Warning: This chapter contains a brief reference to underage sex. Please note that I don't condone that in any way, even if it is consensual.
In the present, Cinder is around 22-23 in this story, as that's about how old I think she looks in RWBY.
Cinder had lost track of how many hours had passed in the silence and darkness. At first, she'd cursed herself under her breath and tossed and turned to find a more comfortable position, but the longer she lay there, she more anxious she began to feel. Her muscles were taut and her skin was damp with sweat. Her tight tank top and shorts felt like they clung to her skin, making her shiver with discomfort.
I might as well take a walk. It's not like I'm ever going to get any sleep this way.
Irritably, Cinder pushed the coverlet off of herself and stood, tiptoeing to the door and slipping out into the dark hallway. The silence of Evernight Castle filled her ears and thrummed softly in her chest. She'd expected to hear the quiet clicks of the Seers, or perhaps even a low growl or some other sound from one of the other Grimm creatures that Salem had insinuated was inside the castle, but she could hear nothing but her own heightened breathing.
She slowly crept down the hall, her bare feet making no sound on the marble floor. While her own bedroom had been pleasantly warm, the hallway carried a bitter chill to it that made her shiver. She wished she'd taken the time to grab her cloak before she'd left the room.
I'm only going to take a short walk to help myself wind down, Cinder reasoned, turning the corner and slowly wandering down another corridor lined with familiar rooms. They'd once been occupied by the other members of Salem's inner circle, but now all the doors stood shut, and no light shone from beneath them. Cinder swallowed and turned away, hurrying back into the main hall and following it out to the grand staircase.
Feeling even more restless and unsettled, she began climbing the carpeted steps, her legs aching more by the time she reached the top. Her breath caught in her throat hesitantly. She knew she really wasn't supposed to come up here without being summoned— as a matter of fact, why had she even climbed the staircase in the first place?
Cinder slowly sat down on the top step and rested her raven head against the iron railing. Her body felt bruised and weary and her skin felt warm and damp, almost feverish, even though she knew she wasn't ill. She closed her lone eye and swallowed hard, shoving away the familiar heat that was settling lower down and spreading slowly throughout her body.
Not now, she reproached herself sharply.
Not now, when she'd retrieved two of the four Relics and delivered them herself into her mistress' hands. Not now, when she'd come only a hair's length away from seizing the powers of the Winter Maiden. Not now, when Remnant had been thrown into turmoil by the fall of Atlas and the death of James Ironwood. Not now, when she needed to be acting, moving..
Cinder growled softly with frustration and stood to her feet, forcing her thoughts away from the blossoming heat in her womanhood. She drew a deep breath of the familiar air of Evernight and a convoluted sensation of relief and anxiety ghosted over her heart. She glanced over her shoulder at the tall, blackwood doors that led into Salem's private chambers, and then looked away, her cheeks burning.
How many times had she crept up those same stairs, up to those same doors, when she'd lived in Evernight for so many years? Most often she'd done it in the dead of night, when the castle had been still and silent except for her own padding footsteps and quick, heavy breaths. She'd pushed open the doors to Salem's quarters hesitantly, peering inside but not daring to ask for entry. Her eyes had roamed over the spacious bedchamber, drinking in the luxurious furnishings, but not daring to touch anything.
Always, Salem had been there, usually reclining in one of the velvet-lined chairs as she perused an ancient novel, or sitting at her desk looking over papers. Once in awhile, she'd been standing by the window looking out into the wasteland below or staring unseeingly at the shattered moon. But she'd always welcomed Cinder. Oh yes.. always welcomed her.
"Are you restless tonight, Firefly?" Her voice had been low and soft, almost a purr. It was gentle, but edged with a subtle darkness.
Cinder had quickly learned that a verbal response wasn't necessary. As long as she kept her dark head bent low and her hands tightly clasped, Salem would gently thread her fingers through her dark hair, trailing them slowly down over her shoulders to find the buttons or clasps that fastened Cinder's ill-fitting clothes together. Sometimes she'd keep the girl standing in front of her, sometimes she took her onto her lap— only once had she ever taken her to the bed, and that was when Cinder had suffered brutal injuries from the Fall of Beacon.
"Oh my.. so wet and needy.." Salem's voice had been a soft growl in Cinder's ear as her teeth had come dangerously near to her throat. Her skilled fingers thrust deep into the raven-haired girl's drenched womanhood, drawing out all manner of soft gasps and cries.
Other times, Salem would recline on the luscious bed with her velvety robes parted, revealing her pale crystal-white skin that shimmered like moonlight under the candles. Cinder had tended to her mistress' silken folds with her tongue, letting it wander over the dripping heat and gather the liquid that flowed freely. It had tasted sweet like honey and wine, with a smoky tang that Cinder felt sure belonged to Salem alone. Her mistress had sighed deeply— it took a great deal to draw a low moan out of her, but Cinder had learned how to do so flawlessly.
"I've missed you, Firefly. Do you know that?" Even if Cinder had been allowed to respond with words, she couldn't have thought of any, her mind blurred with pleasure as Salem took her roughly onto her lap and conjured something in her hand using her magic. Something large and ethereal, made of fire but having the appearance of being solid, that drew shudders from Cinder that were as much of terror as of desire.
The fear had melted away almost as soon as Salem had thrust the magical object into her. It hurt horribly, but only for a moment, before leaving only the ecstasy that threatened to burn her alive.
The throbbing heat in Cinder's womanhood jolted her from her vivid memories. A soft gasp escaped her throat before she quickly remembered that she wasn't supposed to be on the third floor of Evernight Castle without being summoned, let alone be sitting on the steps outside of Salem's chambers, arousal spreading its demanding ache throughout her young body.
A pair of soft, padding footsteps assured Cinder that her sharp sound a few seconds before had been heard. She scrambled to her feet and began to scamper down the stairs, her mind torn between feeling rightfully afraid of Salem's wrath and scorning herself for behaving like a skittish young girl again. She wasn't thirteen anymore.
The doors of Salem's chamber swung open with a soft creak just as Cinder started down the stairs. She froze as the familiar golden candlelight flooded onto the floor, casting her own shadow starkly over the thick scarlet carpeting. She knew she should turn around and acknowledge her mistress, apologize for disturbing her rest, but her feet felt chained to the floor and her limbs felt like lead. The throbbing heat between her legs was demanding her attention, making her golden skin glisten with sweat and her cheeks darken with anxiety.
"Cinder.." Salem's tone was soft, but there was an obvious edge of annoyance to it. "I thought I gave you a command to rest."