Rated: Fiction M - English - Romance/Adventure - Chapters: 208 - Words: 492,526 - Favs: 1 - Follows: 3 - Updated: Mar 30 - Published: Jan 8 - id: 14315791
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Out of the Shadows, Part 38
Piece by piece, you sift through all the myriad combinations of possible approaches as you lie there in your bed. You stare up at the ceiling, one arm wrapped around Khaytala, as the half-orc spoons Rysanial between the two of you. Kelissa's warm body lies splayed across yours, angled so her face is lower down the bed, the result of an intense bit of sixty-nining before exhaustion finally caught up with her. And while your women have moved a bit since then, in the unconscious shifting of sleep, the overall positions of this comfortable tangle of limbs have remained largely constant.
Your fingers absently trace along Khaytala's shoulder as you think, weighing dangers and benefits, until you finally come to a conclusion. Verika would be most useful keeping an eye on the situation in the Underworld. The situation is too chaotic to leave it unattended, and knowing what direction the political maneuvering is going may help you act with even more precision when the time is right.
The growing loyalist forces, meanwhile, can patrol the wider borders of the realm, keeping an eye on Kovora's broader stability and security. And Khaytala can keep Lily herself safe. Having the former caravan guard stand in protection of your mistress should ensure no harm comes to her regardless of Varthurg's schemes, and it will likely allow the two of them to bond some more as well.
Still, you can't put off dealing with Varthurg any longer. He's too much of a problem. Direct action through assassination might be risky, though, and you'd prefer not to tie Khaytala down here in case you need her elsewhere. But... maybe you can play two problems against each other?
After all, Varthurg's son is obsessed with Rysanial as a result of what she did to him. And a skilled temptress could very well twist that obsession into something useful. You're pretty sure that it's a challenge your succubus would relish, at any rate. If she can stoke the fires of need for her and resentment toward his father? If she can secretly feed the drive to prove himself after his shame, convincing him to make the fatal challenge himself... well, if that happened, who among the orcs could gainsay it?
You sit up, gently shifting Kelissa to the side. She murmurs in her sleep as you roll her away, but does not wake. If this is going to work, then it's Rysanial who will be taking on the most tricky assignment while you're gone, and so you decide to talk it through with her. Spend some time quietly scheming out exactly how this is going to work. Careful not to disturb the others, you reach down for Rysanial's shoulder in and attempt to snap her neck while she sleeps shake her awake.
Sucking in a quick breath, your hand freezes in midair, fingers trembling with the strain as you struggle to suppress the sudden, roiling urge to murder the sleeping succubus. Every heartbeat pounds in your temples, a sick, desperate rhythm. You can see the reddish-orange light from the furiously-glowing runes play across Rysanial's unaware face, as inch by inch you pull your hand away.
Finally you're able to roll off of the bed, stumbling across the room to collide with the far wall, slumping down it. Eventually the murderous impulses subside, leaving you sitting there in the silence, staring down at the three smoldering runes.
It's a sign of how utterly out of it you are that you almost don't notice Khaytala rising from the bed, walking over to you and sitting down to your right. "You okay?" she asks, quietly, concern in her voice.
You don't answer immediately. After letting the silence hang for a while, Khaytala speaks again. "This the same thing that happened back when we were training? Back in the caravan?"
That prompts you to glance over at her in surprise. Not so much that her warrior's senses alerted her to your struggle just now; in retrospect, you're not surprised it was enough to wake her. Still, you didn't expect her to connect it to your sparring match before. "...you noticed? Even back then?"
"Hard not to notice that something was off," Khaytala says simply. "You're usually a good actor. But that one time, after you took me down while we were fighting... it was the only time I've ever seen you actually lose your composure."
You exhale, then look back down at the menacing brand. "I... don't know what it is," you eventually admit. "I don't know why it picked me. I don't know what it wants. But... it's getting worse. All the previous times, there was at least some kind of... trigger... associated with it acting up like that. This time, though..." Your voice trails off, silence falling again.
Khaytala places a hand on your shoulder. It's a small touch. A simple gesture, especially compared to what you've been sharing all night... but there's something inexplicably reassuring to it all the same.
"Don't worry, Talavar," she says, and you can hear the unhesitating trust in her voice. "Whatever it is... you're not going to let some stupid magic decide what you do. We'll figure something out. I believe in you."
You lean back, your head thudding lightly against the stone wall, closing your eyes for a few more seconds as you center yourself. Then you glance over at Khaytala, giving her a small, grateful smile. "...thank you."
Silence falls again. But this time it's less strained, and more because nothing else needs to be said. Khaytala sits with you for the rest of the night, her larger frame right there next to you, keeping you quiet company as you wait out the remaining hours until dawn.
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