I've had to increase the rating for this story. I've decided to try my hand at writing my very first lemon. Ohhh, nervous… But you'll never know if you can do it if you never try, right? ;o) Here goes!
Chapter 4. The Ties That Bind
He was already in bed when she entered their room, the blankets pulled up to his waist, the bare skin of his back only covered by the strip of white bandages he still wore. His eyes were closed, his breathing soft. How he managed to sleep at such a time as this was beyond her.
Not when they now knew what lay ahead of them.
The 'she' Sigmund had been raving about in the Seraphic Gate was more than Capell had feared. Another god of sorts, his father had explained in Genma's house. There was more than one 'god' in the heavens, according to what Sigmund had learned while in the gate, and the queen of the Seraphic Gate was the most powerful of them all – and the most dangerous. Her ambitions stretched beyond creating and ruling a world. She wanted dominion of all worlds; all creatures. And if she had to kill the other gods to accomplish that, so be it. That meant she would need a weapon strong enough to kill a god. Until recently nothing had existed with the power to accomplish this.
Until Capell and the others had slain Veros.
And now the Ethereal Queen's sights were fixated on the mortals who had the ability to kill a god. These petty creatures who had tapped into a strength no deity could possess. She would have them as her weapons, she had decided. She plotted to twist them, as Veros had warped Leonid, and use them to her own ends – whether they wanted it or not.
These terrible things had been laid before Sigmund's mind when she had found him in the world beyond the gate and touched him – believing that he was Capell. She had been intent on taking him at that moment as her weapon, until she realized he was not the one she sought. Casting him aside like so much refuse, her touch on his consciousness had still left him partially mad – a taste of what she had in store for the Force – but had also left him with knowledge of who she was and what she intended.
Sometimes knowledge was the greatest weapon a person could have, Sigmund had murmured sagely.
Aya rested her head against the bedpost, watching Capell's peaceful figure. Michelle had changed his bulkier, more protective wrappings for smaller, less restrictive ones; his wound was healing well she had said and no longer required such heavy dressings. Yet from beneath the white linen Aya still saw the sickly greenish-purple of bruises that made Capell grimace if he moved wrong.
For one who had spent his life running from trouble, Capell took his share of life's punishments with a smile and a shrug; though he could not stand the suffering of others. She wondered briefly if the story of his childhood he had told her in Port Zala really had been true – if he had rethought his decision to tell her, and lied about it being only a story. To keep her from hurting for him. She pushed the thought away quickly – it sickened her.
Aya slid onto the bed beside him, not daring to touch him, or even pull down the blankets to crawl beneath. She did not want to wake him. He needed his rest, but still… she had to be close to him. She needed him. His breath wafted lightly onto her face and she inhaled deeply.
What if she lost him again? What if this time it was forever?
She clenched her jaw tightly and told her inner voice to shut up. She was being weak again. She was –
Aya felt her eyes begin to burn and she squeezed them shut against the sensation.
What if she lost him again?
Warm fingers touched her cheek and Aya opened her eyes to find Capell looking at her, concern so deep in his features that she almost did cry at that moment.
"Aya?" His voice was soft and hesitant. She reached up and clutched his fingers tightly.
"Promise me now, Capell," she said hoarsely, "promise me that I won't lose you again. Swear it to me." His brow furrowed and he shifted onto his side to face her, ignoring the blossom of fire in his shoulder. He continued to watch her with that mournful expression and Aya felt her insides go cold. "Swear it to me." She pleaded again.
"And if I break my promise?" He whispered.
"You won't – that's why it's a promise. Please, Capell."
At last he spoke, though it was not what Aya had hoped to hear. "I promise you that I will do everything in my power to bring everyone home safely." She shook her head fervently.
"No – this isn't like last time. You can't make some vague promise of safety that may or may not include you. Swear to me that I won't lose you again. Please!" She already knew it from the look in his eyes; from the way he tried to hold her hand as she squeezed his fingers so tightly his fingertips were turning purple.
He wasn't going to make that promise.
Because he knew there was a chance he could not keep it.
She released her grip on his hand to press fingers to her face and he immediately pulled her tightly to him.
"I'm not making that promise to you this time, Capell," she said in an angry voice that sounded forced. "I won't. I won't listen if you tell me to run or to fall back. I fight with you – no matter what this time. Don't you dare try to stop me. And don't think I'll let Ed or anyone else drag me from your side again." His hand stroked the back of her head tenderly, his other arm snaking beneath her to keep her close.
