16.
A/N: M rating for this chapter is… definitely justified for M rated things happening in the dark.
Valen stares.
"All right," he says slowly, looking around. "So you and Deekin basically used this as a… what do you call it on the Prime anyway?" He sweeps his hand on an arch, encompassing the little room crammed full of things. "A place full of…things just in case'?"
"Why, what do you call it where you come from?" Adele smiles. His reaction to seeing the place, almost undetectable at one side of the great hall of the gatehouse is something to behold indeed. "We found it the first time looking around here and Deekin said, 'Boss, wow, good place to store stuff even Deekin can't squeeze into Bag of Holding'. So we did. Store things, I mean."
It's not that I don't want to continue kissing him, she thinks while looking at Valen as he surveys the room. I very much do, in fact. It's just that there is this small matter of a Tormish paladin and a tanar'ri tiefling in Hell we need to solve somehow…
Also, doing all the things I really want to do while and after kissing him in front of the Reaper is just a little bit unappealing. And then I was putting it mildly.
"Yes indeed, you stored things." Valen steps around something very carefully that, at first sight, looks like a haphazard pile made of half a dozen wooden staves, some longer, some shorter. "I'm afraid to ask what's here that could not be used to maim, harm, disintegrate or kill." He flashes a grin. "And it's called a 'bolthole' in Sigil, berk."
"Berk?" Adele lifts an eyebrow. "What's that?"
"Prime-dwellers in Planar-land." Valen bends down to examine a small chest, full of gems. "Clueless wanderers, greenhorns, easy marks. No matter how experienced or rich you might be on the Prime, when you first enter Sigil, you are nothing but that." He whistles between his teeth, lifting out a diamond almost the size of his fist. "Although this one might ease your way up from berk status rather fast."
"I shall keep that in mind." Adele nods, and edges around the pile of staves just as carefully as Valen did. She knows why they are there: if anyone barges in, unaware of that particular defense line and stumbles on them in the dark, without having, for instance, a candle, a lamp or a torch, the staves will discharge their magical contents and disintegrate practically everything in the room. Deekin was insanely proud of that one, she remembers. "Let me see: what is here that is not lethal? Well, if I were a Tyrran, I could have carefully categorized everything in triplicates and would start to argue that, contrary to what some might believe, indeed everything here could be used for violent means." She shrugs. "But I am not one of my elder brethren, however much our deities stand side-by-side in the Triad, and…" She notices the expression on Valen's face and stops. "Oh, my apologies. Am I boring you with theology, general?"
"Well, let me see." Valen rolls his shoulders under the wide green pauldrons. "It has been some time since a lord of the Hells has been free in your world, and I'm afraid this should rapidly become very interesting… in a horrid, terrifying, 'get me out of here' kind of way, I mean. I'm very well aware that we should be discussing further implications of that fact and that, as you so succinctly put it earlier, 'we are in the Hells'." He lifts a hand. "And we shall, and soon… not merely because it affects both of us, but as it will affect those whom you are, no doubt, intent on summoning back the same way you did to me." His stern and somewhat tense visage softens then, and adds. "On the other hand, this is the first time you and I have been truly alone since what seems to be forever and that merits some time to…" and his cheeks slightly color, "…erm, savor it."
"Savor." Adele rolls the world around in her mouth and edges closer to him, rather aware that there is only so much space to move in the cramped little room. "That's a very... you-like way to put it." She tilts her head towards a reasonably clutter-free corner where Deekin and her set up a little sleeping nest with a pile of blankets and pillows, and a box of firewood and tinder next to it for emergencies. There are also two small camp stools and another bag with dry cured meat and hard biscuits in a tin as food rations, to complete the 'we might have to spend some time here to hide and stock up' line of thought. "So: sit and talk?"
"Sit and talk." Valen looks at her with raised eyebrows. "Do forgive me for even asking, my lady, but we could have 'sat and talked' out there by that charming pool and your somewhat taciturn and lately unhelpful friend whose hospitality we currently enjoy. Are we taking inventory of the… supplies here, or…?"
Adele grins. She can't help it: despite the fact that they do have a lot of things to discuss and plan, Valen, of course, is right.
Indeed, sitting and talking is the very last thing on my mind right now.
