Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

His eyes closed shut as he flicked his wrist.

The sudden sound of dampened rain tapping against window glass filled the space, resonating throughout his chamber. It was calming, it's steady rhythm promising to not let up anytime soon.

Snapping his fingers, the light in the room extinguished. Still, dim and damp. Placid darkness washed over his closed eyelids, enveloping his mind with the welcome vision of cool nothingness.

A wave of his hand called a distant thunderous boom that echoed in his ears, hinting at the rage of a forthcoming storm.

Sitting motionless, hands folded, he quietly concentrated on the building tempest. Impatiently, he willed the calm to wash over him.

Droplets fell down the back of his neck, the damp collar of his robes brushing his skin.

The sound of the rain grew less dampened and more violent - threatening the glass rather than tapping it. The distant thunder reared its anger and began to roar in his ears.

He breathed in deep, holding the breath tight within his chest. The chaos of storms had always brought him such wistful peace.

Calm finally washed over him. His fingers tingled ever so slightly, laced together, the hint of a faint breeze enveloping them. Exhaling restfully, he savoured the moment of reprieve.

For it was the only moment he had. A sudden knock at the door broke his concentration.

Frustratedly he slumped his elbows onto the desk, cradling his head in his hands. Sighing painfully, the wave of calm dissipated as the cruel, relentless light came flooding back. The overbearing heat of the room engulfed him once more, choking and suffocating.

The sweat that trickled down his neck was now at his lower back. He could feel his robes clinging to his skin, his mask uncomfortably hot against his temple.

His chamber was like a personally contained hell - fire and brimstone metaphorically included. He cursed himself for not having come up with a better solution for indoor cooling than damned ice crystals. How did such a pitifully common resource become rarer than precious metals anyway? He made a mental note to ask the treacherous leech Hythlodaeus later.

Brushing a strand of damp, sweat laden hair behind his ear with his thumb, he sat up exhaustedly, placing his hands flat upon the desk.

"You may enter."

The door opened, a robed figure entering swiftly.

"The time draws near, Emet-Selch."

His gaze turned from the robed figure to the window across the room. Brutal, vicious sunlight swamped through the glass, illuminating and heating the tile that adorned his floors to an ungodly temperature.

It would have been an almost-beautiful sight to behold or admire if it weren't so damningly hot. The heat had addled his brain to the point where even just thinking about it made him sweat.

His chair slid silently against the tile as he stood up, feeling his robes unstick momentarily from his back, sending unpleasant shudders up his spine.

"I will join you, Lahabrea. Although once again, I must tell you that a greeting goes a long way before spouting ominous prophecies."

Lahabrea looked blankly. ”A greeting?”

”Yes. A greeting. Like ‘hello’ or ‘well met’. Something to announce that you come in peace, rather than… well, that,” he replied, flicking his wrist in his direction, returning his gaze to the desk, searching for his notes.

Lahabrea, still staring blankly, nodded. He turned sharply, heading the way he came in.

Hearing the door close, he exhaled frustratedly, willing his brain to think clearly.

Looking down at his desk, he scanned for the plans he had drawn earlier. Grabbing them and rolling them up tight, he placed them into the pocket of his robe and turned for the door.

***

"Greetings, Lahabrea," Elidibus called as they entered the convocation hall together. His resounding voice was assured and unwavering, arms wide in welcome.

"I come in peace, " Lahabrea replied, head down and hand ominously pointed to the sky as he walked hurriedly past the Emissary.

Elidibus sighed, shaking his head, muttering to himself. He took a deep breath, looking back up.

"Ah, welcome, Emet-Selch. I hope the walk here was... pleasant," he said, looking worriedly back at Lahabrea. ”I look forward to hearing and discussing your latest designs. Please," he motioned, gesturing at the benches where the others had gathered.

Emet nodded in turn, following Lahabrea’s steps down the aisle. Taking their seats on an empty bench on the left side of the aisle, he relished the feel of the cool marble against his back. The room was arid and dry - a veritable hellscape at best - but the benches retained an inkling of relief. Although his robe was stuck quite uncomfortably to his back, it was malms better than the leather that adorned his office chair.

Crossing his legs, he leaned his elbow upon them, cradling his chin in his palm. He could feel the boredom already festering within. These meetings were always dull. Eyes darting around the room, he desperately looked for something of interest, taking stock of the attendees.

Nabriales was deep in debate with Pashtarot across the aisle, both arguing passionately. Altima sat slightly apart from Mitron and Loghrif, all of whom were listening intently.

Intermittently, they commented between each other. They were a trio that were nigh inseparable on such occasions as Convocation meetings. If there were ever a vote, you could always count the three as one mind.

Igeyorhm and Emmeroloth sat a few benches back, talking quietly amongst themselves. A ruthlessly cunning pair, the former cold and calculating, the latter reserved and relentless. As if they could sense him staring, Emmeroloth looked up at him briefly, before slyly smiling and leaning in towards Igeyorhm, lips whispering wordlessly.

He wondered half interestedly what they were discussing in such hushed tones. Schemes and gossip no doubt. Brilliant members they were, but no scandal or secret was safe once they passed the bearer’s lips around them. Occasionally it was amusing to hear the latest rumors flying about, he could at least attest to that. As far as trusting them with matters of sensitivity though, he wouldn’t bet anything of value to say it would stay such.

"...which is very interesting news indeed, dear Lahabrea. Do you agree, Emet-Selch?"

Emet's gaze snapped blankly to Lahabrea and then Halmarut, his train of thought interrupted. "I apologize. This heat is addling my brain. Did you mention something of news?"

Halmarut gave a friendly smile, chuckling. "I agree, my friend. The intensity of this summer has certainly taken its toll on many. I found myself wondering where my flesh ends and garb begins when I stepped outside this very morning."

Emet feigned a smile as politely as he could muster, sitting up straight against the marble. He laced his fingers together and pressed them against his thigh. The thought of Halmarut's weeping, sticky flesh was not something his mind's eye was willing to conceptualize at this very moment.

Although perhaps it were more interesting than thinking about how hot this room was. Even with the marble being a slight reprieve, the moisture that gathered behind his knees was disgustingly aggravating.

"As for my news, I was merely mentioning to Lahabrea that today's meeting will be more attended than usual."

Emet's eyes lowered, the fake smile turning into a questioning furrow. "Are we expecting a group of eager school children again?"

He didn't mind when they had groups of children sit in on meetings. They were usually quiet enough; forgetting they were even there more often than not. Although, he didn't know why they would want to sit in on these meetings. They were placid and methodical. Downright dull most times. Not much for education, much less entertainment.