"Alright Aya." He was speaking to her in that soothing way he had used the last time she had pleaded for him not to leave her. Her hand found his arm and she clutched it desperately, forgetting that only inches above her grip battered nerves were screaming in protest at her touch. Capell ignored the throb, though.
"She-" Aya's composure was breaking, only this time she wasn't screaming hysterically. This time it was a quiet breaking, one that somehow hurt him worse than before. "She touched Sigmund and from it he went crazy. From just a touch. What if – what if-"
Sigmund's fear had been real as he had told his story earlier that evening. His eyes had ghosted something of that madness that had overtaken him previously, though his composure had held firm. Still, it had been enough to unsettle everyone.
And it seemed Aya was taking it harder than Capell. His mouth found hers and he stifled her spoken fears beneath tender kisses.
"Do you know how hard I will fight to stay by your side?" He whispered against her lips. "What I will do to stay with you?" His fingers grazed her cheek.
"You promised to marry me," she whispered in response, "Capell please don't leave me again…"
He drowned out her pleas with another kiss – this time desperate. He needed for her to stop pleading for something he could not promise. They were going into battle – there was no choice for them in it. Things far worse than Larva and Quetzalcoatl would be coming through that gate soon.
Like Gabriel Celeste. Sigmund's mention of a second terrible entity had only added to the danger. Edward and Eugene were actually preparing written instructions for succession to their thrones in case…
He tightened his arms around her, not knowing what to say; what to do. She was afraid and he couldn't chase off her fears. He was grateful she had not mentioned planning for succession to her throne. If she had spoken of dying, Capell did not know how he would react. Losing Faina and Leif had driven him to a state of mind he had never known he was capable of.
Losing Aya would probably kill him.
He pushed away the thought before it had a chance to complete itself in his mind. He could not afford to think this way now.
His fingers threaded through her hair and kissed her deeply, feeling relief when she sighed against his face at last. Her hand slid absently up his arm, tracing a sharp stab of pain until her grip settled over the bandage. With a start she drew back and began murmuring apologies. Capell took her hand and draped it over his neck, returning to their kiss without a word, and Aya's eyes slid closed, forgetting the blunder with the touch of his lips.
Capell's hands strayed over her body, slowly peeling back clothing to touch the skin beneath, caressing the skin he uncovered. Aya shifted to accommodate his work and pushed at the blankets with her feet and legs until they no longer separated her body from his. It wasn't a solution to their problems, but when she made love to him Aya was only aware of Capell. She only knew his touch, his scent. The words he murmured into her ear; so full of reverence. She needed him now – needed to drown out everything but him.
Aya's arms slipped to his waist and she pulled him tightly to her, allowing his leg to wedge between hers. He felt her growing heat against his thigh, his own arousal answering hers. Capell's fingers became bolder and Aya moaned when they began traveling to places no other man had touched before. Battle roughened fingers found twin soft peaks beneath her blouse and Aya sighed at the attention he devoted to each.
When his hand moved on and slid between their bodies to the moist heat between her legs Aya bit her lip to keep from crying out. Sigmund was in the next room, and shouts could still be heard through palace walls. Capell covered her mouth with his and pressed on without mercy when Aya wriggled and shuddered as he buried his fingers within her, his lips and tongue muffling the moans she only partially suppressed. His free hand pressed against her lower back, holding her tightly from him, preventing her from writhing free of him – not that it was her intention to do so.
Her leg slid up his thigh, wrapping tightly around his hip and pushing herself against him with need that he would not yet give in to. She had to forget everything but this, he concluded, and he would make certain that this moment was the only thing Aya was capable of knowing right now. He would drive her to total distraction. His fingers left her warmth to caress the sensitive peak of her womanhood with gentle, fluttering strokes, dragging ragged breaths from her before delving back in to her depths, her back arching, her hands clutching at him desperately.
She was so beautiful when her face contorted in passion, he thought. Her eyes were only half opened, her lips working against the noises that threatened to break free of her throat. Capell's mouth found her collarbone and he gently allowed his teeth to play against her skin, Aya's head tilting back to make room for his ministrations. Skin pulled into his teeth, his tongue grazing the flesh before he released it and move on. He still worked within her, stroking and thrusting with a gentle coaxing that had her core tightening convulsively around his fingers.