"Imp." She chuffs, wrinkling her nose, and makes herself comfortable on one of the stools in the corner, stretching her legs in front of her. But two can play that game, my general. "Actually, what I had in mind, believe or not, is to get out of armor for a while. I spent the past day in this," she raps a knuckle at her breastplate, "fought in it, got knocked about in it, got teleported in it, fought again, got stabbed in the chest despite of it, got killed and teleported and resurrected again … all without food or the chance to remove it, although getting the dents and stain removed during resurrection was nice. Much as the image of a paladin is that of an all-metal-clad warrior of stout heart and unshakeable will, there is a limit, I assure you." She leans forward and starts unlacing her gauntlets. "And although I am also aware that time here in the Gatehouse here flows differently from how we normally perceive it, as far as I am concerned, I was wearing this armor for way too long, and aim to get all of it off at least for a while."
"And here I was, trying to figure out a subtle yet irresistible way to get you out of the tin can." Valen sighs after a brief silence, punctuated by two clinks as Adele is done with her gauntlets and starts on her bracers. "Are you saying I should just wait and you'd do it anyway?" He rubs his chin. "Wait a minute, you're already doing it. I like this plan."
Adele snorts.
"I make you a deal. Help me with the backplate, I help you with yours, and I show you where I put the secret stash of food that doesn't taste like sawdust." She wiggles her eyebrows as the bracers join the gauntlets. "Can it get better than that?"
"You really are quite obsessed with food, you know? Especially for a paladin," Valen says with a content sigh, lowers himself on the other stool and starts to fiddle with his bootlaces. "Me, on the other hand… I'm an old soldier. When I get a break, all I want is sleep." He looks at Adele, whose features suddenly reflect utter disappointment, and lifts a finger, triumphantly. "Ha! I knew that would get you." He leans forward and pokes at her side with the same finger. "I win."
"Watch that finger, general, I am famously unreliable when tickled." Adele sniffs. Although the speed with which they are, yet again, easing back to an 'ages-old war comrades' mood, surprises her a little bit, it isn't exactly uncomfortable. On the contrary; it makes things clearer. Much clearer.
Sweet Lord of Duty, I don't even remember when I felt this comfortable with someone.
"So: I was wondering." Valen says, clearing his throat. He is watching her unbuckling her greaves, pauldrons and rerebraces and stacking them with neat military precision next to the little chest she stored some armor polish at an earlier trip 'just in case'. "Not that I am not enjoying the view from here, you understand, but you said something about me helping? You know, those buckles on the backplate that like to stick?" he adds, helpfully, as Adele lifts her head and stares at him.
"Ah-ha. You remembered that little accident at the island of the Maker, I see." Valen nods, with little sparkles dancing in his eyes, and smiling slowly: Adele grits her teeth. "You almost didn't get that armor on in time, my dear paladin, if I recall correctly. Something about not properly greasing the leather straps when cleaning them the last time, and…"
"Shut up, general." Adele growls, because really, there is only so much of this she can stand. "The torture of special envoys is usually frowned upon by civilized people." Unburdened almost fully from her armor, she slides off her stool, almost in time with Valen getting on his feet.
Almost, but not quite.
"Still faster than you," he whispers, threading his fingers through her hair to turn her face upwards, and dipping his head so his lips are almost, but not quite on hers. "My lady, we need to work on your agility training, I'm afraid."
"You wish to start…now?" Adele inquires in a somewhat shaky voice; Valen's fingers are now working on those backplate buckles, and they are very fast and efficient, indeed.
"Not necessarily." The last pieces of her plates fall on the floor with a resounding clang. "Although it seems to me that I am still a bit… overdressed for the occasion."
Adele snorts. Even with the plate bits off, she is wearing her mail hauberk, the padded gambeson underneath, the jerkin to which her leg armor was pointed… but yes, compared to Valen's intricate overlocking armor, bearing the unmistakable signs of being made in a fine drow workshop…
"We can't have that now, can we?" she murmurs, tugging his head down for another long and involved kiss, during which, somehow, her gambeson gets unbuttoned. "How did you do that, anyway?" she asks, somewhat bewildered between further kisses, and Valen laughs.
"I, perhaps, neglected to mention of a less savory chapter of my youth spent as a thief on the streets of Sigil?"
"Indeed you did." Adele says drily, her own fingers deciphering the intricacies of the catches on Valen's armor. "That, of course, would explain the times when you were able to open those locked doors without bashing them in various places and ….there!" she adds triumphantly as yet another pauldron joins the other pieces on the floor.
"One of the finest urchin pickpockets in the Hive." Valen breathes into that little space between her neck and collarbone, making Adele's mind going very happily blank for a second. Especially when he continues, voice slow and low. "But I, of course, retain no skills from that time. Misspent youth and all that."
"Clearly you require careful re-examination of youthful… transgressions." Adele inhales sharply: Valen somehow managed to unbuckle the belt holding her hauberk up and the weight is rather sudden on her shoulders and hips. "And I need to get this off," she adds, reluctantly stepping back. "Now."
