Sputtering out the strands of hair that invaded his mouth, he tried to rid himself of them without the use of his hands since they were fully entangled with Vanya's still sleeping form. He peeled his eyes open to see the room was dark, the candles having burnt out through the night over which she had sipped wine that was too sweet and told him of Robin Hood and other folk tales that were full of adventure, some of them teeming with mysticism that made him wonder if magic had once existed on Earth. Where would such stories come from if it had not? His inquiries had been cut short when she'd demanded stories in return, and so he'd obliged, telling her some of his own experiences starting with the scar on his chin that he'd gotten in Nchardak and ending when she'd drifted off while he spoke of the puzzles of Benkongerike.

Teldryn kissed her shoulder, shifting slightly to close the small amount of space that had crept between them as they slept. She was clutching one of his hands to her breasts, which were unfortunately covered by her tunic, and though he knew it was morning he decided that it was nowhere near time to get up. He closed his eyes contentedly, enjoying the sensation of her back against his front, the sound of her even breathing, her soft legs intertwined with his- and the sudden and rather infuriating call of nature. He rolled his head back with a sigh and began the process of extricating himself without waking her. Once he was free, he threw a dim magelight in the air and climbed out of bed to find his shirt. He pulled it over his head and left the room.


She took a deep breath through her nose, reaching her arms up to stretch as she opened her eyes. She paused, blinking a few times at the dim ball of light floating in the room, then brought her hand down onto the space next to her in the bed finding nothing but crumpled linens. He must have stepped out for a minute.

She sat up, still gazing at the light. She'd fallen asleep listening to the sound of his voice while he told her stories about fighting bandits, wizards, trolls, and other creatures he'd named that she had no mental images for; finding treasures and ancient artifacts, some that belonged to the gods themselves. She couldn't believe they were stories that he had lived. Her pathetic fairy tales paled in comparison. Her eyes dropped from the light to her hands, calloused and good for nothing more than the labor they'd grown accustomed to. She flexed her fingers. Could I do more?

The door creaked open and she looked up to see Teldryn entering.

"Did I wake you?" he asked, closing the door softly.

She shook her head as he crossed the room. He fell into the bed, encircling her waist with his arms while pressing his head on her lap.

"Can you teach me that?" She motioned toward the light with one hand, the other scratching through his hair.

"Now?" he asked, his voice muffled against the fabric of her tunic.

"Doesn't have to be now," she replied. "Just sometime."


Better to get it over with. It was the dreaded request that he knew would come. He'd suspected before but now, after being so close with her, he was almost certain.

He rolled onto his back, putting his hand out to draw the light into his palm and the way her eyes glittered with anticipation as it drew nearer made him ache. He really hoped he was wrong.

"What did you say you felt when you touched this?" he asked, holding the light in front of her. She placed her fingers into the light for a few moments, her brow knitting as she twisted them around.

"Pressure," she said slowly. "but that's not quite right. The best way I can think to describe it is the air is thick." She scrunched her nose up, as if that still wasn't the answer she was looking for. He propped himself up on an elbow, studying her face.

"But you feel nothing else. In your head?"

She blinked a few times and shook her head. "No, just where I'm touching."

He released the light back into the air and grasped her hand, turning it over.

"Imagine..." he said, then hesitated. How would one describe the feeling of magicka? It was innate, like breathing. "Imagine you are drawing the very air into your palm. Building it in your fingers."

She closed her eyes and took a breath through her nose as she concentrated. He focused his feeling on her hand, searching for even the slightest flicker. Nothing.

It could be that he'd given a poor description. "Or maybe try pouring your energy into your hands, from deep inside your mind."

She nodded, her face pinching a little with renewed effort.

"Should I be feeling something?" she asked after a few moments, opening her eyes.

"Yes, and so should I," he replied, studying her palm as if it would reveal some answer. "Someone more attuned would be able to feel another's magicka from afar but when I touch you, I should feel it. Especially if you're calling upon it." Her hand went limp in his grasp as she understood.

"So I can't do it, can I?" The defeat in her voice cut him and when he built the courage to look at her face, at her failed attempt to seem impassive, it was salt in the wound.

"I don't know," he said truthfully, eager to give even the smallest bit of hope. "Magicka is our connection to Aetherius. Perhaps you cannot make that connection, or perhaps something blocks you."

"It must be something you're born with," she said with a shrug. "I wasn't born here, so I don't have it."

He had not wanted to believe it. If she knew what it was she was missing she would not speak so carelessly. She walked this world numb to its very essence, her mind caged. It was unfathomable. Wrong.

There had to be a way.


He was kneading her hand, his expression growing disturbed.

"It's okay, Teldryn," she said assuringly. "I had my doubts. I've lived this long without it." She was disappointed, yes, but her hopes had not been all that high in the first place.

He pressed his lips to her palm then pulled her down into his arms, her head under his chin and she curled her hands against his chest. She smiled as he sighed heavily. He really seemed to be taking this harder than she was.