Aya was able to bring herself into active participation at last, fingernails dragging light trails from his back and against the place where his thigh met his toned stomach. Capell sucked in a breath through his teeth and hesitated for only a moment when Aya's fingers intentionally grazed his arousal, abandoning it to neglected torment as she returned to softly tracing the firm skin of his inner hip once more. He looked up to see hungry eyes trained on him, her teeth working her lower lip furiously, to the point where he had to kiss her to keep her from drawing blood it seemed.
When his lips met hers Aya clutched at his manhood with a possessive greed, her thumb moving over its head in similar fashion to the way his finger teased her most sensitive place. Her grip slid up the length of him, slick with the sweat of their bodies, her thumb smoothing velvet strokes across the tip. Now it was Capell's turn to moan into her mouth and against his will his hips bucked into her hand, wordlessly begging her for more, his fingers stilled and forgotten.
Triumphantly Aya pulled free of him and as gently as she could to avoid hurting his shoulder, urged him onto his back. She slid herself down along his torso, watching him as she moved and touched. He was chiseled marble covered in smooth skin, hard and soft and so beautiful she relished every moment she could see him as he had been created. Capell watched her studying him, and waited for her to straddle him and claim her victory, but instead she moved to the foot of the bed, pinning him with carnal eyes until she hovered between his legs, no longer touching him; only watching.
One slender hand swiftly wrapped around his need and before Capell could utter protest Aya's mouth engulfed the head, her tongue exploring the tip with firm pressure. Capell cried out softly, failing to exercise the same restraint Aya had shown; his full concentration set on not thrusting his hips forward and driving himself forcefully into her. Aya seemed to know his struggle and placed her free hand on his hip to hold him down, her lips and tongue working further along the shaft. The slick heat of her mouth drew sharp pants from Capell, who fisted fingers in the sheets helplessly as she worked.
He could not reach any of her sensitive places from here, could not kiss her passionately. In this Aya was in command and Capell could only lie there and obey. The conquest was clear on her face and, looking pointedly into his eyes, she tightened her lips and swirled her tough around the head with increased vigor, her fingers tightening and moving in unison with her mouth. Capell's eyes rolled back into his head, unable to distinguish anything but the sensation Aya was bringing dangerously close to the surface. His body clenched and he struggled against it. Not now… he wanted her to join him. He needed her to go over the edge with him. Needed to make her cry out in ecstasy… Needed…
His hands found her shoulders and he pulled her away, a bit roughly for the startled look on her face.
"Not like this," he growled and pulled her body over his, his mouth claiming hers once more hungrily. Her tongue tasted of him, salty yet somehow sweet. He had been dangerously close to leaving her behind completely, he knew. Did she know what kind of power she held over him?
His hands gripped behind her thighs, pulling them to either side of his hips, and he pressed himself against her entrance. She cupped the sides of his face in each hand and kissed him slowly, holding her body above him; letting the anticipation build as she allowed him to press against her, but not to enter. Capell tried once more, but she rose with him, permitting the pressure to increase slightly, but not enough to accomplish his goal. Capell groaned in delicious agony but did not bring her down onto him physically. Aya had claimed the victory; it was now up to her to decide when she would allow him in.
With taunting plays of her hips, Capell felt himself enter her fractionally only to be removed once more. The tip was buried and then removed, a little further and then nothing. She watched his eyes expectantly, repeating the offers without giving him full satisfaction.
Had he not been in such a state of torture, Capell might have laughed. She wanted to hear him say it.
She had won, after all.
"Please," he rasped at last with so much want that he did not recognize his own voice, "please Aya…"
With an exhalation that told him she had been holding her breath, Aya lowered herself onto his length, and Capell's hands gripped her hips tightly, making certain that he filled her completely. Aya's head tossed back as she sat straight, letting Capell's hands set their pace. She had taken her victory, and now she would enjoy the spoils of Capell's attentions.
He moved her slowly at first, letting her slip into the rhythm with him, feeling the well of desire within her build and flood. At last her warmth tightening around him, her pants turned into mewls, and he increased the measure to match her need. She was working with him now to quicken the pace; he could feel her beneath his hands, pushing against him, urging him on. His insides constricted as well and with every shred of willpower he possessed, Capell held back until she was at last crying out. Her walls gripped him spasmodically and, no longer able to hold back, Capell spilled forth, his groaning bliss joining hers until she at last collapsed onto his chest, shuddering and panting as his thrusting at last stilled with her.
