until his hand could slip beneath it. His fingers quickly found her heated center, finding it moist and slick as proof of her responsiveness to his affections. He pushed a finger between her folders, watched it elicit breathy moans from her and repeated the action once or twice before he began rubbing her lightly. He ended their kiss to witness her reaction, finding her so divine in the midst of her pleasure; her eyes were practically buzzing with pleasure now, a faint rosy tint on her cheeks.

Her hand reached for the front of his trousers, caressing the bulge there with a wicked smile. She increased the pressure, moving her own legs further apart as he continued his action. Then she pulled his trousers aside, bringing his arousal to plain view and closing its base within her fist. Zero was excited; he dared her to go further wordlessly, while pushing a single digit inside her, making her wince at the unexpected sensation. She returned his dare and began to move her hand in a pumping motion around his length. At first her rhythm was slower, and then she increased her strength and speed. Zero continued to stroke her folds, teasing her entrance.

She leaned against him after enjoying the slow torture for awhile, whispering in his ear, "On the floor."

He stopped, glancing around him, eventually watching as she sat down by the fire, her eyes cast on him. Zero descended to his knees soon after, moving over her after she laid her back on the floor, suddenly closing his lips around her nipple. His free hand began to knead her other breast lightly, and he switched after awhile, content in her sound of her moaning. Azkadellia bit her lip lightly, trying to keep still, even as his arousal was pressed against her thigh, reminding her of what was yet to come. Her sighs were throaty, full of lust. With each suck and twirl of tongue around her nipple she could feel a pressure building between her legs, the slickness between them also increasing by the moment.

She grabbed his length again, continuing to pump it with her hand, slowly inching his hips closer to hers. He removed his mouth from her nipple after awhile, stopped to look at her enraptured face, which was when she moved his arousal to her entrance with her hand, raising her chin at him. Her black hair was laid around her head, her clothes pushed to her hips and stomach in bundles: A vision of disorder, but what a lovely vision indeed.

She pushed her hips upwards sharply, pushing him inside her. Zero's face betrayed the delirium of this moment, her warmth so inviting once enveloped around his length. He recovered quickly though, beginning a steady rhythm, moving in and out, kissing her face and neck and shoulders as he moved. His movement only increased the pleasant burning inside her and she did her best to push her hips into his thrusts to deepen the motion.

"Come here," she pleaded, inviting his lips closer as he clutched her breast, feeling his release approach. Sweat drops gathered at his brow and he no longer knew cold.

Suddenly Azkadellia pushed him over, climbing atop him. She settled to sit on his hips, still very much connected to him. Zero stared at her from the floor, his eyes never leaving her body. He held onto her hips at first as she rode him. She was perfection like that: untethered and wild. He moved his hands to her breasts, holding them as she moved, squeezing her nipples between fingers, knowing how much she loved it when he did this.

And when she rode him towards his release, gently tucking him over that cliff, she felt him push against her, his movement frantic and then suddenly ceased all together. At this point she quickly took charge, working her own weak spot with a repeating mechanical motion until her eyes were fluttering and strength fled her. Covered in sweat, her undergarment stained in their bodily fluids and smelling of sex all over, she rose from him, putting herself on the floor beside him. Zero leaned back, watched the world spin before his eyes.

And when she laid her hand on his chest, he rolled to his side, pulling her closer, shielding her with his body. Azkadellia's eyes were open, awake. She waited for his approval as nervously as she had on their first night, almost endearing in her insecurity. He kissed her, ran his hand across her back, brushed her nipples with his calloused thumbs, and held onto that satisfied smile.

She was very vulnerable like this, and always had been. It no longer mattered though. Even as tears prickled her eyes, she looked at him bravely. Defeated, disgraced, but they were together regardless.

"I will come to you every night," he murmured in her ear, "as long as you let me, Azkadellia."

"Just stay with me," she told him in return, closing her eyes.

Sleep claimed her soon after, the intrusive rain sounding a lullaby. He guarded her sleep, not quite ready to dream yet. He feared sleep, feared finding a timeless creature in her stead, no matter how foolish such fears were. It would take him time to sleep by her, to know no fear.

They were two against the world as he did not yet know of their deaths that would release them from their painful history.

TBC