He would much rather go to the theatre, - or better - the opera. The drama! The music. The flare. Now that was worthy of being called entertainment. The world's greatest tragedies played out on stage. The finest compositions of music sung by the most talented and complex voices of the age. Who could ask for a better education?

Why would a group of children be considered news, anyhow? Were world events so mundane currently that a field trip to the Convocation was considered noteworthy? Truly, what dull times to be alive.

"Azem," Lahabrea whispered eerily, staring at the ceiling, fingers curling as if he was grasping something in the air.

Halmarut nodded worriedly, face furrowing at him. ”I-... ah… yes. Our dear Azem has returned. Now please, excuse me,” he said before waving curtly, walking away to a lone Deudalaphon just a little too quickly to be casual.

For just a split second, Emet's whole body froze. His eyes widened and his breath hitched, fingers turning white as they squeezed tight in their lace upon his thigh. Glad of Lahabrea's current.. well… whatever he was doing distraction, his heart thumped decidedly quicker.

She had returned.

Suddenly very aware of his current state of dishevelment, he shuddered. His mask clung uncomfortably to his face, robes sticking to his sheening skin. His hair was damp and slightly matted. Slyly, he unlocked his hands and pulled his hood up, lacing his fingers once more after.

"Members of the Convocation, this meeting is now called into effect."

All eyes snapped up and talking ceased as Elidibus' steadfast voice boomed in the chamber. He strode magnificently down the center aisle between the rows of benches to the front of the room.

"I thank you all for joining today as we have much to discuss and debate. I hope you have all been hale and whole. Today’s agenda is lengthy, so I would get us started. Firstly, I would welcome Loghrif to speak on her studies of inorganic matter in dynamic biosystems."

Emet's eyes immediately darted to the scene he had been waiting for as he watched Loghrif stand, squeezing Mitron's hand before walking to the center of the room.

"Thank you, Elidibus. Fellow convocation members, after an extensive study on multi-cellular plant life within Ana-"

Her voice theatrically trailed off into the background as his mind fervently replayed the gesture over and over again. They did it every time one parted from the other, without fault. Almost as if by second nature.

A light squeeze, lingering momentarily. Then, wistful disconnection.

There was nothing inherently special about the act. Replaying it again, he could sense the familiar unknown feeling deep within his chest. He couldn't place what intrigued him so. Why was this particular sight something that plagued his brain? Why did he look for this act every time they were in a meeting? Why did they do this every single time?

Was it for the purpose of reassuring each other? Did it happen unconsciously as a parting gesture? Perhaps a show of affection? Such defined, curved lines. Steadfast hands brushing, embracing one another.

He was not an anatomist by any means, but he could attest to the knowledge that hands fascinated him. Enamored him. Endlessly. Such marvelous tools of creation. Expressive, flexible tools used for the most mundane to the most complex tasks.

His eyes snapped to Mitron, who sat attentively, hands folded neatly in his lap. His eyes traced the lines of his posture, narrowing slightly.

They had been lovers for what seemed like longer than he could recall in his memory. Never without each other, or at least it seemed so. To see one without the other would indeed sound grave tidings.

"What then is the impact of our very beings on the balance, Loghrif? If what you claim is to be true, then does every inorganic artifact we create affect the organic flow of our planet?" Nabriales buffered, holding his hand out in question.

Emet's ears pricked at the discourse, eyes darting to observe the exchange. His attention faded away as Loghrif started her rebuttal, mind drifting back to its previous course of thought.

The pair were always unquestioningly a unit, their aether inextricably interwoven and entwined. Whether it was the way they debated, or the way they walked in tandem - or even when they were merely sitting next to each other -the colour of their souls were remarkably similar. Two halves of one whole.

To coexist as one. What a thought. To be sundered without the other even when you are whole. What a fascinating yet terrifically terrifying way to live an eternity. Having someone to love so deeply you cannot exist fully without them.

Something as simple as the squeeze of a hand, signifying so much yet having such little consequence.

"Hello stranger. Have you missed me?"

A quiet, chaste whisper merely an ilm from his ear.

He flinched ever so slightly away, violent shudders ripping up his spine. Pulse shooting to his neck, his fingers desperately gripped his thigh, knuckles turning white.

A soft, breathy laugh that sounded like music rang in his ears, before a faint brush of air against his hood.

She leaned up and walked around the corner of the bench, her robes fluttering around her ankles, sitting down gracefully half a fulm away.

"I've missed you," she hushed, a precious smile enveloping her lips.

He shallowly exhaled. The feeling of non-environmental heat threatened his neck. Drawing his hood had been a fortuitously strategic move.

"Welcome back, flippant traveler," he replied in a low, spiteful voice.

"Flippant? My goodness Emet-Selch, you wound me so," she whispered, bringing her hand to her chest, feigning shock.

The unidentified feeling in the recess of his chest pulsed as his eyes glanced sideways stealthily. Her hand clutched at the pendant she wore around her neck; a small circle of crystalline amber, the alchemical symbol for the sun inlaid with imbued spun gold.

He dragged his eyes back to the center of the room. "Mayhap 'shallow' is the better word," he uttered. "Perhaps... 'aloof'. 'Thoughtless'? No. Too uninspiring."

Her hand dropped down to her side, a small sigh escaping her lips. She turned her head, facing him. "I'm sorry."

Emet could feel his pulse rage in his ears, like the thunder he willed so eagerly earlier. His mask felt just a little bit tighter than usual, his robes heavy against his frame.

"Please know I left out of necessity. I... I had to."

Her hand twitched slightly, as if she were thinking about raising it.

"Thank you, Loghrif. You have given us much and more to think on. I look forward to the coming debate and discussion on what you have uncovered," Elidibus' voice rang, cutting through the chamber.

Emet's eyes snapped up at the Emissary, his arms crossed tight against his chest. The woman continued to stare at him for a moment longer, before turning her head forward also.

"I ask Emet-Selch to stand forth and speak on the installation of our newest city features."

Emet rose almost immediately, avoiding any further discussion. He pulled the roll of paper out from his robe pocket. The black hem fluttered regally as he walked forward, stopping to turn and face the crowd.

With a snap of his fingers, the map in his hands disappeared with a bright light, before suddenly, a giant, precisely handcrafted map of Amaurot spanned the speaker's circle behind him. Beautifully drawn and expertly adorned, glowing cerulean dots littered the masterpiece. Whispers of speculation and appreciation filled the room.

He cleared his throat silently, placing an arm behind his back. Silence felled the chamber. Turning to face the map, he began to speak.