He wrapped his arms around her, his hands stroked her hair and back tenderly, listening as her breathing slowed and his heartbeat calmed. His limbs tingled in the after-effect and he held onto Aya as though she would keep him from floating away. Her fingers trailed slow circles on his chest and for a time he truly forgot why it was he had first taken her this night. When at last he remembered, Capell twisted his neck to afford him a view down to her face.
Aya's lids were closed, her features relaxed. Her fingers had ceased their patterns against his skin some time ago. She slept easily and Capell was grateful that he had been able to spare her the pain she was going through. A tender kiss placed on the top of her head and Capell closed his eyes as well, Aya's whispered breaths a lullaby that pulled him into sleep along with her.
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Capell found the following morning came later for him that it did for the others for the first time in quite a while. Only Aya had risen after him, and only by a few moments. That no one had bothered to knock on their door to wake them told Aya that they had not been as discreet as they had hoped. They had not been quiet at the end, after all. She kept her thoughts to herself, though. If Capell was sharing her worry he didn't show it, and she had no desire to put the thought into his head otherwise.
Aya tried not to blush when Sigmund watched as she and Capell entered Halgita's former chapel, now converted to an interior garden. Though his expression betrayed no hint of anything but his usual composure, Aya thought she could see something there that said he knew how she and his son had spent their night. Capell however, seemed as collected as his father and greeted everyone with a composure the situation called for.
Michelle had already examined Sigmund's head wound, ticking her disliking of him going into battle before being fully recovered under her breath. Sigmund had said nothing and she had not tried to actually ask him to stay behind. For all her moments of seeming naivety, Michelle knew better than to try to change Sigmund's mind once he had set it. With a pat of his back she was urging Capell to remove his breastplate – yes right here, please - so she could peer down his tunic to the dressings at his shoulder.
Capell heard her chuckle so softly it was barely audible, but when she had finished her examination she pronounced that his recovery was going well. She seemed to stress the word 'recovery' however, as if to make it clear that neither Sigmund nor Capell were yet rid of the wounds they had inflicted on one another. Capell ignored the innuendo and donned his armor once more.
"Eugene, Ed, did you take care of what you wanted?" He purposely did not include Aya in the question. Their last wishes – it was hard enough asking his friends if they had made them known. To ask Aya to plan for her death…
"We did." Eugene was not going to be as merciful, even though he spoke his words with kindness. "What of Cassandra and Fayal?"
When Aya nodded Capell felt his stomach drop into his boots. She had her last wishes recorded as well. Of course she would – she was always careful of her responsibility to others. His late morning had deprived Capell of his chance to clear up matters of his own, and he found himself the last to follow suit.
"Actually," Capell looked to Sigmund with a bit of embarrassment, "I meant to talk to you about this, father – in private. However now that seems… never mind. I reclaimed Cassandra. When Leonid fell it was vulnerable. The others took control of it until I came home and then-" Sigmund cut off Capell's rambling with a raised hand.
"You will make a good king, Capell," he said without hesitation, "and I would be honored to be your advisor if you would permit it." Capell knew that his face was showing the surprise he felt, but he could not clear it.
"Yes, yes of course." He replied and hesitated until he seemed to remember himself with a shake of his head. "In that case, I have my instructions ready as well." And Capell produced a sealed sheet of paper. "Genma, please add this to the others." The elder took the instructions with all the respect one would give a king and saluted.
"We need to be going." Capell said and turned to the city entrance. "Everyone ready?" Murmurs of consent responded and Capell started for the entrance.
"Just one moment," Sigmund interrupted and the party halted, "Capell, if I may?" It was as before, Sigmund pulling Capell aside before a major battle to talk of something important. Capell nodded and followed the man off to a quiet wall, the others waiting quietly in place.
When at last they reached a place in the entryway that was well outside of earshot for anyone Sigmund turned. "The advice I've given you in the past could have been construed as the advice of a leader to his successor," Sigmund said at last, but with a quiet way that caught Capell's attention more than before. "This time… this time I must ask for your permission to give you the advice of a father to his son." He waited and Capell realized he was actually asking for permission.
"Please," Capell nodded, "I would appreciate it." Sigmund seemed almost relieved, but hesitated before he began, as if doubting the words he had already chosen.
