A/N: Rorek lays down the law. XD
(8)
The scroll's enchantment is difficult to decipher, but with my Gift of Tongues I am able to read it in the way no other sorcerer could. The ancient words used for this spell are very strange and their meaning is too complex to explain with any of the common languages I know. To place what is here to be there, to say you are this, to make your flesh a number, to put to a word the image, sound, smell, taste, and feel of a single moment. This is one word. I can explain it no other way.
I have developed a version of the spell that I believe I can use but I do not know that it will work the same way. It feels as though a blank scroll will not work. There must be words already available.
~ Excerpt from Rorek's memoirs.
(O)
Chapter 54 – Need
"That was, hands down, the WEIRDEST dream I have ever had! Including the one where Trigon was wearing a skirt of fish scales and a thorny traffic cone on his head!" Raven exclaimed. "Why did I do that? You would think I'd know by now not to let the healers experiment on me! Maartuz, why is it that Advil does nothing but I take any distinct amount of a hallucinogen and I'm watching the little square bubbles trying to float to the window to check the weather?-!"
Arella was laughing. Rorek was trying not to but it would take more than a scarf and steady gaze for him to fool her senses. "But you are not in pain, are you?" he forwarded.
She wasn't, actually. Not much, anyway. Oh there was a small pocket there at the moment but it wasn't nearly as much as it had been. She was also sure most of that pain was from the fact that she was sitting upright. Her body really wanted her to lay back down but she wanted to be back in the Tower as soon as possible so she was determined to prove that she could sit up by herself. So the painkiller lasted longer than the hallucinations. That was good. But she wasn't about to risk that again. At least she didn't remember any opiate-induced dreams. She was trying to forget these but she had the feeling they were going to stick in her memory. It hadn't been a bad dream/hallucination, just very, very weird.
"Rorek, will you take off your scarf a moment again? I want to make sure I have your markings right." Arella said after Raven's grudging grunt of affirmation.
"As you wish." Rorek said, pulling his scarf down and facing Arella so she could get a good look. This meant that his back was now to Raven, who couldn't help but note that, as he was standing right next to her bed and, given the height of the bed, his backside was within reach. The temptation was overwhelming. Fortunately (or unfortunately for the sake of comedic reactions), she was all but physically incapable of actually doing anything. Too many years of self-effacing conditioning kept her hand where it was.
Satisfied, Arella nodded and finished putting away her supplies. "I am going to send this out to be framed. I'll be back shortly." she told them brusquely. She put a cover over the painting and bound it up before turning to fold up the metal easel.
"Should the painting not be left to dry?" Rorek asked worriedly.
"Azarathian paint dries quite swiftly when it is in a thin layer. I'm not sure how it is made but it is very convenient." she answered. She packed everything up into a sub-space gem on her belt and slipped out of the suite.
"Lie down, My Love. You've made your point." Rorek told her gently once Arella was gone. "I will tell Cyborg to bring the chair as soon as it is finished. I think he has a few more things he wishes to add to it but it should be ready shortly."
Raven allowed her grateful body to rest back on the pillows. She could still feel the lingering fatigue, like her body would be quite happy to do no more than sleep for the rest of the week if only she'd let it. "Are you sure I'm going to be stuck in a chair for several weeks?" she asked.
"You are recovering rapidly, My Love. That is the only reason I do not think it will be for a few months." He leaned over and kissed her forehead.
She sighed. Oh well, it could be worse. She could be dead.
Deciding she wanted a bit more than a kiss on the forehead, Raven reached up with her right hand as Rorek drew back and grabbed the scarf hanging down around his neck, tugging. It was all the incentive he needed. He gave her a smile that made her heart thump loudly in her chest and caught her lips up with his. One hand braced against her headboard, his other came around to stroke her cheek while she draped her right arm around his neck. She closed her eyes and felt her body relax as his lips gently massaged hers. She responded as best she could, matching his movements or trying to flow with them. There was a bit of awkward confusion as she tried to figure out which lip was going where but at least Rorek knew what he was doing. He broke away only to come back again, repeating the process a few times before settling into a position where his head was slightly tilted for better purchase. The lingering kiss was sweet and loving right up until she felt a little pressure as something wet began trailing the slight gap between her lips, seeking entry. Then it took on a new flavor, literally. She opened her lips to him and was rewarded with the taste of winter as his tongue filled her mouth. She sucked on it a little, rolling her own tongue around it in an effort to reciprocate. She felt him shiver and got something between a groan and a growl in response.