"As I'm sure we're all aware, the ice crystal shortage we are faced with has proved to be a most uncomfortable experience."

Murmurs of agreement sounded from the crowd.

"In an effort to find a solution, we have designed and installed several water features around the city, intended for public use to combat the heat. Rather than our traditional method of individual cooling systems - which require more resources than currently in possession - we have pooled our remaining allotment of crystals and designed a temporary reactive vacuum system. In effect, we are using our remaining crystals to keep the water cool in these features via an underground circular ventilation system."

He turned to face the crowd, expression neutral.

"The dots serve as the locations of said features, with one at every major intersection and outside every district office. Make use of them as you please. They will be running continuously throughout this hellish season. I would ask that we remind citizens to think twice before conceptualizing fire aspected creations, lest we lose the last of these crystals too. "

A wave of his wrist and the map disappeared from behind him, materializing as the rolled paper in his hand. Tucking it back into the fold of his robes, he stood in stance, both hands behind his back.

"Any questions?"

Excited chatter began amongst the Convocation as he glanced around the room, impatience lingering at the corner of his lips.

Satisfied, he took a step forward, before the robed woman stood up swiftly. He halted, sighing silently.

"Azem. Welcome back from your travels. We hope to hear your latest reports of the world beyond in the coming days," Elidibus boomed, the room falling silent once more.

"Thank you, Elidibus. I have much and more to impart on the happenings of our world in due course. But first, I have a question for our revered architect," she said, a hand pointed towards the sighing Ascian.

Elidibus nodded curtly. She stepped forward, staring directly at Emet, a coy smile on her face.

"If we are meant to submerge ourselves in these water pools, surely we cannot in this garb," she said, hands gesturing over her torso. "What are we to wear?"

Emet rolled his eyes heavily, his shoulders slumping down an ilm. She did her best to bite back her laugh, stifling her grin.

"Azem has the right of it," Nabriales chimed from his seat. "What indeed is the standard?"

Conversation began quickly, the room springing to life.

"You can wear your blasted nameday suits for all I care," he muttered brazenly, feeling the frustration breed within. He was uncomfortably damp, heat overwhelming every sense he had the misfortune of having.

She stood there grinning, her disgustingly sly smile audaciously aggravating him. After all she had done... It was maddening beyond belief.

He did not have the patience for this, least of all the brain capacity to manage his thoughts and emotions simultaneously. All he craved was to retreat to his chamber and will the tempest to wash over him once more.

"Fortuitously, I believe that my latest travels have supplied the solution," she spoke, lips pursed spryly.

"Oh, of course you have the answer. To the very question you asked. How insightful," he growled to himself, hands gripped tight behind his back.

"May I?" she asked earnestly, looking at Elidibus, taking a step forward.

Elidibus motioned for her to continue. She nodded in thanks and strode forward. Emet took the chance to return to his spot upon the bench. He sat, legs crossed, arms wound tightly across his chest. She stood confidently, glancing directly at him.

It made him sneer.

"Whilst I was amongst the citizens of Goetica, I was introduced to the most marvelously practical concept. You see, they too experience sordidly harsh seasons. It's bitterly cold during the majority of the yearly planet cycle up there. In an effort to combat this, they have built what they call 'balaneions'."

Murmurs of piqued interest elicited from the crowd, the room abuzz with curious excitement.

"Not unlike the concept of our new water features; balaneions are vast, communal areas which are dug into the ground above places naturally brimming with geothermic aether. They are lined with stone or tile and then filled with water. Just how ours have been designed to circulate cool water, theirs are designed to naturally heat and cycle hot water. Citizens spend many hours in these communal spaces together. I have even seen trade deals made between merchants, sidled away in a corner, water up to their chests. It's a wonderfully fascinating ecosystem."

Emet huffed irritatedly, his foot tapping against the tile. Azem never could arrive at a point without first explaining the entire history of how the point came to be.

"So as to the question of garb for Amaurotines, I have coincidentally found a solution in the people of Goetica! They call it... a 'bathing suit'."

Repetition of the words echoed from the benches, captivating the Convocation.

"It's a rather unique garment. Unlike our unisex attire, the bathing suit appearance changes for every person. It is made of a water repellent material that aids flotation and shaped to maximize hydrodynamic movement. I will conceptualize an example for you. Lahabrea, if you would indulge me for a moment," Azem spoke expertly, focusing her gaze on him.

Lahabrea stood up. He turned his head to her, leaning in close to her neck. He sniffed the air around her, before leaning back and facing the front of the room, his voice emotionless as he stared at the wall. "My hands are clean."

”I… Uh...My... thanks,” she said warily, stepping sideways rather quickly as Lahabrea stood beside her, rigid and staunch.

Azem waved her hand gracefully in the air, fingers flexing and curling. She held the silence of the chamber for a split second, before clicking her fingers.

Loud gasps elicited from the audience, before turning to excited chatter and incredulous stares. Lahabrea stood, his robes gone, replaced with nothing but his mask and a tightly fitted pair of black trunks that extended down to above the knee, waistband resting across the dip of his hip bones. They sheened along with his messy blonde hair in the light, hugging his muscular thighs.

She stood back and admired her handiwork. You couldn’t help but appreciate the view. He looked very handsome in the threads she had woven for him.

Lahabrea looked down, observing his new garb blankly. Emet smirked, biting the inside of the corner of his lip. He stifled the urge to laugh. How appallingly revealing. He had never seen this much of Lahabrea’s flesh. He couldn’t deny that she had picked a most strategic model to present the controversial conceptualization to. It was not an unpleasant sight to see. The whole ordeal bordered on the edge of scandal. Eagerly, his eyes swept the room, gauging reactions.

Elidibus stood straight, arms crossed in contemplation. Loghrif, Mitron and Altima were talking amongst each other excitedly. Nabriales was focused, a wondrous look on his face as he studied the model. Igeyorhm and Emmeroloth were in a whispered frenzy, huddled close together, staring intently at Lahabrea.

"For those of the fairer sex," Azem spoke, smile simpering. Content with the caliber of everyone's reactions, her eyes turned, staring directly into his. She clicked her fingers once more. "The female conceptualization."

His eyes widened, quickly darting away. Finding a spot on the wall to stare at, a shallow breath hissed from his lips.

How dare she. Fire burned in his chest as his fists clenched, knuckles turning white. His throat was parched, full of brimming rage..

