Author's Note:
This is the last chapter. I was thinking whether to write until it rejoins the actual plot of the book but decided to leave it at this length and open to interpretation. Thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read this Xx
Chapter 6
Sonea sat down heavily on the end of the marble bathtub and rested her head in her arms. Had he noticed how tense she was in his presence? How she had been fighting to keep from staring at him like some lust-filled fool? Or restraining her jaw muscles from blurting out something she'd definately regret later? Sonea moaned. But ofcourse he had. He must be finding it amusing and unimportant; a mere intimidated novice with a crush on him. He was probably recalling how her hands had shook with suppressed emotion while in his room right now, his lips curled at a corner to that sly smirk.
She stood up and splashed cold water on her face from a bowl by the mirror, the same bowl she had given him that night when she saw his bloody hands... "Oh, enough!" She said to herself, throwing down the linen towel and stepping out of the bathroom. Why did every small thought lead to him? She needed to put a stop to this. She'd walk into that library tonight, composed and focused, and act toward him with indifference. She'd get the books and leave, and do her best to supress these foolish urges. This is not like you. Where is that stubborn Sonea with those earth-bound morals when you need her? she asked herself annoyedly, then shook her head in despair.
She retied her hair tightly and took a deep breath. She was going to get this over with and act as indifferent as anything. With a nod, she smoothed her dress and headed down the stairs and towards the shiny, blackwood door which led to the room she knew he spent a lot of time in. She had always thought this was a library, but recently had realised it was also his own small study.
She knocked, but her hands didn't seem to be obeying her fully, and her knock sounded uneven and tentative instead of the two sharp taps she had wanted.
"Come in," he said from the other side. There was an unnatural huskiness to his voice that Sonea had never heard before. Oh, she had heard that cultured, imposing voice change many times for many people, ranging from cold cruelty to genuine fondness. But she knew for certain she had never heard that voice like this. Velvety. Soft. Dangerously so, almost.
She pushed open the door and closed it carefully behind her. She heard a swish of robes as he got up and nodded in acknowledgement as she bowed quickly. He walked up to one of the shelves- even such a common action coming from him was edged with elegance and authority- and picked up two old volumes with care.
Sonea looked at them, marvelling at how well they must have been taken care of so as not to fall apart. One had faint ink stains on it and was quite small, the other large and dusty and looked less personal and more like a textbook.
"I don't think I need to tell you that these are quite valuable and ancient," Akkarin said as Sonea carefully took them from him, taking utmost care not to touch his hand. He cleared his throat and his voice dropped an octave. "It would be... wise... for no one but Takan and myself to know about these. Keep them hidden from anyone else at all times," he said pointedly.
Sonea looked at him, keeping her gaze steady to show she understood and wouldn't betray this trust. "I will."
He didn't look away. Neither did she. It was the first time Sonea remembered being able to hold that intense gaze for that long.
She couldn't see why, but she could sense that there was a sudden, subtle shift in the mood of the room. Suddenly the weak candlelight wasn't an inconvenience, the musty smell of paper wasn't stifling, the blackwood of the walls and furniture weren't oppressing. Instead the light was soft, the smell was comforting, the colour was sensual.
"In that case..." he answered softy, his words trailing away.
And then he closed the distance between them gracefully.
Akkarin lifted a finger to trace her lips and jawline, coming to rest on her chin. His touch was faint and uncertain; he was unsure of her reaction. But she didn't move away; she didn't move at all. Her gaze held his steadily.
That was all the confirmation he needed. In one movement, he lifted her chin so his lips could meet hers.
Akkarin was surprised to feel the barely contained force behind Sonea's kiss. He had expected tentativeness, anxiety, had even braced himself for a rejection. Instead she was responding to his every move.
He leaned down and trailed kisses up her neck, breathing deeply. He didn't want to frighten her, but he couldn't slow his actions any further, couldn't suppress such welcome, reviving desire any longer. Supporting her hips against his own with one hand, he walked them forward until her legs bumped into his desk and she lay back on it, her heart beating frantically. He could feet it against his hand as he leaned onto her.