They broke apart for a moment to get their breath back, though not that far apart. There was barely an inch of room between them and she could feel his cool breath on her lips.
"Is Malchior awake?" she murmured.
Rorek smiled slightly. "Yes. And very…aware." he added delicately. "He is a bit irate. He says that it is not fair I claimed the last kiss before all of this began and now I have you all to myself afterwards."
"Tell him I'll try to make it up to him." she said as their lips came back together.
"What is the meaning of this?-!" a voice cracked out like a whip of lightening. It was so sharp that it made them jump and Rorek jerked upright, nearly pulling Raven up with him since her arm had still been around his neck.
"Madam Crux, please! I am going to have to insist that you leave if you do not keep your voice down."
"Young man, how dare you! Healer, I insist that you throw him out at once!"
"Madam, that's Rorek. I can't do that."
Raven closed her eyes. Really? I mean, really? The universe is honestly going to go through with this? Didn't Arella tell me time and time again to leave Madam Crux to her? Well if she's not back in the next two seconds I won't be able to comply with that wish. When she opened them again she saw Rorek had his scarf back in place and his eyes looked extremely annoyed.
"What?-! But you saw him! He is taking advantage of poor Raven's disability! Out! Out!"
Madam Crux was a big woman but she was very handsome as well. She did not have more than a touch of Asian in her looks, but it was enough for her dark hair and almond-shaped eyes. That was where it stopped, though, because all the other features were, well, American. Which meant that they were a mix of so many other things you couldn't pick one shape out from another without forensic analysis. America was a melting pot. The only minorities you found these days were people who complained about being a minority and therefore kept reminding the next generations that such a thing as a minority existed.
She also wore big expensive (and expansive) dresses. Not with the huge skirts and bustle or anything, but there was quite a lot of fabric there and quite a few colors as well.
"I also notice that Magister Roth is not complaining." the healer said patiently.
Magister Roth? When did I become a Magister? Raven wondered, taken aback by this.
Rorek turned and looked directly at Raven so his spill words were loud and clear. 'If that woman is not out of here in the next ten seconds I am going to do something I will very much regret.'
"You and me both." Raven muttered as Madam Crux turned to argue with the healer. "Maybe if we ignore her she'll go away." she whispered.
Rorek's head dipped and his shoulders shook with laughter that he was doing his best to keep internal. He took her hand in his and laced his fingers through hers.
"He is who?" came Madam Crux's sharp demand. Both Raven and Rorek winced.
'I am told I have Red X to thank for the revelation of my identity.' Rorek's spill words came out rather grumpy.
"Yeah, sorry about that."
"I don't care if he's Merlin himself! Raven is to be my daughter-in-law and this behavior can hardly be tolerated!"
Raven gripped Rorek's hand and pulled him back before he could turn around and make a popsicle out of Madam Crux. Then she sat up so she could get a look at the woman from around Rorek. Madam Crux caught her eye, opened her mouth, and stopped abruptly.
"Get. Out." snarled The Other.
Suddenly realizing just how suicidal it was to repeatedly ignore reports of the personal wishes of an extremely powerful half-demon daughter of Trigon, Madam Crux was gone. In fact, it was almost comical how swiftly she left. Apparently, despite how self-absorbed and pompous the woman was, her instinct for self-preservation was still a strong enough force to send her bolting.
The healer goggled, mouth and eyes both wide open. Raven closed her four glowing red eyes and then opened her two normal ones. "I probably shouldn't have done that." she sighed.
The healer shrugged, a grin spreading across her face. "Hey, whatever works." And then she slapped a hand over her face in an attempt to stifle the laughter. She tried to tell them to call if they needed her but couldn't get the words out and simply left, shaking her head.
"So…was that The Other or was that simply you pretending to be The Other?" Rorek asked her.
"I am The Other, or The Other is part of me. I'm not sure how to explain it. I think what happened there was simply that the two of us were in close accord and I was able to sort of dip into her without actually becoming her. Like having two surfaces so close together that you can reach out and touch the other surface without actually leaving your own." she answered. "Either that or I'm just getting really good at controlling it. We aren't two people. We aren't even two people with joined souls. We are one person, one soul. She is simply another part of me, a part that I keep safely stored away until I need her. It isn't like having two bowls full of marbles, it's one bowl of marbles with a little box sitting next to it containing a specific color of marble. Does that make sense?"