She is glad her hair remained short: the hauberk slides easily over her head without catching—she'd done this countless times, but, unlike then, she doesn't even bother to pick it up and stow it carefully. She straightens, runs her fingers through her locks and grins up at Valen…
…and her breath catches as she sees the expression on his face, watching her. She knows that he's far older and infinitely more experienced, and part of her is terrified to her core of the fact that this man, this outsider, this absolutely unstoppable soldier of the Blood War, defender of a renegade drow city and self-professed good man can look at her like that.
Because really, what have I done to deserve it?
"Valen?" she asks haltingly, not quite believing what her eyes are clearly telling her. "What is it?"
"I'm just…" he starts, then shakes his head almost angrily and steps close again, to simply take her hand and twine their fingers together. "I'm just realizing that there's something I need to get off my chest because…" he breaks off again and swallows.
"It's all right." Adele whispers, her heart beating really, really fast. "I can take it."
"Of that I have no doubts as of late, my lady." A little mirth sneaks back into his voice and Adele feels lost again as he steps even closer and cradles her face between his palms. His skin is almost feverishly warm. "You do know that I'll have… difficulties here, right? A quarter-demon in the Hells?" Adele nods. "I might become… unpredictable, excessively violent, even to the point of not recognizing you but seeing you as…someone I must, by the command of my blood, eliminate." His face is very serious now: Adele looks into his eyes, clear and blue and infinitely sad. "You must understand that I do not wish to do that, that it would never happen under regular circumstances, and that I will fight it with every fiber of my being. My Taint has, for the lack of a better expression, has gotten used to your aura by now. You actually have a soothing effect on it, believe or not; there was a reason I started to feel more and more comfortable in your company as time went by, besides merely…enjoying it. I do not presume to insult you by not trusting you to understand the dangers of… getting involved with a tiefling ex-soldier of the Blood Wars. However…" and one of his hands tucks a stray golden lock behind her ear with slow tenderness. "You need to also understand something. Until you can fulfill your vow you made to help me to find a way to eliminate the Taint, I can… never fully let go when I am with you." His eyes search her face for an answer. "I will always have to hold back just a little bit, always have to be in control, always…"
"I understand, Valen." Adele surprises even herself how steady her voice is. "I'm no longer an eighteen-year old novice with the bouncy ponytail who was dazzled by the attention of the handsome knight in dazzling armor and saw challenges in every corner, so secure in her insecurity that she was willing to even defy the rules of her order to seek what she thought was love. I might not have your experience, but I've seen and done things myself these past years that made me at least start to understand the past errors of my ways and how to mend them. We are truly what we do when it counts." She turns her head slightly and breathes a kiss into Valen's palm. "And I trust you, with everything I have."
Valen bows his head, and lets out a long, shaky sigh. When he looks back up, his eyes are even brighter than they were.
"Thank you," he says hoarsely, and swallows. "My… life has been one of nothing but rage and despair, for a very long time. The most I ever wanted to aspire to after coming to the Prime and joining the Seer was gaining my humanity." One of his hands gently lifts Adele's chin. "But now… now I believe there's even something greater I should strive for," he says and Adele suddenly remembers that night in the Seer's Garden, when he almost said something about hoping that one day…
"I love you, my lady." Valen says into the absolute silence between them, a hair's breadth from her lips. "With all of my heart."
I should stop thinking now, because things just got so much more simple, it flutters through Adele's mind hazily; but then she realizes that she really, really should say something at this point as just standing there staring at Valen with her mouth hanging open is probably not the best answer…
"Gods," she chokes out and clears her throat; it feels like the weight of a mountain just got lifted off her shoulders and she grins so widely her mouth aches. "I'm…this is good." She presses her lips hard against Valen's before she speaks again. "Very good. I mean… this sounds absolutely idiotic to you most likely, but you had to say it first because…" She stops again, looking at Valen's bewildered face and her eyes widen. "Oh. Of course. I'm an idiot, you don't know about the code regulations, how would you, I mean, you're not from the Prime and even if you were, those are not exactly common knowledge and…I am babbling, am I not?"
"Indeed." Valen says drily, then tilts his head to the side. "Before you explain that, though… just so that I am not making an absolute idiot of myself: are you… reciprocating?"
"Dear Sune, goddess of love, of course I am." Adele says quickly and winds her arms about his neck. "And you have no idea how good it is to finally being able to say it." She traces a finger across Valen's cheekbones, up to the side of his face, his elegantly upswept ears. "I love you too, tiefling mine."