Her breathing was swift and ragged, her hands clenched fistfuls of his black robe. She desperately wanted to go on, she really did. Her body was certainly telling her she really did. But suddenly the image from one of her nightmares flashed into her mind. Akkarin holding her down easily, a hand around her neck keeping her only half-concious as she sobbed in pain and fear... "Go on then, send a mental call... endager yet even more of your loved ones, Sonea"... he laughs quietly... She gasped and pushed him gently but firmly away from her, then sat upright. Akkarin straightened, swiftly composing himself, except for his shaking hands and understanding, yet defeated, eyes.
"W-wait," Sonea breathed, "I..."
Akkarin nodded and stepped back, leaving her a clear path to the door. "I understand." There was a dull ache in his chest which threatened to sharpen. The line that divided them because of their difference in status had dissolved away. He knew that right now, they were equals and she was very much capable of hurting him with her words.
Sonea could see he was expecting this rejection, had accepted it. This converted some of her fear into anger.
"No, you don't," she answered determinedly. "I..." she lifted a trembling hand to cup his face, and finally her fear poured out of her mouth. "I really want... need... this. But... that night... you frightened me. I had always known, having the power you do, you could be capable of anything but I... I wasn't expecting you would actually attempt such a thing, not when I was just... just beginning to trust you."
Every word was a knife stab he had brought upon himself.
Akkarin looked up and met her questioning dark eyes. "I was a fool filled with a hunger I had forgotten how to control and hadn't felt for years. You... you have every right to feel distrust. And I was wrong to assume otherwise. Forgive me," he tore his gaze away.
Sonea took a deep breath and slid off the desk. She took a step towards him, and then another. Her body was telling her to acknowledge that she had responded to him even that night, when things could have easily turned violent. Right now, when he looked safe- well, relatively- she was once again responding to him. Things were clear, as far as her mind was concerned. But her heart was full of questions, full of fears, full of uncertainty and a reluctance to reveal itself.
"What are you thinking?," he asked nervously.
Sonea wet her lips nervously and stepped close enough to touch. He stood utterly still.
"I... I feel like, now that I also know your reasons... I can grow to trust you over time."
"And yet...?" It was a strained, quiet question. His tone sounded as if he was waiting for the fatal blow.
Sonea closed her eyes and swallowed, then when she spoke, her voice was steady and had an underlying fierceness to it. "And yet, I want to ignore all the obstacles and questions and just let you continue."
His tight face relaxed somewhat. "Although I have hardly justified it recently, if you need it, I can be patient."
Her head seemed clearer than it had been for a long time. "I don't think I can."
It was as if whatever things had been restraining both of them suddenly snapped in half. They reached for eachother at the same time, him with a hunger that threatened to devour them, her accepting everything he gave welcomingly. Thoughts of trust, rank difference, age difference, were abandoned.
She let him push her back on the desk and just continue the kiss, nothing else. His hands stayed resting on her shoulders, the weight of his body comforting instead of restricting. She could feel a tension building in her body and though the kiss was lovely, it wasn't enough. In a bold movement, she curled her hands to grab fistfuls of black robes and pull him towards herself. He chuckled softly and gently untangled her hands from his robes, standing back to remove the outer garment.
Sonea waited with difficulty, her chest rising and falling rapidly. Just as he reached to pull the robes over his head, he dropped them and hooked one arm under Sonea's legs and the other under her back.
"Wha- " He cut her off as he lifted her as if she weighed nothing and headed down the hall with her in his arms.
"I very much doubt that desk was all that comfortable," he whispered in her ear. She could hear that half-smile in his voice.
They entered a dark room in which he created a small globelight and made it jump from spot to spot until Sonea understood that it was splitting into smaller pieces to illuminate the whole place softly. There weren't bright, but she could see the dark blue wallpaper and a window with a view of the Guild gardens, pale in the moonlight. The lights were mainly on the small desk so when he lay her on the bed she could only see his silhouette. But as the globelight moved around, his features were lit up.
It was unnerving somewhat to be the sole focus of that dark, unwavering gaze. She couldn't have known that at that same moment, he had been thinking the same thing about her's.
Sonea suddenly felt an odd sort of passion. She was in his room, in his bed. It was so much more personal, so much more real.
