A.N. Yep, this is the first of the final two chapters where Bellamont is no more than an unpleasant memory to the survivors of the Black Hand. But there are still a few things that need wrapping up. I also felt that I owed you guys at least one proper scene that justifies the M rating. ^_^ A big Thank you to all those who have been reading and reviewing. Next to my favorite Speaker, you guys have been my inspiration and driving force to continue with this fic. :)
Hello Poppy. ^_^ Although Lucien/Antoinetta scenes were the very scenes that I wanted to write most and still do, they were/are the most challenging for me. So, it makes me happy to know that you enjoyed them. And yes, Antoinetta is like a loyal poppy when it comes to Lucien. There is nothing I love in the world more than a loyal dog or a devoted wolf. And perhaps that's why Lucien in my fics always reserves his tender side to those who love him even to the extent of fault. He may be a ruthless assassin, but he will have to live with my characterizations while he breathes in my own fic. :D Thank you as always for your delightful input. Hopefully, you will like Lucien/Antoinetta scene in this chapter.
Chapter Twenty-One
The surprisingly spacious living quarter is now a misshapen shadow of its former glory. Most of the once elegant and comfortable furniture has been broken beyond any hope of repair. Even the bright red cushions and throws have not escaped the effect of the bloody struggle that took place not so long ago. Their beauty has been tarnished by the darker shade of red the exact origin of which cannot be determined. At least though, there is a shared sense of relief in the air, which is now warm with the welcoming heat from the stone hearth. The place is also considerably brighter; all the torches and lanterns mounted on the walls are lit and candles burn on every available surface that has preserved steady flatness.
The far left corner of the room is, however, still intact. The double bed stands solid, and its satin covers wrap the belly and thighs of its owner, who has blissfully passed out. Lucien's tall figure looms over Banus' unconscious form, his hands hovering over the mer's chest and his eyes half closed in concentration. The Anvil Speaker's life is no longer in danger. Antoinetta's potions took care of that. He will recover and live even if Lucien withdraws the treatment. The Imperial continues regardless, even as he feels his magicka has almost run out.
Truth be told, he does not care whether the dark elf lives or dies. Not now when Bellamont is no more. And certainly not after he has seen …
Yet, it matters whether Banus will carry the physical scars. Lucien practically poured all his healing potions on the mer, beginning from the face and neck and rubbing the fluid over and over all the visible gashes. Any further delay, and the scars would have been permanent. He was determined not to let that happen. Not because their presence would make the mer even less tolerable …
but because they will be a invariable reminder of how helpless the Black Hand was against the threat within and how utterly useless his struggles against the spiteful web of Fate could have been. He could pretend Arquen never existed. He could make believe that Belisarius never made a Silencer. With Banus, it simply will not do, unless he can excuse himself from every single Black Hand meeting. Be that may, he can at least wipe clean any visible blemish that is left behind after the legacy of Bellamont.
"We have more potions, Speaker," Antoinetta shouts from the opposite corner, proudly lifting up files of blue liquid from Arquen's bag found beneath a collapsed couch. Her hurried footsteps, however, stop in mid stride, interrupted by a familiar silky voice.
"You have not changed much, Sister. I was concerned that you might not be the same charming Antoinetta."
Vicente's elegant form enters into the scene, causing Antoinetta's eyes to widen in surprise. A slow smile appears and deepens on both faces as they stare at each other. Antoinetta would have given him a genuinely warm embrace if she had not noticed a dark robed mer stepping into the room. She settles for returning the vampire's complement. They both live to tell the tale. There will be plenty of time to engage in deep conversation.
"You look rather well yourself, Brother."
Vicente quickly scans the room before staring straight into Lucien's eyes, who has temporarily discontinued his unenviable chore in recognition of Ungolim's appearance. Emotions, all tangled together, rage inside the vampire. He thought his still heart would only feel bitterness at the sight of the Imperial. He was wrong. So very wrong. He feels, more than anything, relieved and proud. His star pupil survived the crisis that almost destroyed the very core of the Brotherhood and came out as the winner. The sense of anger and disappointment, nevertheless, has not subsided. It still burns and burns with a profound intensity. I thought you better than the rest of the Hand. And you behaved in the exact same manner.