Azem stood delicately, legs crossed, arms out and fingers pursed. Her golden eyes sparkled through the holes in her mask, long, shining hair cascading messily over her shoulders, coming to rest below her collarbones. Her skin contrasted stunningly in the light against the black fabric that decorated her..

A sleek one piece adorned her curves, planate against her athletic figure. Thin straps settled divinely on her shoulders, attached to a curved neckline that plunged flirtily, a hint of cleavage poking through. Her legs were bared - strong, toned thighs posing exquisitely. She spun around elegantly, hair whipping playfully around her shoulders.

”What say you, my most esteemed colleagues?” she asked, positively beaming. ”Function and dare I say it… a little bit of fun?”

To be completely honest, even if they dismissed the idea altogether it would have been a roaring success. She understood the Amaurotine dress and respected the ideals and reasons why they dressed the way they did; but after all of her time travelling and meeting every walk of life this planet had to offer, how they dressed and how they adapted to life’s cycles - she didn’t see why they couldn’t adapt also.

Her eyes darted around the room, chest brimming with anxious excitement. She had taken a calculated risk. Baring so much skin seemed almost unthinkable. If she could just convince them of the practicality and functionality, the idea stood a chance.

The anticipation was unbearable.

”How... marvelous!” Halmarut exclaimed, breaking the silence ecstatically, placing his hands together. ”Is this truly what they wear in these ‘balaneions’? Absolutely fascinating! Immeasurably wonderful!”

Emmeroloth stared intently at Azem, studying the suit closely. Igeyorhm’s eyes were engulfing Lahabrea behind her mask, body still, but leaning forward just the slightest ilm. Nabriales stared with immense curiosity, while Pashtarot looked stunned, mouth agape.

”Well said,” Altima added, fascinated, gazing between the two models. ”A marvelous concept indeed.” Loghrif and Mitron nodded in near perfect unison. ”We also are agreeable to the concept.”

Azem couldn’t contain her grin, nodding to the trio in thanks. She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing. She swore she could hear the eye rolling coming from the architect out of her view. Darting her eyes over, she saw him staring at the wall, uninterested.

”What say you, Elidibus?” Nabriales asked, hands gripping the edge of the bench.

All eyes in the room snapped to the Emissary, who still stood staunch at the back of the circle. Elidibus walked forward, eyes scanning all of the members behind his mask. Silence rang in the hall, with naught but his footsteps against the tile to break it. Turning to face the models, he evaluated them quietly, face expressionless. Azem couldn’t help but subtly arch her back the slightest half-ilm as his gaze ran over her chest and down her torso. She felt a prickle of warmth in the pit of her stomach. She hoped the architect was watching.

Lahabrea straightened slightly as the Emissary’s attention focused on him. He took a moment to contemplate, before taking a step closer. ”May I?” he asked.

Lahabrea nodded silently, expressionless. Elidibus bent over, reaching out a gloved hand. His fingertips ran along the waistband, following the line with precision. They trailed down over the side seam, brushing the side of his knee. Lingering a moment, he stood up, pulling away.

Azem’s smirk was indulgent. She mused silently to herself, watching the exchange.

”And you, Lahabrea?” he asked. Lahabrea looked down once more at the trunks, running his thumb over where Elidibus’ had traced the line on his waistband. ”What say you? It will be your task after all to create these.”

If Lahabrea were thinking anything, his face did not show it.

”They are…”

Azem bit her lip, awaiting the verdict.

Lahabrea was as stationary as a statue, staring, head bent.

The apprehension was painful, the quiet of the room lingering. It was almost awkward.

”...smooth,” he said deadpan looking back up at Elidibus, his face devoid of expression.

There was silence. Deafening silence.

”I…” Elidibus stuttered, eyes blinking in confusion. ”Yes… you... Lahabrea... I... If there is a... a majority,” he announced, coughing awkwardly.

He turned to face the convocation, eyes narrowed in confusion. Slowly, they began to murmur with agreement, chatter beginning to pick up once again. ”Very well. Send the details to the bureau for mass conception after the meeting. Thank you, Azem.”

Azem couldn’t contain her glowing smile, bowing respectfully to Elidibus. Snapping her fingers, a bright flash of aether washed over her and Lahabrea, robes fluttering into place as they settled upon their frames once more.

Emet’s eyes remained averted, fists clenched tightly at his sides as the pair sat back down either side of them. He breathed shallowly through his nose, skin sheening. Azem stared, studying his expression and body language. Cold. Hurt. Unfeeling. Her smile fading, she sighed softly, leaning back against the marble bench.

”Nabriales, I believe you are next up on the agenda to speak on-” Elidibus began, before squinting down at his notes. He looked up, stern face radiating annoyance. ”No, Nabriales. Not again.”

Nabriales stood defiantly, hands outwards gesturing peacefully. ”Come, Elidibus. This matter is of great import. Let us discuss and debate the topic to the extent it deserves.”

Pashtarot sighed dramatically, tugging Nabriales back down to the bench by the back of his robe. ”Sit, lest you make a fool of yourself.”

Nabriales groaned in protest, turning to face his reluctant debate partner. ”My dearest friend, I would be a fool to not lend the full extent of my voice to this cause.”

Pashtarot shook his head, eyes closed beneath the mask. He shot a begging look to Elidibus, mouthing a silent plea for help.

"As we discussed thoroughly at our last meeting, Nabriales, we simply cannot colonize and domesticate bumble beetles simply because you find them… charming," Elidibus recited, placing his palm to his temple, voice faltering at the final word with weariness.

Nabriales stood up again, shirking the preemptive hand of Pashtarot off the cloak of his robes. "Then let us enter into a discourse about the issue anon! I will persuade you to see the many benefits of my crusade."

Azem couldn't help but giggle as she watched the passionate debate in action. As much as she adored visiting the far reaches of the world, she always loved to come back to Amaurot. It truly was a world within its own; filled with bright, colourful characters - even if their garb did not suggest so.

Meetings were not her thing generally. She found them rather mundane. She would much rather spend her fleeting time in the city with the company of her closest companions. Her fondest and most cherished memories of Amaurot held the picture of the three of them together.

Her and Hythlodaeus up to a respectable amount of mischief, Emet-Selch glaring in the background, but always present. They were a team. Trusted companions that she dared to love deep within her heart.

Glancing back to Emet briefly, she felt a pang of sadness rise within her chest. His gaze far from hers, mind wandered elsewhere far beyond her reach. What she would give to be able to reach into whatever daydream he was having and tug him back into reality. Into her. She wondered if he had missed her at all. She had been gone for much longer than usual this time. She wouldn’t blame him if his feelings had cha-

"WHY ARE YOU SO AFRAID, ELIDIBUS?! WHY ARE YOU AFRAID TO LET BEAUTY INTO YOUR HEART?!”