"Teldryn," she scolded, nipping lightly at his collarbone. "Stop thinking about it." She rolled her head back to look him in the face. "I'm not."

Her smile faded when she met his eyes, forlorn as if he were looking at some pitiful, broken thing. It made her regret that she'd even asked. She scooted up, pushing him onto his back, curling a leg around his waist. "What did I just tell you?" she said archly.

He smirked slightly as a far more preferable look began to grow, his hand following her thigh upward under her tunic. Climbing fully on top of him, she pressed her lips to his, gently massaging his mouth until he relaxed into the kiss. His hand trailed up her back bringing her tunic with it and she pushed his arm down onto the bed, driving her tongue into his mouth as she ground her hips against the cloth of his pants. His other hand dove between them for his laces and she sat up, catching his wrist.

"No, that's for me to do," she purred, setting his hands firmly on her thighs. "You just stay right there."

His eyes were pure fire as she ran her hands under his shirt across his stomach, caressing downward to tug lightly at the strings that held him constrained. She lifted herself up, using both hands to push his pants down just enough to free him, his hands on her legs tightening as she wrapped her fingers around his taut shaft. She watched his eyes flutter, his lips part as she drew her wetness along his length, sliding her hand down and back up, her moistened palm gliding over his head. He grit his teeth, giving her the faintest whimper and she could take no more. She raised her hips again, a hand on his ribs for support and pressed him to her opening, nearly choking on her gasp as he thrust up hard, using his grip on her thighs for leverage. She closed her fist around the fabric of his shirt, lowering herself over him with a growl.

"You're naughty," she said, nipping at the corner of his remorseless smirk. "Maybe I will have to tie you up."

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, his hands roaming to her ass while he thrust again causing her to lose her balance over him, her face ending up pressed into his neck. She took advantage, kissing roughly under his chin while tangling her hand into his hair, pulling back to gain more access. His hands slid up her back, again trying to disrobe her and this time she let him, straightening up as he brought the cloth over her head. He sat up, pulling her along with him as he slid back to lean against the bed frame. She smiled, running her fingers over his head as he lowered his mouth to one of her breasts. Her hands followed the contours of his shoulders, down his arms to grab his wrists.

"You know," she said as she pressed his hands against the headboard, the action pulling his head away from her chest as he breathed heavily, eyeing her hotly. She intertwined her fingers with his, drawing his hands closer to his ears. "You don't listen very well."

She covered his attempt at a smart reply with her mouth, rolling her hips, swallowing his groans until her own cry caused her to break away. She was no longer pushing at his hands but he still held them in place as she hung onto him, every movement coiling her tighter while the light brush of her breasts against the fabric of his shirt drove her wild.

He let go suddenly, grasping her hips, his strangled moan spread heat across her chest as he came. She curled her fingers around the edge of the bed frame, his rigid thrusts lifting her upon the verge of euphoria until it spread in waves, from her very center to her limbs, washing away everything but his solid presence as she crashed against him with screaming breaths.


Her head was tilted back with wordless cries that were praise to his ears as she shivered around him, writhing uncontrollably. He winced a little, ignoring his sensitive discomfort that was nothing compared to the sight of her completion. She was sublime.

Her movements slowed and she leaned against him, breathing heavily. He pressed his head to her shoulder, becoming aware of the sheen of perspiration that coated them both. He dragged his fingers across the long lines of her legs, up her back and he scooted away from the bed frame to lay them down, gazing appreciatively over her body.

"That was fun," he said as he tugged his breeches back up.

A grin spread across her lips and she pulled her hair over her face as she snickered.

"Don't tell me you're being shy now," he said in astonishment, pushing her hands down and wiping the hair from her reddened cheeks. "I think you are touched by Sheo himself." Her laugh was infectious and he gave up, dropping his head against her neck as he joined her. He closed his eyes, inhaling in her soft scent, the vibration of her giggling filling him with a warmth that seeped into his soul. He turned his head on her shoulder, listening as her breathing calmed, the quiet returning him to his troubling thoughts.

She acted as though she didn't care, but her eyes had given her away. Of course, she wanted to do magic. And she should. He had to find a way for her, not just for her own desires but for his desire to share it with her. What wonders could she perform with that clever mind, if it could only be freed?


He was thinking again. She could tell by how still he was as she scratched his shoulder lightly. He really didn't need to worry about her lack of magical ability, she had already accepted her limitations, unpleasant as they were. She was a foreign body, affected by the forces of this world but unable to weave herself into it. She would be fine.

She stared into the soft orb of light. But it would have been pretty fucking cool.


A/N: I always hoped I'd find a place to insert Benkongerike. It's so fun to say(even more now that I'm saying it right)! BENKONGERIKE!

Also, I said lemon meringue didn't I? huehuehue

Don't worry, next chapter they actually leave the bedroom. XD