He must have felt the subtle difference too, for the desire in his eyes had intensified as he stood and slowly removed his robes. There was something both frightening and sensual about the way he was looking at her. Her breath hitched in her throat as his hands slowly but firmly pulled her dress over her head, tossed it aside.
It was such a relief to finally let go of the leash that held both of their desire and let it consume them. Though her movements were erratic and inexperienced, his were firm and self-assured despite the underlying intensity. So she let him lie her back and kiss her until her heart raced, caress her until her body felt too weak to withstand anything more. It was a long time before either of their desire was quenched enough for them to get some sleep.
Light behind his eyes woke Akkarin. Slanted, pink sunlight of the dawn was drifting into the room. A ray was illuminating Sonea's face. He smiled at her sleeping form and trailed a finger down the curve of her bare back. It's a priceless thing, he thought, to see her so peaceful. His gaze trailed lazily over the bedside, over the armchair which held the clothes they had flung aside with fierce force. Black robes with a glittering incal, the simple novice's dress...
Realisation hit him. This was bad. This was very bad. This was another huge worry to add to his list. What have you done? a mental voice rang out, scolding it's host. You have undermined everything you've tried so hard to build! You bedded your own novice! A fine chance there is of the Higher Magician's believing it was out of mutual desire. They'd find this sick, even forced... who knows what they could presume. Akkarin tore his eyes away from the sight that so blatantly gave away the difference in their status.
To him, it was next to no importance. She could have been the lowliest dwell from the Outer Circle or the niece of the King himself, he wouldn't care. Sonea was Sonea.
But they wouldn't understand. Oh, there were so many things they wouldn't understand about him.
As he watched Sonea's sleeping form, he instantly knew distancing himself was out of the question. It had been excruciatingly painful to tear himself away and leave Sonea shocked and confused on her bed that night, and to force this on either of them again would be too difficult to bear. And- Akkarin sat up on his elbows and considered carefully- it would be uneccesary as well. Why not hide this? Continue and hide this? He could hide his thoughts from everyone at the Guild, and he could easily teach Sonea how to make her mind undetected too. Their paths rarely crossed during the day anyway, and at night... no one spent the night at his residence except for Sonea, himself, and Takan. Takan's trust was out of the question anyway. Akkarin knew the man wouldn't utter a single word without his own consent. They owed eachother that much. He would find a way to make this work, he would. But it all depended on whether Sonea wanted it herself...
His mind was racing, going over every possible give-away, every possible loophole that could be avoided, even though all he wanted to do was erase all thought from his mind and just lie in her arms serenely. But then a soft sigh escaped Sonea's slightly swollen lips, and she stirred.
As her eyes opened slowly, Akkarin leaned in to brush his lips against hers. He could feel the small smile her lips slowly stretched into at the contact. As he pulled away, her smile lost some of it's carefreeness and her eyes focused properly. "I..."
"Good morning," Akkarin said gently.
She closed her mouth slowly and some of the worry in her eyes cleared away. "Good morning."
When neither of them could find words to continue with, she tentatively got up, keeping the sheets around her hips as she reached for her dress. Akkarin's worry sharpened as he noticed her slight wince when she moved. "Are you all right?"
Sonea nodded and gave a small, strained smile. "I'm fine. I just need to... take a hot bath," she finished sheepishly.
Oh. Yes. She had been inexperienced indeed. Akkarin was glad to remember that he had been able to leash his desire long enough to be extremely gentle, at least at first, when he had realised the responsibility on himself. She looked fine otherwise. But there was still that worry in her eyes, still the hasty look around his room as if she was telling herself she should not be in here. He could feel a close resemblance to what he himself had been feeling.
He wanted to soothe her nerves, wanted to explain his little 'plan' and find out whether she was willing to continue this. But his heart ached to see her grimace ever time she moved, even though she looked emotionally perfectly fine. "Take all the time you need. It's a freeday," he said with a voice that he hoped sounded reassuring.
"Yes, " she agreed. Then, tentatively, she asked in a shy, anxious voice, "Should I return when I'm done?"
Something constricting his chest seemed to loosen. It was as if an invisible weight was being lifted.
"I would like that very much," he answered softly, gratefully.