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Published: 2022-02-19 16:54:03 +0000 UTC; Views: 10045; Favourites: 67; Downloads: 0
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I'll be posting my story here as well! If you're interested in it, please feel free to follow my other account: ManuWrites
Thank you if you take the time to read it!
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CHAPTER 59: THRESHOLD
Lyra’s conversation with the twins lasted until dinner time. Malia enjoyed seeing her handmaiden passionately taking notes and asking questions, and it was refreshing to sit back and be silent, witnessing Licorice talk just as much as her sister for a change.
Malia sat by Lyra in the dining hall, aware of how long her human friends had been away from their comrades; the members of the rebellion seemed to be battling intensely for their leader’s attention, so the princess didn’t want to intrude unfairly. A hint of loneliness tainted her otherwise tasty meal as she gazed at Gorken, Aldous and Bayard from afar. Headquarters was their home in a way it would never truly be hers, and yet she couldn’t help but feel that the three young men belonged to her. How much of a spoiled child can I be?
Lyra was such delightful company that Malia’s dejection was short-lived, conquered by the blonde woman’s pleasant comments and humble giggles. Lyra was also an early riser though, so in no time the princess realized how much her friend needed to retire for the night. Only after walking her to Rose’s chamber and parting with her did Malia consider where to sleep herself. Hedera and Licorice were staying with Rose as well, but during her previous visits she had shared Gorken’s quarters, so those ended up as her first pick.
She knocked before entering, and the lack of response let her know he wasn’t there yet. She went in and relaxed on the familiarly uncomfortable couch, longing to rest but unwilling to make herself too at home and become an invading nuisance for Gorken. She noticed she had been drifting into slumber when a knocking on the door surprised her into sitting up.
“Yes?” she asked, but the one to open the gate was none other than the owner of the place. “Why did you knock before entering your own room?”
“I was under the impression this is our room now.” Gorken sat next to her on the couch, “What if I came in without warning and found you picking your nose?”
“What a gentleman.” She snorted humorously despite being genuinely grateful for his hospitality.
“How’s Lyra doing?” he rubbed his hair with a towel, still damp from the bath he had taken.
“Even better than I hoped! Magic lessons are going well and so is her rapport with the rebellion. Amsel and Petros are apparently doing a great job.”
“I’m glad her account matches their report. Those two are assuredly pleased with their new role as bodyguards.”
“What about you?” Malia said, “How are you doing? I haven’t seen you take a single break today.”
“You aren’t wrong.” He sighed, “It took all day to inform the Council of Elders and our comrades of what has happened. And since you brought it up: I am indeed in need of some sleep, so please do get off my couch. It’s your turn to sleep on the bed tonight, isn’t it princess?”
Malia rolled her eyes. She thought of arguing, but she honestly didn’t remember whose turn it was. She snuggled under the blankets, thankful to relish their warmth. She wished she could share that cozy comfort with Gorken… but there was something else there. A growing heat deep inside her, throbbing, spreading through her chest… and that one, too, she yearned to share with him. Once the candles were out, slim blackness shrouded the room. The quiet settled around them.
“Hey, Gorken.”
“Hm?”
“Technically speaking,” she murmured, “this bed is big enough for both of us.”
Gorken was taken aback. He sat up on the couch. He was afraid that in the dark lull, Malia would be able to hear his pounding heart. He didn’t know she partook of that same fear. “…Is that an invitation?”
“Do you want it to be an invitation?” Malia shifted under the covers.
“…I do.” He admitted softly.
A tremulous exhale escaped her, followed by a broad smile. She patted the narrow space on the bed next to her, gesturing him to join her. The lack of light was her ally in concealing her blushed cheeks. She didn’t know Gorken counted on that same ally.
Clumsily, lovingly, with darkness as their guide, they gifted each other many firsts. At times their pleasure bound them as one; and yet the undeniable, precious truth was that they were two.
When Gorken woke up the next morning, Malia was still asleep. She had her head on his bare chest and her arm around his torso, so he chose not to move. He put his arm around her and waited for her to awaken, her delicate breaths almost luring him back into nimble dreams.
Given that they would depart soon, neither of them had been assigned kitchen duty; they could take their time rousing and getting ready for the travel. “Are you feeling well?” Gorken hugged Malia from behind as she tied her hair into its usual ponytail. She replied with a tender kiss.
After Gorken was done imparting all the knowledge and instructions that needed to be reinforced, and after the Council was as satisfied as it would ever be with his detailed report, the time for farewells was upon them. Malia was relieved to see Rose clasping her doting arms around the twins, and saddened by the looks on the faces of the rebellion members as Aldous, Bayard and Gorken said their goodbyes. As irrational and self-centered as it was, the princess couldn’t help but feel guilty, as if she was the one snatching the three men from them.
Ever since Hedera and Licorice had regained their true form, fallen demons rarely hindered their journeys, so the trip to the Gray Forest progressed rapidly. It was hard not to wonder about the benefits enlisting the help of other ancient demons could have brought, about how the fallen might have even stopped being a concern altogether… but that thought was a groundless pathway, a shadow on the wall.
Just as Kadem’s lair was within sight, so was her mane of silver hair shimmering beneath the tree tops. “I could sense you coming.” She said as way of greeting, “I’m already preparing lunch. We’ll talk after we’re done eating.”
The three humans went eagerly into the tree-house, followed by the ancient demons. No one looked forward to tasting Kadem’s cooking, but hunger born of travelling was seldom fussy.
“What’s the matter, Plum?” the silver witch noticed Malia hadn’t moved, “It’s unlike you not to rush toward the prospect of food.”
“…Before that… I would like a word with my master.”
The contained tremor of Kadem’s features was all Malia needed to see, as if the princess had witnessed it all before, or dreamed it, or imagined it, or dreaded it. Nonetheless, it was her duty to watch it to the unwanted end. She wouldn’t avert her eyes.
“Follow me, then.” Kadem said at last.
Malia closely retraced the silver woman’s steps, trailing after her as she circled the clearing that cradled her home. They stopped in front of a large tree in fool bloom, its golden flowers dancing weightlessly around them to the tune of the soft breeze. Malia didn’t dare move, or talk, or think. All she could handle was to behold the bustling swaying of the petals as she awaited Kadem’s next deed.
Finally, the silver witch parted her lips, “I buried Gabrielle’s corpse here. This tree grew from it in a matter of days.”
A gasp caught in Malia’s throat, a recognizable dagger twirled her innards. It wasn’t new, it wasn’t unexpected. She knew the taste of grief, the tinge of regret, the memory of grateful love. She walked closer to the tree, placing a hand on its trunk, “…I’m happy the sun can still reach her.” Her tears glistened gold, reached by that same sun.
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