Everyone's eyes snapped immediately towards the sound, the cries echoing harshly off the chamber walls - Emet-Selch included.

"Cease this display of theatrics, Nabriales. Surely you are not so passionate about… about bumble beetles that you quicken to anger," Elidibus uttered hastily, very aware that all eyes were on him.

"I do not know why you will not see reason, dear Emissary. I apologize for my outburst but I fear I am not to be heard otherwise!" Nabriales retorted, standing his ground solemnly in his stance.

"Oh, for the love of-" Emet-Selch stood suddenly, his cape whipping behind him with the jolted movement. Silence befell the chamber. He strode a few steps to the aisle, turning to look at Elidibus. "I am bold enough to assume that there is nothing left on the agenda that requires my presence so I will take my leave. I bid you all farewell."

He bowed his head to the Emissary, before heading down the aisle to the entrance.

The large, heavy thud of the doors closing resonated in the hall.

"What plans do you have to colonize and domesticate these creatures, Nabriales?" Loghrif's voice rang, cutting the silence. ”If you care so deeply, you must have action in mind.”

"A most astute observation, sister!" Nabriales beamed, turning to face the rest of the convocation. "I have devised a multifaceted plan that encompasses..."

The discussion droned into the background as Azem stared longingly at the door. Looking around quickly, she whispered a quick goodbye to Lahabrea - who flared his nostrils twice before grunting emotionlessly in reply - before slipping off the bench, heading towards the exit.

***

The tails of her robes fluttered behind her as she weaved quickly through the streets. The large twists and turns of the labyrinthine city were second nature as she navigated her way to her destination..

She knew there was no chance of getting through the front door. Taking a sharp left through a small walkway, she hitched up her robes, cringing slightly at the feeling of the damp fabric unsticking from her skin. With a deep breath and a quick burst of aether, she jumped and ricocheted in a 180 degree angle off the wall, grabbing hold of the iron railing that surrounded the first floor balcony.

Pulling herself up with a heave, she hopped the railing, feet landing flat on the balcony. Looking up, she found herself sighing heavily, her heart rate already shamefully fast. One down. Five to go.

It was far too hot for this. She felt like a puddle of skin and sweat. Stretching her arms and shaking out the frustration, she took a breath. Another leap and she was poised on the top of the rail.

She heaved, climbing fluidly, hoisting herself and pulling herself upwards. After the third rail, touching down on the landing, she wiped her forehead while panting heavily. Sweat covered her back and drenched her robe. She could feel them re-glued to her skin, the stiflingly overbearing feeling making her want to shed her skin. She felt suffocated, between the breathlessness and the constriction.

”Oh confound it,” she whispered, clicking her fingers. A flash of aether wrapped around her for a split second, breathing a sigh of relief as it dissipated. The sweat that sheened across her back cooled slightly as the dry air hit her skin. Her hair fell down onto her shoulders messily as the hood disappeared. Her bathing suit shimmered in the sunlight, stark black against her pale skin. A slight smile spreading across her face, she laced her fingers and cracked her knuckles. She had never looked this good breaking and entering.

Spinning around, she slyly went to admire her reflection in the glass of the window. She turned, bending over slightly to admire the curve of her hips.

Suddenly, the large curtain flew open to reveal a large cloaked figure; it’s scared, curious face gawking at her.

Shrieking loudly, she fell backwards, arms braced against the railing. Eyes wide and chest heaving, she stared solemnly at the stranger behind the glass.

There was a moment of stillness, both of them frozen in shock.

Slowly, the stranger behind the glass raised his hand, cocking his head, giving a small wave.

Azem's cheeks flushed violently with heat, feeling it flood down her neck. She was suddenly incredibly aware that she was standing on this person's balcony, dressed in nothing but her skimpy bathing suit and her mask, clinging onto his railing for dear life.

Unclasping one arm, she waved back meekly. She didn’t know what else to do.

The figure's hand dropped back to his side as he looked around awkwardly. A few moments of excruciatingly embarrassing silence later, he looked back. Extending his index finger, he motioned it around in a circle questioningly.

She nodded gratefully, mortified shock still plastered on her face. The figure nodded understandingly. Looking ill at ease for a moment, he gave another awkward wave, turning around hurriedly.

Exhaling shakily, her palms sweating, she turned and gripped the railing, launching herself upwards to the next one, disappearing from his view. Exhilaration brimmed in her chest, mixed with the shame and embarrassment on her cheeks. Climbing up onto the ledge of the fourth railing, she peeked to make sure there were no more bystanders, before pulling herself up.

One more to go.

Her heartbeat now firmly in her ears, she took one last deep breath before crouching expertly on the balls of her now bared feet, ready to jump. She pushed off the railing, hands grasping desperately onto the iron bars of the one above. A final heave and she crawled up and over, collapsing onto the balcony.

Laying on the hot flooring, her chest heaved. Catching her breath, she stood up shakily, placing a hand against the window to brace herself. For all she was - a revered diplomat and a formidable fighter - she was woefully out of breath. One too many rolanberry pies had been consumed on her last venture it seemed.

"AHHHHHH!" she screamed, as she fell dead sideways.

Her body hit the tiled floor with a worryingly loud thud. The tiles were like brimstone beneath her skin, blinding light searing her eyes.

"'Inconsiderate' was the word I was after. Now I am wont to think 'idiot' may be the better choice."

Looking up with rage burning in her eyes, she saw the architect standing stern towering above her, gloved hand holding the latch of the now open window.

"You're a glib asshole, you know that right?" she muttered, shaking her head, straining painfully as she got herself off the ground.

"You break onto my balcony, into my chambers and you dare call me the glib asshole? Who do you think you are!?" he spat, slamming the long doored window shut with a force that made her concerned for the integrity of the frame itself.

Dusting her hands off on her hips, she looked around awkwardly. "To be fair… you technically just let me into your chambers… so I didn't break in per se…"

Emet-Selch sighed heavily, waving his wrist in disgust, turning his back. He walked towards the large leather chair that sat behind his absurdly cluttered desk. Plans and designs were strewn all over the desk top; stacks of books and papers littering and filling the remaining space.

Sitting down, slightly hunched, he crossed his legs and shut his eyes. Placing his elbows on his knees and leaning forward, he rested his laced fingers against the bridge of his nose.

Azem took a tentative step forward, hands clasped behind her back. ”Look, I know you’re angry with me...”