"In a way, yes. So you can bring her out when you wish and return her when she is no longer necessary?" he asked curiously.
"Something like that." she answered.
(O)
Cyborg had had help from Azarathian technicians in the making of Raven's chair. He'd needed it because some of the features he'd wanted to give it did not yet exist as technology and so magic was required. First and foremost was the levitation ability. Oh it had wheels that could be brought out and put to use, but the T-tower had way too many steps and stairs and Cyborg, bless him, knew how much Raven would hate having to rely on someone else to get her up and down them. So instead of attaching jet packs to the bottom (because setting the tower on fire was generally frowned upon) the Azarathian technicians had gotten a large number of stones made with a specific enchantment which tied in nicely to the control panel on the right arm of the chair.
This was only the most practical and necessary of the additions. Others included the ability to turn the wheelchair into an armchair big enough for two people (at least, in Raven's opinion. A big guy like Cyborg would find it a perfect size) that could lean so far back it practically turned into a bed, a small snacks cabinet, a mini fridge with room for half a dozen soda cans or three bottles, a massage feature to prevent her limbs from falling asleep, a built-in computer that could be directly connected to her computer in the T-Tower by way of some virtual machine software, and a number of other small additions included to ensure that she wouldn't need to leave her chair for any reason.
Raven had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking if it had a built-in toilet and shower. She was half convinced that, if she did, Cyborg would request another day to get those features included. Besides, if she had to she could clean and, ahem, clear herself with magic. She just never liked to because it seemed like such a stupid thing to waste her magic on when she was perfectly capable of getting up and going to the bathroom for these necessities.
A special cast and sling were made for her still completely immobile arm. She was dressed in a comfortable black T-shirt and sweatpants on the basis that her usual outfit would be a bit too constraining and difficult to work with in the ablutions department. Her cast and sling were also black, a point that Beast Boy noticed and complained about.
"What's the point of signing your cast when the marker won't show up?-!" he demanded, waving the aforesaid marker accusingly at Raven. She just shrugged. That was when she noticed she still had the use of her left shoulder.
"Rorek, why is it that the poison has affected my arm so badly but I can still use my shoulder?" she asked. Come to that, you'd think the poison would have gotten into her torso as well, maybe even her head.
"Because your left arm had the least protection considering the iron ring rusted off and the Nibelungen ring was on your right hand." he answered. "I am quite sure Mother Mayhem believed her poison would get into your heart and kill you. Which it likely would have done otherwise. As it is, I think it only severely affected everything that was an inch or two below your shoulder."
And that was also when Raven realized she was now wearing both rings again. She decided not to ask why she needed them. She didn't need them, not anymore. But she had grown a bit attached and might be just a bit reluctant to let them go should the twins ask for them back.
"Lucky break for you, huh?" Jinx asked, grinning. She had her communicator out again and was holding it on its side. "By the way, would you stop that? Seriously, Raven. It's creepy."
"I'll stop when you stop trying to get pictures of me in a wheelchair." Raven stated.
"What is she do—WHOA!" Beast Boy exclaimed, jerking away from whatever image was appearing on Jinx's camera. Raven wasn't too sure what was actually showing up, but she guessed there was a lot of distortion, some images that typically required a lot of video editing software and some CGI animation, and perhaps only vague flickers of her appearance as something other than a girl sitting in a wheelchair.
"Question: Why are you making Rorek look like one of those glang?" Jinx asked.
"Because I figured that would creep you out the most." Raven lied. But, 'I'm not actually doing that, it's these Shadows, see? And they're probably making Rorek look like one of the glang they ate.' was probably not a good idea. "Just turn it off."
"Oh fine." Jinx sighed.
Rorek was pushing her wheelchair for her and, at the moment, it pretty much looked like a wheelchair. A sleek black one that was a bit thicker in the frame than you might expect, but it was a wheelchair nonetheless. She decided to go ahead and let him. She really didn't feel much like figuring out the movement controls at the moment and, in all honesty, her body really, really wanted her to lay back down and go back to sleep despite the fact that she'd just woken up from a 12-hour nap and was really hungry. Right now their group consisted of Rorek, Jinx, Beast Boy, Cyborg, Lady Eisen, and Nightwing. They were headed for the cafeteria where they'd be meeting up with Arella. Raven wondered if the painting had been framed yet and hoped to Iiam Bormah that, if it had and Arella had brought it, there was a cover over it.