Not now, Brother. Lucien knows Vicente deserves his attention. All the same, he turns his gaze away and seeks Ungolim's permission to carry on fixing Banus. Having obtained the consent, Lucien's attention is back on the task at hand. He is thankful that Antoinetta found the necessary potions in time and applies ample amounts to any remaining cuts.
"How inappropriate," Vicente comments unsympathetically, watching the Imperial's skilled hands working on such unfamiliar territory as healing. "You repay the devotion of your subordinates by ordering their sacrifice. Yet, you've been wasting your precious magicka over a mer … who would have been quite happy to eliminate you on the basis of a forged order. He would have been no wiser than Arquen. Surely, you should have known?"
"Make yourself useful, Brother," Lucien makes a curt reply, his impassive gaze never leaving his patient. "The quicker I can wipe away the final traces of the traitor, the sooner you can attend your business with me."
A few moments of tense silence pass before the vampire breaks the stalemate. Vicente has yet to forgive his former pupil, but at least some things are beginning to make sense.
"In that case, Speaker Lachance, I offer to finish your project. It occurs to me that you could do with a rest."
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The bodies still need to be buried or, in Bellamont's case, need to be disposed of. Nevertheless, the survivors must continue to play their role, even as their life means the death of others. The Black Hand business must be discussed. The vacant positions should be filled.
"If you wish, we could delay the discussion till this evening. From what I have heard, both of you must be extremely fatigued. It will also be beneficial to have Banus present," Ungolim suggests to his Speakers.
Presently, they are seated around a small wooden table, next to a few bookshelves and a small writing desk. Though there is plenty of lighting available in the room, not a single candle or lantern is lit. They chose to keep the small space dark for their eyes' comfort and use less intrusive Night-eye spells to read each other's expressions. Ungolim looks the most drained out of the three. Two more deaths weigh heavily on his mind, even as he is relieved that no more catastrophes await them.
"I believe we need to talk about the Anvil Sanctuary before Banus can make the meeting," J'Ghasta interrupts quickly, leaning forward and whispering inconspicuously.
There is a slim chance that Banus would hear them even if he were awake. The small chamber, which may be called a library, is located some distance away from the living quarters, with three sets of heavy-wood doors in between. Still, J'Ghasta knows how important creating the right atmosphere can be.
"He will probably not request a transfer to another Sanctuary for fear of showing signs of weakness. It will be, however, beneficial for him to leave Anvil and take his position elsewhere."
Lucien is amused by J'Ghasta's opportunistic proposition but says nothing of it. Ungolim nods his agreement. Whatever J'Ghasta's motives may be, it makes sense to put Banus in charge of another Sanctuary.
"Then, you will be happy to oversee the Anvil Sanctuary?"
J'Ghasta tries his best to hide his glee and answers the Listener with the look of a dutiful servant.
"I will of course be happy wherever the Brotherhood requires my presence."
"The Anvil Sanctuary is yours, J'Ghasta. We will discuss minor details of the takeover this evening. I shall require your presence here just after sunset. Now, let me have a few private words with Lucien."
"So, tell me, my friend," Ungolim begins, a short while after J'Ghasta's exit. "Do you believe Sithis has spoken to Antoinetta?"
The Listener is of course curious about what he suspects are visions that rendered Lucien vulnerable at crucial moments. He will not enquire about it, however. The almost obsessive way Lucien was treating Banus' injuries tells him that his subordinate will not welcome the subject. He has an inkling that it must have been a message of sort from the Night Mother and that it was intended solely for Lucien. Knowing how the Night Mother loves her favoured children, he doubts that the meaning was something of a comforting nature.
"That is the only plausible explanation that we can think of. I heard a report of such nature before. I couldn't be sure of its validity at the time," Lucien replies, wondering where this conversation may lead.