”I am furious with you,” he replied in a low, cold voice that made her shudder internally. Words so heavily laced with malice and anger... Her gaze fell to the floor, guilt welling in her stomach.

They had had fights in the past. Of course they had. Could you call your companions just that - ‘companions’ - if you didn’t have an argument once in a while. Between her, Hythlodaeus and him, there was no shortage of contrary opinion. There had been terrible arguments before - harsh words spoken and periods where they did not talk to each other for hours, even days on end - but none that felt as sickeningly awful as this one.

She had been wholly jesting herself, thinking she could just come back and pretend what happened hadn’t. She knew deep down that when she returned, she would come back to a situation like this. She knew better than to think that no matter how much time passed, what was said would not be forgotten - could not be forgotten. That wasn’t him. That wasn’t her. That wasn’t… them.

”I suppose we should... speak about it then…” she whispered quietly, eyes still locked on the tile.

The silence was deafening as it enveloped them both. The humid heat of the room hung heavy, making their breaths the only audible sound in the otherwise sordid chamber.

Azem exhaled quietly, willing herself to take the first step.

Slowly, she padded forward to the desk, feet bare against the tile. Clicking her fingers quietly, delicately, a sleek black chair appeared. She sat down, ankles crossed, hands in her lap. Adjusting her mask slightly, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

Her mind churned endlessly through all the possible things she could say, but not a single sentence could come to mind. It all seemed too much and simultaneously, not enough. Remembering the moments leading up to when it all began, she couldn’t help but shudder. She wished for anything to have Hythlodaeus here by her side. He would know what to say.

She sighed softly, eyes peeking upwards.

He was almost statuesque, the way he sat, unmoving. Her eyes ran over his figure, tracing the architect’s frame. If he were thinking anything at all, feeling anything, he did not show a single trace of it. The subtle panic in her chest seeped deeper into her chest.

How do you talk about something that would change… everything.

***

BEFORE

”No! Absolutely not!” Hythlodaeus exclaimed, grinning as he raised the glass to his lips.

”Yes! You absolutely are and you know it!” Azem clamored, reaching for her own. ”You are a hopelessly romantic fool and a devastatingly dazzling whore. Don’t you deny it, for it falls upon deaf ears!”

Hythlodaeus snorted mid sip, his laugh echoing as wine dribbled down his chin. Placing his glass down onto the table, he ran his sleeve over the corner of his mouth. ”Such crass words escape your lips, dearest traveler. You talk mean for someone that has the whole world available to her bed.”

It was her turn to choke on wine, crimson creeping up her neck to her cheeks.

”Oh. Lost for words now, are we? How convenient,” he grinned, a devilish glint in his eye. ”What say you, Emet-Selch? Your dearest advisor. Your most trusted colleague. Me! No less than a common harlot!”

Turning both their heads to look up at the architect, they saw him fastidiously scribbling away at something at his desk. He was lost in thought, full glass untouched beside him.

They spent a lot of nights like this together in his chamber office when she was home in Amaurot, drinking, debating and sharing their company. It had become a sort of tradition. The three had an unspoken bond between them. A dynamic that worked because of the stark differences in their personalities.

Hythlodaeus had spent many a moon over the eons observing them all, figuring out what made each of them truly unique. He knew their strengths and weaknesses like the back of his hand. Their fears and strengths. Although they were friends, he liked to think they were more than that. A bonded family of sorts. Looking at them both, first the architect, then her, his mind started to ruminate.

Azem was brilliant. Dazzling. A light that burned so bright, so ferociously, it radiated to everyone she touched. Fierce and relentless, she was sunshine incarnate. Her symbol, the sun, suiting her to the very core of her being. Her aether blazed spectacularly, begging to be seen - to be felt.

She was so incredibly kind. A selfless humanitarian that would give the garb off her back to a stranger who needed it. She broke creed and order to save what she thought was the most just. Travelling endless yalms to the furthest reaches of the world just to listen to their stories; to hear of their trials and tribulations. To listen to the tales of their lives, their hardships, their struggles. That is what brought her meaning. She cared so deeply and so fiercely, she often lost herself in the tides of futility. For that is what seared her soul deep inside. What she feared so terribly. Futility.

That she should witness such hardship and such meaningless pain and death for it all to mean nothing. To care so much for someone or something, only to have it disappear in an instant. For as immortal as she were, she couldn’t escape the dark, deep feeling that all life is fleeting. It drove her forwards, desperate to do what she can for as many as she could before her time was up.

Much like the architect in some ways, she kept her true heart locked away. For all she cared for the world and its inhabitants, she would not let anyone in to care for her. She had been labelled ‘mother’ and ‘saviour’ alongside ‘Azem’ within the convocation. All labels she wore with pride, knowing the people that bestowed it upon her. But to be called ‘lover’...

To place her non-conforming fears and beliefs and her fate in someone terrified her. To have someone that did not feel as deeply and passionately as her; to have someone that did not understand her duty or the importance of what she does… would be a fate far worse than futility.

Always at odds with one member of the convocation or another, she defended her values with an iron heart but always took the time to listen and to persuade and explain her side. She was hilarious and aloof, but for those that knew her closely, knew she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. Fearlessly independent and incredibly strong, she was the sun that burned bright in the sea of conformity.

If Azem was the umbral, the vaunted architect was her undeniable astral.

Emet-Selch on the opposite end - cool, cold and collected - was the dark to her light. A man of the arts and of technology; the balance between tradition and innovation. Somehow he was flamboyant and theatrical, but also shrouded in an aura that commanded the utmost respect. You could never truly know him - not fully. A man of many words that would only tell you what he wanted to know and not a syllable more.

For those he trusted, he was the most wonderful conversationalist you would ever have the pleasure of meeting. His work was awe-inspiring - his mind unquestionably brilliant beyond belief. His hands drew designs befitting museums, designed buildings that would stand for eons. He could create great, all powerful empires with the snap of his fingers if he so desired. He did not have a penchant for the trivial, craving substance and form. A man of his word at his very core.

The anger and irritation masked a deeper seeded fear within him. The intrinsic, ever present fear of not... mattering. His deeds. His words. His actions. His plans and machinations. He was afflicted with the sickening eternal terror that he would mean nothing to the annals of history in the end.

To have lived through, cared for and done so much... just to fade away into nothingness. To never be remembered. To never have done anything of substance worthy of remembrance. It plagued him so intensely, it made the very fabric of his soul afraid to open his sentimental side up. To let himself feel and truly be seen for all that he was.