Someone was listening to her prayers because, when they met up, Arella produced the canvas wrapped in plain tan cloth. Raven took it and put it in the sub-space pocket she was currently wearing on her wrist. Rorek had detached it from her belt for her and had even made the band out of gold. Not pure gold, obviously, but it did shine enough to get attention. She just hoped no one realized it was gold and not brass or bronze with that special polish. Rorek might give his gold to Raven but she was pretty sure a dragon would be mighty reluctant to give very much to anyone else, especially when he knew that getting more would be a bit difficult.
The conversation was pleasant enough but Raven couldn't seem to concentrate. She was able to eat her food but after that her eyelids just wouldn't stay open. She tried to keep listening with her eyes closed but it just wasn't working. She kept drifting off, waking up every few minutes knowing full well that she wasn't fooling anyone. But, for the sake of her pride, they pretended not to notice. The chair had been leaned back for her and a pillow had popped up from somewhere in the mechanics that braced her head. It wasn't in full sofa mode since that would make it difficult to maneuver around but it was way too comfortable to stay awake in. Eventually she gave up and succumbed to sleep.
(O)
She hadn't been using her dreamscape lately. She hadn't really been able to since she was nodding off to sleep too swiftly to catch herself. However, this didn't seem to be a problem anymore. So far as she could tell her dreams were free of all perceivable god activity, and she was pretty sure she'd know if they weren't. Those dreams were way too vivid and stuck in the mind. So whichever god or, as it might be, titan that had been trying to contact her had either given up or no longer had the strength.
She still needed to tell the twins about the god in the mirror. Probably it'd been a god, though for all she knew it could have been a titan. Whatever it was, it hadn't been the same as the god that kept trying to contact Raven in her dreams. Raven never got a good look at that one but she was pretty sure that it'd been male.
She remembered that dream she had where Trigon kept trying to convince her to help them. But it hadn't really been Trigon at all, had it? That was just a dream. A weird dream that she remembered a bit too clearly, but a dream nonetheless. Unless, of course, Trigon was somehow talking to her via her stomach, haha. If she'd known then what she knew now it was likely Trigon would have told her that he needed mustard or something.
That seemed to have become a running joke between her and the twins. 'Let's eat our parents! Where's the mustard?'
These things passed through her mind as she drifted in that pleasant state that was somewhere between sleep and wakefulness. It was a pleasant state to be in. She always felt like, in a way, she got her clearest thinking done like this. Outside meditation, that is. Perhaps it was because her body was still in a resting state so the brain didn't have quite as much to do as usual. Admittedly her thinking wasn't particularly swift, she often repeated herself in her own head, and she couldn't stay focused on any one thing for too long, but there was simply a feeling of clarity, even if she couldn't choose what she was clear about.
She was waking up, though. She could feel her blood start to pump a bit faster and some motor control was returning to her limbs. Well, most of them. She opened her eyes and wondered, for a moment, what her bed was doing in the T-Tower's living room. Then she realized she wasn't in her bed but the wheelchair's bed. It was pretty comfortable too. It wasn't laid out completely flat since this was, in fact, a chair, but it was pretty close. It had its own pillow and big fluffy blanket both built in, the blanket being electrically powered. There was something special about the blanket, what was it? Oh, right. It was designed to either heat or cool the body based on the temperature of said body and the desired temperature entered into the control panel. It wasn't a perfect design. After all, you took care of a fever by keeping the body warm and the head cool. So it was more like a personal air conditioner than a temperature regulator. But Raven was amazed at just how much thought and effort Cyborg had put into this thing. She was also amazed by how fast he'd built it, but he had been working with the Azarathian technicians for much of it and they tended to cheat, IE: use magic.
At the moment it was a bit warm. Fortunately the temperature controls got an automatic shortcut whenever the blanket option was engaged and it only took her a few seconds to wake up enough to lower the desired temperature a degree or two.
She heard movement next to her as someone was stirring in their sleep. She looked over and saw Rorek was sleeping on the couch, pillow and blanket and all. He even had his scarf off. The light from her control panel must have woken him up because he blinked a little and looked over at her.