"Stop that." Valen grabs her finger and kisses it. "I'm enjoying it too much. You are… distracting, and dangerous and the most amazing woman I've ever encountered."
Unfair, Adele thinks, biting her lip as she realizes that Valen somehow managed to loosen the laces of her jerkin and his nimble fingers are stealing under the hem of her shirt to touch bare skin.
"Now tell me all about this code regulation thing you were talking about," he orders, on that command voice that makes her to obey almost unselfconsciously.
"Right." She feels just a little bit dizzy, but deems it permissible, considering the circumstances. "About that… You know I'm a paladin, right?"
"I am… somewhat aware of that fact, yes." Valen murmurs, his lips tracing a path on her skin from neck to just behind her earlobe. "Go on."
Ah, so this is how we are playing it… Adele's mind is groping for the words because Lord, that feels really, really good.
"So we are really… persuasive. Charismatic. Looking good in plate armor, always polite, excellent with words, usually impeccably groomed…"
"Usually." There's undeniable snicker in Valen's voice, and Adele resists the urge to point out that he's still mostly in armor while she… well, she is not quite sure what to call her present state of undress, but armored it most decidedly isn't. "Keep talking," he orders her again, mapping a path from her ear down her neck to her collarbone, while...
Dear sweet Ilmater's mercy… how many hands does he… Oh. Oh. Is that his tail?
"If you don't stop that right now, I'll knee you, and it will hurt," she warns, with as much sternness as the present situation allows her. "You're wearing way too much metal and despite what you might have heard about paladins, we do not care for armor chafing in sensitive places. You do not want me to pounce you just yet."
"Delicate flower, aren't we?" Valen chuffs, but arrests his hands and steps back obligingly, bowing a little at the waist. "Your wish is my command, my lady. If you would finish your explanation, I, in the meantime, shall make sure that there's…" and his eyes now positively smolder looking her up and down, "…no chafing."
And he's as good as his word, too. Adele swallows: she's never seen anyone getting rid of armor so fast. Of course, it helps that the drow design's interlocking plates and different catches make it a much less cumbersome exercise than human armor.
"So what paladins can't do at all is to just jump around declaring everlasting love to their… interests," she starts speaking quickly, because how unseemly it would be if she'd started to drool. Drow armor, the finest of which was awarded to Lith My'athar's general, has no underpadding as humans define it, and definitely not in several layers. What it does have under are sleek, tight black… things (calling them shirt or trews or whatever else is simply inadequate), made of fine spider-silk that cling to the skin and show every muscle's definition to the finest detail. She, of course, knew this… theoretically, but this now is more… personal, and for all that she's not exactly inexperienced, Adele's mouth suddenly goes terribly dry.
All right, this is a very serious part of the conversation, so get your mind back to it. And yes, it's definitely hot in here.
"We can't lie, obviously, and there are other signs of showing we're interested, but…" she pauses for a second to ignore Valen's imperious look, "really, since declaring our love first might be construed as unduly pressure, we're instructed to hold off until we hear it first from the ah, other party." She blushes a bit. "And before you ask, no, since I only ever had… experiences with other paladins, I hardly could…"
"What a fascinating world you holy warriors have." Valen holds out his arms. "There, see? No metal. Can I come closer now?"
"I thought you'd never ask." Adele laughs a bit shakily as Valen's arms enfold her, and she sniffs a bit into his shoulder. "Forgive me?"
"Blazes and demonfires, Lady, what for?" he asks, bewilderment in his voice. "For obeying your code? For making sure I wasn't some raging monster ready to rampage through the Planes as part of a nefariously sophisticated plan of evil? For having an actual life before you've met me?" His lips brush her hair feather-light. "You love me. I love you. For this quarter-demon, trying to stay sane and hoping only for a life that doesn't include constant bloodshed, it is more than he could ever hope for. Everything else, we can work with."
"Even with…" Adele swallows, "me dragging you to the Hells to try and contain an archdevil whom I let loose on the Prime myself?"
"Adele, love, listen." Her heart skips a beat upon hearing him call her 'love' the first time as he draws her down gently but with strong hands to sit on the pile of blankets in the corner and holds her by the shoulders so he can look her in the eye. "You're a bloody paladin: holy light against all evil, shining example of goodness… and, in addition to that, you're also the Seer's Savior, the warrior who came to save Lith My'athar from the Valsharess. You fought the person who threatened to eliminate an entire city and countless lives, and you killed her. What were you supposed to do, open your arms and say 'sorry, can't do it, the big red devil's bindings will break and he will be free'? Let them kill you instead?"