He kept that side of him closed off and hidden, as if to make sure no one could ever make him doubt otherwise. He couldn’t fathom the thought of letting someone in so closely, so vehemently, able to trust them fully with his fear and ambition.

It was infuriating to see. If only he would listen to his heart once in a while, maybe the stubborn fool would see that remembrance comes from those close that carry the memories onwards afterwards. Housing such dark, churning aether within him. Thick like clouds before a thunderstorm, a brilliant yet terrifying force to reckon with. It cried out for a kindred intensity so sorely, whether he admitted it to himself or not.

Hythlodaeus’ gaze turned inward to himself.

Then there was him. He was the balance. The middle. The one that completed the trio. Kind and compassionate, always willing to lend an ear to those in need. He liked to listen. To understand and to evaluate. A skilled mediator, he could take both sides of a problem and come up with a compromise that suited all parties involved. Uncannily perceptive, he always knew when something was amiss. He could find the flaws and sore points of most things he came across.

His perspective was unique in this world, having an amazing gift of being able to read aether unlike most others. He did not see it as a form of organic magic, made to be manipulated and purposed. Aether to him was the very fabric of existence and reality itself.

He was endlessly fascinated by its unaltered state, watching it. Reading it. Observing the way it settled and flowed. It allowed him to see things that others couldn’t. He could tell a person's intent without even so much as one word of greeting between them, just by reading the way their aether flowed.

He could see the very undercurrents of reality; places that reside only in the aetheric realm that lay adjacent to their very own physical one. Places like the underworld and the lifestream were as real as the very office he sat in to him. It made him infallibly wise and - much to Emet-Selch’s dismay - incredibly humble.

He was the perfect counterpart to his superior - a dutiful servant and advisor that helped him navigate the bureaucracy that he so sorely hated to deal with. All that to say, if you were to ask Azem to describe him, she would tell you he was a smug, quick-witted deviant that had a penchant for rude men and fondness for wine.

”I will not participate in this mundane conversation,” Emet replied coldly, scratching out something on the paper below him. ”We all know the truth of it. You are a whore,” he said, pointing his finger at Hythlodaeus, ”and you speak of his exploits as if you aren’t woefully sexless and unable to let your desire overcome your duty,” pointing at Azem, before bowing his head back down, scribbling once more.

Azem and Hythlodaeus looked at each other with wide eyes through their masks, mouths agape. A moment of silence rang out, before the pair broke down, collapsing into laughter.

Grabbing the wine bottle, Hythlodaeus filled their glasses once more, smiling as he talked. ”You cannot fault the truth I suppose.”

Azem smiled appreciatively, bringing the glass to her lips and taking a small sip. ”No I don’t suppose we can. Who is your latest paramour anyway? Is he going to grace our presence tonight?”

Hythlodaeus couldn’t contain his grin. ”He will, yes. Any moment now I would guess. As far as the ‘who’, you both are already acquainted with him.”

Azem moved to barrage him with questions, but with divine, cosmic timing, as if there was a writer that willed it so and added this unnecessarily long compound sentence for enhanced dramatic and comedic effect - there was a knock at the door.

”I do not want to hear a single word - from either of you,” he chided, placing his glass down on the table. Looking at Azem first with a serious expression, then Emet-Selch, who looked up from his desk with curiosity. ”I mean it.” He stood up and headed around the corner to the door.

Azem hushed, biting the inside of her lip, grinning with anticipation. She looked over to Emet, who eyed her back curiously sipping on his glass, eyebrow raised. She listened closely, hearing the mutterings of nervous greetings, before the shuffling of feet from around the corner.

”Just around the corner here,” they heard Hythlodaeus say quietly. The two rounded the corner, entering the room.

Her squeal was only rivalled by Emet-Selch choking on his wine. ”Oh my...” she whispered, an incredulous grin on her face. Emet’s usual bored expression was wiped, replaced with a stupefied stare.

”May I introduce to you my beau,” Hythlodaeus proclaimed proudly, reaching out, lacing his fingers into the new arrival’s hand. ”I believe you are both acquainted.”

Azem had to bite her tongue to stop herself from laughing. It took every onze of willpower she had. ”Why yes. Yes, we are.”

Hythlodaeus looked over at Emet with narrowed eyes, as if to warn him to think about his next words very, very carefully..

Emet coughed lightly, swiftly lifting his glass to his lips, downing the rest of his wine in one fell swig. Looking around awkwardly for a few moments, he cleared his throat. ”I suppose we could… make a toast? To the happy couple?”

Hythlodaeus nodded, content with his answer, a smile once again lighting up his face. ”What a wonderfully kind and not at all sarcastic idea, Emet-Selch. We must!”

Emet nodded awkwardly, hesitating for a moment, trying to wrap his brain around the situation. He got up slowly from the desk, walking over to the wine rack beside a bookshelf that was full of plans and scribblings that spanned lifetimes of work. Running a lithe finger over the painstakingly curated bottles, he grasped the neck of a particular Goetican red.

Azem was smiling politely, shifting slightly on the couch to make room for him to sit. The architect sat down, snapping his fingers, the cork in the bottle dissipating into small motes of sparkling aether. Four new glasses appeared in front of them.

He poured each one out expertly, making art out of rounding out the bottle. Handing out the glasses, he took a deep breath. He could always rely on one of them to put him in an aggravatingly strange and peculiar situation.

Looking down at the crimson liquid, he searched his brain for the words to say.

”A toast,” he began earnestly, looking up at the couple across from him. ”To the lovers and to the loved.” Holding his glass poised, regal and elegant, he tipped it forward in acknowledgement.

”To my lover and to those I love,” Hythlodaeus replied, smiling gratefully, motioning first to the man at his side, then Emet and Azem in turn.

Azem’s cheeks were flushed with warmth, sunshine beaming in her chest. She couldn't help but feel humbled with how wonderfully unconventional and extraordinary life could be. Plus, she was a sap for a good love story. ”To love and to being loved,” she swilled, holding her glass out next to Emet’s.

There was a brief pause, all eyes falling to the visitor in their midst. Hythlodaeus nudged him slightly with his elbow, whispering. ”Go ahead, darling.”.

The arrival held out his glass pin straight, like an apprehensive salute. Turning his head to face Hythlodaeus, he blinked ominously. ”Your... aether is dancing.”

A few blank moments passed, before Azem couldn’t keep it in any longer. She burst out into musical laughter, hand clutching at the pendant around her chest. Hythlodaeus followed, squeezing his beau’s hand tight, breaking into a sonorous chuckle. Even Emet-Selch snorted lightly, his expression forming into a grin.