It was then that she realized that it was nighttime. She glanced outside the window and saw a black sky with stars. The clock on her control panel told her it was 4:00am.
She'd lied to Malchior when she said she couldn't see in the dark. In fact, she could see in the dark. Even the pitch black darkness you only ever got in the deepest caverns that had never been warmed by the light of the sun. She hadn't always been able to; this was a recent thing. These days the only way she could really tell darkness from light was by the colors. In absolute darkness the colors were a bit different – a bit odd. It was like what happened whenever she stopped time. In fact…
In fact, that suddenly made sense. Light needed time to get from one place to another. It would slow and stop just like everything else when you messed around with time. It only made sense that, in a moment of absolute timelessness, there would be no light at all.
That didn't explain how either Slade or Robin had been able to see back when she'd first done it on her birthday. But back then it'd been a bit different. The shadows hadn't been around quite as much and she hadn't had this kind of night vision. Of course, it could be that, when she grabbed Robin, she gave him some of her ability to see in the dark (or rather, in very dim lighting). But what about Slade? How had he been able to break into her timeless moment anyway? Unless…
Unless that first time she hadn't actually stopped time, simply slowed it down, or 'sliced' it, so much that it'd seemed to have stopped. Otherwise it didn't seem possible that Slade would even be aware that any change had taken place. There would not have been time for the knowledge to pass through his neurotransmitters.
So, was she actually stopping time or simply slicing it so thin as to get a year out of a minute? That was something to think about.
"Sorry," she said to Rorek. "Didn't know anyone was here." she admitted.
"No matter. How do you feel?"
Like crap but she was keeping the pain off to the side where it wasn't actually bothering her. She decided to focus on something else. "Rested…and a bit hungry. I wonder what Cyborg has stored in the snacks compartment." she mused, finding the little switch on the chair itself that would turn it back into a chair. She arraigned the blanket so it was lying across her lap and then tried to remember what part of the panel proffered the snacks compartment. That was the problem with a multi-feature device. After a certain level the controls got way too crowded. At least the touch screen/tablet design meant that most of the features could be in one place and stored with detailed descriptions. "There it is."
"I am sure we can do better than snacks. You missed dinner after all." Rorek said.
"This should hold me until morning." she said, tapping the touch-screen button to bring up the little snack bar. The compartment popped out of the side of the chair and then rose up to present her with chips, dried fruit, and, for some reason, a box of cereal. She was about to reach for the dried fruit when Rorek's hand slipped around the little cabinet and tapped the button a second time, which returned the cabinet to its place. "Hey…"
"Raven, do not be difficult about this. It will only be a waste of energy. Let me take care of you. I am going to do so whether you wish me to or not and so you may as well allow it." he said.
"But it's four in the morning! Wouldn't you rather go back to sleep?" she asked.
"No. I would rather feed you." he answered, getting up and leaning over her, his hands braced on the arms of her chair and his face merely inches from hers. "Raven, I am well aware that you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself under ordinary circumstances and I often find myself having to explain that the things I do for you I do because I wish to and not because I think you are incapable of doing them for yourself. But right now you are incapable of doing these things for yourself and I would be lying if I said I wasn't just a little bit happy about that. Not that you are in pain, of course, but that you now have no choice but to let me take care of you. I want to take care of you, My Love. Alright? Please allow me to do so. You will recover so much more swiftly if you do." he told her.
Raven sighed, knowing she was in no position to argue. "Alright," she said. "But I'm using the toilet by myself. I'm pretty sure I can manage that much even if I do have to use magic."
"Oh very well." he said with a dramatic sigh. He kissed her forehead and then went to raid the kitchen for cooking supplies.
She watched him go, her eyes naughtily straying to a particular part of him that she knew she probably shouldn't be looking at but, well, he was rather inviting it with those pants. She couldn't help but wonder what he and Malchior might look like in jeans and T-shirts. Or muscle shirts. In fact, forget the shirts.
Raven shook herself and turned her attention to the panel. She selected the option that would turn the armchair back into a wheelchair. The mechanics shifted quite smoothly under her. It felt a bit odd having your chair shrink while you were sitting in it and then harden as the cushioning had to be pulled out so as to make it smaller and more mobile, but at least she didn't have to get out of the chair. And it did leave the fluffy blanket.