"It's worse than that, Valen." Adele wipes at her eyes and nose, angry at letting herself even that much weakness. "It turns out that the Reaper's Relic was nothing but an actual part of Mephistopheles himself; that through it, he and I were bound well before I even knew of the Valsharess' existence. That was the loophole that enabled him to defeat the Valsharess's commands at the end—that he wasn't quite in the summoning circle fully, and that's what landed me here." She exhales forcefully. "And you, by extension."
"I've fought devils for a long time, Adele. Longer than you've been alive, I told you that already: and I am very, very good at it. It's not my pride, it's facts. You had to summon me back; apart from the selfish considerations of wanting me alive, you're a good enough leader to know that with me by your side you have a true chance fulfilling this quest and find a way out of here." He shakes his head. "As long as I can contain myself not to get lost in my blood-rage and battle-lust, I am yours to command, in this life and beyond." One of his thumbs wipe gently at Adele's face where a tear has fallen. "And with you, I feel I can do anything."
"I am overcomplicating this, right?" Adele whispers, but she smiles now. "I'm sorry, I…"
"One more apology, lady," Valen says sternly, one hand sliding to the nape of her neck and Adele suddenly can't move at all, "and I shall not do what I am very much ready to do. Is that clear?"
"Yessir." It comes out more of a mumble than an acknowledgement, but the distinction becomes pretty much a moot point very rapidly after that.
Apparently I'm still wearing too much clothing, Adele thinks at a point, but only because although she loses the leather jerkin spectacularly fast, her shirt gets stuck halfway and she ends up with her hands awkwardly but definitely tied behind her in a tangle of soft silk delicately embroidered by the Seer's handmaidens in lilac and silver. It seems a lifetime since she donned that, back in her room on the upper floor of the temple, even though technically it was less than a day ago.
"Oh, I like that." Valen whispers into her ear, not sounding at all like a general right now and Adele's mind snaps back from past memories to the sensation of his teeth nibbling on her earlobe very, very slowly and gently. "Good shirt. We'll keep it just the way it is, I think."
"But I… I can't move my arms." Adele points out, somewhat frustrated but with perfect logic: she finally found the hem of Valen's shirt a few seconds ago and was very much looking forward to return the favor of removing it. "How am I supposed to…you know, to touch you now? Oh…" she adds, feebly, as Valen throws a look at her that one can only describe as 'well, yes'. "You mean that was… kind of the point?"
"Paladins." Valen shakes his head. "I see now: this is not so much about speed training, but more like… relaxation, patience and the value of appreciating the slower things in life?" he offers, head cocked to one side. "Hmm. Well, you'd probably say it like that," he adds, as he almost absentmindedly trails a finger down with exquisite slowness from Adele's neck down to her navel, and the only thing she can do is glare and bite her lip, because no, she still can't move those arms, and actually, when it all boils down to it, why should she?
"Me, on the other hand," Valen continues, tracing complicated patterns on her abdomen with one hand, while leaning on his elbow right next to her, their bodies almost, but not quite touching, "…well, I am not really a man of words."
"Fine." Adele measures between her teeth, practically seething. "You win. Happy? Now let me up."
"I won?" Valen opens his eyes wide and makes a rather unsuccessful attempt at looking innocent. "Does that mean you yield?"
"Wasn't aware this was an…" and she tilts her head, smiling slowly because gods, yes, she finally figured this one out, "…another sparring match." She stretches, arms above her head, back arching, and watches Valen's eyes darken with desire. "Is it, or are you open for… negotiations?"
"I think you should stop talking…right…about…now." Valen's voice is low, and his mouth covers her in a way that leaves no doubt in her: there will be no further discussions on the subject.
Not that she really minds, of course. It has, indeed been a long time, but she'd never felt, ever since her first time, so eagerly about getting rid of the last pieces of clothing and just getting lost in the sensation of bare skin against bare skin. There is an awkward moment with her rather tight breast-binding cloth, which incites some colorful words of profanity from Valen, but Adele vetoes the suggestion of using a dagger on it ('come on, this is my only pair, where would I get one in the Hells?') most firmly.
"And since my hands are still bound…" she says, arching her back just a little bit again, and giving him that look that, by now she knows, really has an effect on him, "…it has to be all you who's doing the heavy lifting here."
"Work, work, work." There's a grin on his face that makes Adele tingle in all the right places, and his fingers make quick work of the cloth. "You're, of course, a lucky woman."
And Adele does learn, in the next hour or so, very thoroughly, that this, in fact, completely and utterly true.