"You have a woman who is willing to give her life to save yours Capell," he said at last, "and I know that you would do the same for her." Capell wondered how he had figured out the extent of their feelings, but before he could ask Sigmund went on. "When Aya confirmed she had planned for Fayal's future without her, your face lost all color. And when you handed your letter to Genma, her knees gave way slightly. Such reactions would not occur between two people who only share passion." Capell felt his face redden with embarrassment. Sigmund had heard them.
"I'm so sorry," he said quickly, "we didn't mean-" but Sigmund waved off his apology quickly.
"There is no need for that." He said. "My point is that you cannot let a love such as that go unspoken. It is too precious and rare. Forgive me for prying, but does she know your feelings towards her?" Capell managed a smiled now despite his discomfort and nodded.
"We're getting married," he said softly, "after this is over, we'll be announcing our engagement to the others." True pride crossed Sigmund's face at that moment and Capell's smile brightened. He'd seen traces of fatherly emotions from Sigmund since he woke, but now he was able to experience it completely. It was strange, but now that he had a father, he wanted nothing more than the relationship the two should share.
"Good. Capell, do not allow duty to interfere with your heart's desire, so long as it is pure. If this battle or your duties to your kingdoms should come between you and Aya-" Capell shook his head.
"Aya and I would never be able to live with ourselves if we let you all go in there without us." He said quickly. "This is our fight as much as it is yours." Sigmund nodded solemnly.
"Very well. I will not ask you to stay behind. But Capell, do not lose her, and do not let her lose you if you can help it. To lose someone you love," Sigmund's eyes clouded over, "it is not something that ever leaves you. Even if you forget the loss, the pain of it will live on in your heart, though you do not understand what it means. Do you understand what I am telling you?" Capell nodded slowly. He understood that all too well.
The memory of Sigmund embroiled in battle with Leonid and then disappearing in a flash of light had haunted him since that terrible day. And then the knowledge of why Sigmund had sacrificed himself – of who Sigmund was to him – had only compounded the void in Capell's life. For a time he had been given his father back, and he had not known it until it was too late. It had been like a wound that refused to heal.
Capell knew all too well that terrible ache of loss.
"I promise to do all I can." He hesitated, uncertain how to say what he felt. It was all so new to him – so frightening. "Father," he murmured, "please, be careful in there too. Don't do anything reckless. I…" He swallowed. "I can't lose you again. I… need you."
It was hard to say those words out loud; hard to admit that he needed anyone to their face. He'd never said anything like this to anyone but Aya, and it had taken a great deal to be able to admit that to her. But if he was going to have a relationship with his father, Capell had to take the first step. Sigmund seemed to understand the momentousness of such a statement, for surprise widened his eyes.
It took about ten heartbeats for Sigmund to move after that. Placing his hand behind Capell's neck, Sigmund bent his head inward; pressing his forehead into Capell's hair in the same way the new Liberator had seen countless fathers display affection to their young sons. Hot tears traced down Capell's cheeks and he gripped his father's shoulders tightly. He had never expected this kind of reaction from the stoic man, and it had caught him completely off guard.
He had a father – he truly had a father! The word had been something he had toyed with before, even thought he could believe. But now, standing here with Sigmund, the paternal embrace rocked Capell to his core. Just as quickly as it had begun, the moment ended and Capell swiped at the tracks on his face with impatient fingers, trying to echo the composure Sigmund had held to.
Until he noticed the glistening in his father's eyes – the only hint that Sigmund felt anything as profound as he.
"We should…" Capell scrubbed at his cheeks one last time, "we should go." Sigmund nodded but said nothing, though Capell noticed his father's throat lurch as though he were swallowing hard.
When Capell and Sigmund rejoined the groups, there was no pretense from anyone that they had not seen the exchange. Aya smiled tenderly at Capell , entwining her fingers in his briefly. Edward gave Capell's good shoulder a brother squeeze while Michelle rested her arms upon Sigmund's shoulders and whispered something into his ear that brought a subdued smile to his lips. No one was boisterous; no one said much of anything. They simply stood there, waiting.
"We should go." Capell repeated once more, and the others fell into step behind him.
It was time to go to Kolton.
Back to the Seraphic Gate.
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A/N – I know the chapter title can come off as kinky, but it really was meant to symbolize the relationships between the characters. ;o) Anyway, please tell me what you think. I really wanted to express the emotional side before we head straight back into blood and blades – you know? And let me know what you think of my first lemon – that way I can work on improving it if needed.