There was now a blue sphere on the right arm of the chair which was supposedly the hover controls. It had a few buttons around it that should be easy enough for her fingers to touch with her palm on the sphere, but she wasn't entirely sure how this was supposed to work. She had expected a joystick but Cyborg insisted that the sphere was better in that she could turn it about to face a different direction. She decided not to point out that a large enough joystick could be twisted around like the sphere and would allow for better grip at that. But having something stick up out of the chair's arm like that would ruin its sleek look.
She had also decided not to tell Cyborg that, while her body currently held certain VIEWS about her so much as sitting upright without support and walking was right out, her powers weren't thusly crippled and just levitating a regular wheelchair around wouldn't have been a problem. Besides, Rorek was right. The less she used her powers the swifter she could recover. So she was going to have to figure these controls out. Alright, let's see here. This button turned on the hover feature so she pressed that. The chair lifted a few inches off the ground very gently and very smoothly. Okay. Now, these buttons were the up-down controls so she went ahead and had the chair rise above the furniture just in case. Then she let her palm rest fully on the sphere.
It actually wasn't that bad. The sphere clung to her palm like a magnet and the slightest turn or roll was all she needed for the chair to move. Right, left, back, forward, and turning didn't actually require too much uncomfortable wrist-twisting. It was designed to stay in one neutral position like most game controller sticks so that an increased amount of roll or twist increased the speed. Right, she could do this. She could totally do this. She very carefully navigated to one of the side doors and spent a few minutes lining the chair up so it would go through the very center. Seconds later and she was really wishing for a joystick. Or, at the very least, some bumpers.
"Ow…" she moaned, rubbing her knee and wincing at the sharp increase of pain. Her body must be really sensitive to any little nudge. Either that or she managed to bang her knee harder than she thought.
Rorek chuckled behind her and took hold of the handlebars. To her slight surprise the chair allowed itself to be guided easily despite the fact that it was in hover mode. He took it to the bathroom and she decided not to argue. Actually her knee decided that for her and she went with it because it was easier that way.
He brought her all the way inside the bathroom as far as the chair would fit. "I'll wait outside for you to finish. Don't worry, I'm sure you'll get the hang of the controls soon enough." And he closed the door behind him.
Removing her wastes with magic and teleporting them into the toilet felt very weird. For a moment her body didn't believe it had been cleared out and insisted she still had to go. But it adjusted and she flushed the toilet with a bit of levitation. Ugh. Well she probably could have levitated her body over to the toilet but this was a bit easier and much faster. "Alright, I'm done." she called. Rorek opened the door and took her back to the living room.
Looked like this was going to be her life for a while.
(O)
Malchior didn't want to see her. No, that wasn't true, Rorek insisted. He didn't want her to see him. There was a difference. And he promised to take her down to see him when he was ready. Since there was nothing she could do when Rorek was determined like this she just gave a defeated sigh and excused herself to her room for a bit of solitude.
Then, when she was sure he was safely tucking himself away in his own room, she took herself to the basement.
Rorek had been right. A few hours of swearing at the controls in Draconic while she and Rorek waited for the rest of the Titans to start the day and she was getting the hang of this chair. She managed to get to the elevator without bumping anything, took herself down, and got down the stairs by pausing every once and a while to bring the chair down. She had to do this more often as the stairs descended into the more cavernous spaces and by the time she reached the bunker she was able to lower the chair and move forward at the same time so she didn't even need to pause.
When she got there she knocked on the door.
"Leave." Malchior snarled in response.
"Malchior, it's me. Let me in. I want to see you." she called.
"No."
Raven was startled. She'd expected some resistance, she'd expected to have to talk her way in, convince him that she really did want to see him, whatever his state. What she hadn't expected was a flat 'no'. Malchior had never said 'no' to her before, not like that. She wasn't accustomed to the idea that either of the twins would actually not want to be with her. It always seemed like they couldn't be happier than when she was around and she was always the one who needed space. That had been the way of it up until now.
Whatever this was, it had to be really bad. Maybe she should just leave him alone but…but…
Something deep down was telling her that she needed to be here. That, yes, it was bad, and that was why he needed her. He might not want her, but he did need her. She made a decision.
"I'm not leaving until I see you. Let me in!" she insisted.
"Rorek's coming down to take you back to your room."
Daanik! He really was serious! "No!" she exclaimed. She tried the door panel but, lo and behold, he did have it locked.