"Then, she will make an able Speaker… some day. There is something I need to tell you. I have asked Vicente to be my Silencer and he accepted. That leaves the running of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary somewhat challenging. There is also a problem with the Bravil Sanctuary. We will struggle to find a Speaker for the Sanctuary since I intend to send Banus to Bruma. There is Havilstein of course, but he is not cut out to be a Speaker. Besides, I would like to have you near me."
You wish to close the Cheydinhal Sanctuary for the time being. Lucien feels too exhausted to think with clarity concerning the advantages and disadvantages of such a move to the Brotherhood as a whole. He can only consider what it will mean to Antoinetta. She will have enough time to train as a future Speaker with a place secured for her when she is ready. That is good enough reason to accept Ungolim's proposal.
"I would be happy to take charge of the Bravil Sanctuary."
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Comforting darkness greets Lucien as he reluctantly opens his eyes. The room was light and airy when he arrived in the early morning. The three large windows with decorative wooden trellis are now all covered by hanging carpets that originally were draped across the sidewalls. He intended to sleep well and was in no mood to change the furniture around. The idea of placing a bed directly below the windows is unfortunately popular with publicans.
Lucien's eyes habitually scan the large luxurious room, starting from the pleasingly high ornate ceiling, till they land on an unobtrusive figure seated on a high-back chair near the door.
"How long have you been there?"
Lucien rented the entire upper floor of the Count's Arms for the whole day. He did not want any prying ears around. Not when all he wanted to do was to bury himself inside Antoinetta and make her whimper with pleasure and desire. Nevertheless, he had to tell her to sleep in the next room. Neither of them was in any fitting state to indulge in the kind of corporeal activity he had in mind.
"Not long, Speaker. It could not have been longer than half an hour."
"I must be losing my touch. You sneaked into the room without waking me up," Lucien observes bemusedly.
"I had brought some stew from downstairs, just in case you wanted something tastier than potatoes and apples."
"Come here," Lucien commands, lifting himself up into a sitting position and leaning against the headboard.
Lucien's appetite has returned, but it is not for food. He is hungry for Antoinetta, hungry for the soft feel of her bare curves and the feverish longing that intensifies with his every touch.
"You are wearing your armour," Lucien remarks somewhat gruffly, raising his hand to stop her coming nearer as she reaches the raised platform where the bed is situated.
"It really is no trouble to get out of this, Speaker. That is, if you wish to see me without it," Antoinetta replies, trying to steady her voice that is heavy with need.
"Then, take it off."
How on earth did I manage to seduce him? Antoinetta wonders while her fingers are busy ridding herself of the unwelcoming clothing. Even the thought of his piercing gaze roaming over her bare form is enough to make the simple task tediously difficult. Her nimble fingers suddenly feel clumsy as her body succumbs to the scorching desire that has taken over her mind.
Lucien takes his time to drink in her naked features, greatly enjoying the way she shivers with anticipation. He realises he does not need to lift a finger to set her on fire. Every fibre of her being yearns for his attention as though she was born to be caressed by him, as though she could not be whole without his warmth.
You belong to me.
"Turn around."
Antoinetta hears him remove his nightgown and soon feels his presence directly behind her. She has no will to suppress the stream of moans and gasps that escape her lips, as Lucien slowly runs his palm over the length of her back and down on to her round buttocks while his teeth lightly graze her skin. As Lucien continues his assault on her soft flesh, the light caress turns into a hard squeeze and gentle grazing becomes harder nibbling. Antoinetta is almost beside herself with the need to be taken. She is surprised that she can stand at all, that her knees can still bear her weight.
"How would you like me, Antoinetta?" Lucien whispers seductively, after finally allowing her to lie down on the bed. His expression betrays nothing of the maddening desire to be inside her.
"I would like you to take possession of me," she whispers back, blushing furiously at her utter lack of self-control. Lucien has no trouble in reducing her to nothing but a whimpering wreck.
That I already have, my little Antoinetta. Lucien, however, has no wish to delay their joining any further. She is more than ready to accept him.
"That I cannot possibly disagree to," Lucien replies, before taking the deep plunge into her and relishing the visible relief on her face.
You belong to me and will always remain so.