"Yes."
"Malchior I don't care that you used Blood Magic and I don't care what the aftermath looks like! I want to see you!" She was now hammering on the door.
"No, you don't. Stop exerting yourself and go back upstairs." he ordered.
"I won't! I'm not leaving you! Let me in!" she shouted. There was moisture stinging her eyes and cheeks and she realized she was crying. She was also giving herself the mother of all headaches and her body was screaming at her to lay back down and go back to sleep but she ignored it.
"Raven, stop! Just go. You'll hurt yourself." Malchior said, his tone taking on a note of pleading.
"I'm not leaving. Let me in!"
"No."
"If you won't open this door then I'll just come in another way!" she told him, knowing that she really, really shouldn't teleport but also knowing that she wasn't about to let Rorek cart her off like some naughty little girl.
"No!"
She took a deep breath, knowing she probably had only seconds before Rorek showed up, and concentrated. It was a lot harder than it usually was, but years of conditioning allowed her the focus and discipline she needed. She teleported herself and the chair into the bunker.
"Damn it, Raven!"
There was a thunk and, suddenly, the lights went out. That is to say, the colors shifted and went a bit funny. The white was no longer white but a nebula of orange and lavender, the grays took on an odd green hue, and Malchior…Malchior was kneeling next to the light switch. He was covered in something obscenely bright and red, something that practically glowed.
It was blood. She knew it was blood. And it was his blood. Some of it old and crusted – that blood didn't glow. But some of it was fresh and still glistening from self-inflicted gouges in his skin. His expression was pained and his emotions were in turmoil. He did not want her to see him like this, thinking he could hide in the pitch of absolute darkness. She felt a little guilty, but she felt even more certain that this was something she needed to see. This was the price of using Blood Magic, even to save the lives of you and your loved ones. There was always a price. For everything.
She maneuvered her silent hovering chair around the furniture towards him. He wasn't looking at her, he couldn't see her. He couldn't see in absolute darkness, only with very little light.
"Rorek's just outside. I'm going to open the door and you're going to go with him. Understand?" he instructed.
"Malchior," he jumped, gasping, obviously startled by just how close she was. Close enough to reach out and touch his face, which she did. "I lied to you the other day. I can see in the dark." And then she kissed him. She had to levitate in order to lean over far enough to do it, but she did it and she didn't regret it despite the taste of copper that filled her mouth and the scent of gore that filled her senses. She just accepted it. She accepted all of it from the taste to the scent to the sticky, crusty feel of it on her hand and whatever part of her face was touching his.
It wasn't fair that he had to pay the price of their escape himself like this and there was no way that she could take it from him or even share it so some of the burden was lifted from his shoulders. But just because he had to pay this price himself that didn't mean he had to deal with it by himself. And so that was why she levitated herself out of her chair and into his arms, which closed around her automatically. He slid down the length of the wall, his legs falling out from beneath him with the result that she now had a lap to sit in. That was a relief. She kept her lips on his by dint of wrapping her right arm around his neck and holding on, pressing herself, and her left arm, against his very bare and very sticky chest, ignoring the fact that she, too, was getting covered in blood. It didn't matter. He needed her right now and she would be damned if she let a broken body, a lot of blood, or even his own stubbornness get in her way.
(8)
A/N: It's a bit sappy, I know, but this is a romance. You need a little sap now and again. :D
Coming up in the next chapter:
The forces of evil have risen from their musty coffins to do the work of their lord and master, Satan, and I am the chosen sacrifice upon which they shall feed to grow in power and expensive watches!
Ugh, having to work Saturday again. Oh well, the overtime will pay for my new tablet :D (Well, sorta new. Factory Refurbished, actually, but the new ones are freaking expensive). Taking another vacation the week after next. Not the whole week but an extended weekend out of the state with my Dad and BFF. We'll be staying in my grandparents' old house which is currently vacant because it is very slowly falling down the edge of a cliff. JUST KIDDING! It's not actually falling down and the actual cliff is only about 18 feet high and quite a few yards behind the house itself (and if it did fall down it'd be falling on a shopping mall LOLZ). It's just that SOME of the landscape fell creating these two big huge fissures that caused the houses on either side to be condemned. And my grandmother is the grandmother of all worry warts so they moved out. Too bad it probably won't last the next 20 years. It's a nice house.