”You are a treasure, Lahabrea. Never change!” Azem exclaimed, her fingers wrapping around the chain that held her stone. Without consciously realizing, Emet's eyes drifted to her hand, admiring the silver chain’s dull glint against her skin.

”Now you MUST tell me how this came to be. Spare absolutely no detail. I want to hear everything! My endless blessings for the two of you. To love!” she declared, raising her glass to her lips.

A few bells later

”I swear to you!” she giggled out, leaning back against the couch she shared with the architect, sinking slightly into the cushions.

The room was warm and relaxed. A dim, drunken haziness settled over them as they talked into the late hours.

”But then how do they… where do they… by Zodiark, what a sight that must be!” Hythlodaeus stuttered, eyes wide with wonder behind his mask. Head leaned comfortably against Lahabrea’s shoulder, legs up on the arms of his couch..

Azem beamed, the warm and hazy feeling in her body swirling peacefully. ”Well I didn’t stick around to watch. My intimate interests do not extend to leporine mating seasons, but I daresay the next time I visit there will be a litter of little kits running and hopping around. I absolutely cannot wait to visit again!”

”How do they know who is their mate?” Emet asked softly. His legs were crossed, one arm resting on them, the other leaning against the arm of their couch, glass in hand.

”The true mates have similar organic aether compositions. Like many of us, they are drawn to each other's biological makeup; in their case, drawn to each other via smell.” she answered, touching the tip of her finger to her nose. Emet’s eyes were drawn to the movement, feeling his index finger twitch against his thigh. He moved his hand off it, resting it firmly on the cushion beside him.

”It is reassuring to know that no matter where you are in the expanse of our world, our basest instincts never change,” Hythlodaeus remarked, grinning. ”Just like waves to the shore, bumble beetle to a flower petal - like me to gorgeous, well-endowed men. Our very aetheric souls yearn for their counter aspect. To be balanced. To be whole. ”

Azem chuckled, lips smiling. Emet-Selch shifted uncomfortably.

”As astral to umbral, ” Lahabrea said very suddenly, low and introspective, head turning up to the ceiling. ”Endless, everpresent duality.”

Everyone’s eyes snapped up to the speaker, wide behind their masks.

Hythlodaeus rose off of his shoulder, staring incredulously. ”Beautiful, wonderful man,” he whispered, lips forming an uncontrollable grin. That had been a… a sentence. An actual sentence. What had been in that wine?

”Your aether dances again,” Lahabrea whispered, head turning to his beau. Reaching a hand out, his fingertips brushed the cool fabric of his robe, caressing a gentle line across his chest.

Emet-Selch watched intensely, recoiling slightly as he was struck by an ache of deep, soul crushing sorrowful need in his chest. He couldn’t tear his eyes away.

Azem felt a wash of warmth climb her neck. Unconsciously, she found herself shifting just an ilm inwards. Her hand slowly reached out, brushing the fingertips that laid on the cushion beside her ever so softly.

His body went rigid. Warmth. Liquid levin spilling through his hand, coursing up his arm. It ran through his torso, pooling deep within his chest. A shaky breath choked in his throat, a soft, inaudible gasp from his lips.

Such gentle touch.

His mind raced. The need to withdraw his hand in horror was rivalled only by the need to reach out and grasp desperately in fear; terrified that he would never feel it again.

”Oh it dances wildly, most assuredly. I think the time has come for us to take leave,” Hythlodaeus said, grinning wickedly, eyes glassy behind the mask.

Lahabrea nodded, placing his glass down on the table. He stood up, hands dead straight beside himself, standing stern.

”The foundation of my home is sound,” he announced.

Azem laughed, her eyes sparkling with knowing. ”Let us hope the same can be said for Hythlodaeus’ bed frame. Goodnight you two. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

”Oh we will be doing precisely that,” Hythlodaeus replied, grabbing Lahabrea’s hand, pecking a kiss to his cheek. ”Goodnight my beloved friends. We’ll see you on the morrow.”

Azem waved as they left, finishing the wine in her glass as she listened to the fading shuffling sounds in the hallway.

Warm silence befell the room, the gentle hum of wine buzzing in her body. She smiled, placing her glass down onto the table below her.

”Zodiark have mercy on our poor speaker,” she chuckled, bringing her legs up beside her on the couch, turning her body to face Emet-Selch. ”If he survives the night of ravaging and rutting ahead, there may be hope yet. Goodness… Lahabrea and Hythlodaeus. Who would have guessed?”

Emet was unresponsive, hands clenched into fists, gaze a million yalms away.

What was the point?

What was the point of anything if you had no one to share it with. Does anything truly matter? Will anything truly be remembered by anyone, if not by those who lived through it with you.

Lahabrea was the most brilliant mind amongst them. His creation magicks knew no bounds. He could conceptualize things that most couldn’t deign to ever in lifetimes come up with. He had all of creation at his fingertips, but instead would rather brush them upon another. To entrust himself and all that he withheld inside to someone else. Horrifying. Terrifying. Overwhelmingly abyssal.

What was the point?

”Emet-Selch?” she asked apprehensively.

There was no response.

She sidled up to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder. ”Emet?”

His body tensed up immediately, head snapping to her. Lips pursed with terror, eyes wide and deranged behind his mask, he stared at her with an intensity that made her recoil.

Her touch... he needed...

She pulled her hand away, clutching the pendant that hung on her chest, worry and fear plastered on her face. ”Did I… Did I harm you?”

The intensity immediately switched to apprehension, his terrified stare switching to one of remorse.

No no no no come back. That was the point. That was the whole point. It was nothing but the point. It’s a triangle at this… point.

”I’m… I- I apologize,” he stammered, getting up suddenly. He looked around fervently for something - anything - to calm himself. Grabbing the half empty bottle of wine off the table, he walked over to his desk, throwing his chair back off kilter. He sat down drearily, sighing.

He brought the bottle to his lips, drinking deep as his mind raced. Why was he like this? He was assured. Steadfast. He had built cities and innovated eons with his mere fingertips. He was brilliant and cunning, reasonable and just. Why was he brought to his knees with the simplest well-meaning touch of another.

No. He could shake hands and offer assistance with others. Why was he like this with a touch from her. What kind of man falls apart at the touch of a woman when there is so much more in life than the whims of the heart? It was maddening. Infuriating.

Putting the bottle down haphazardly on the desk, he placed his elbows on the arm rests, head falling into his hands.

Azem got up slowly, carefully treading to the desk. She sidled around the corner, kneeling on the ground beside him.”What are you apologizing for? What is going on in that brilliant mind of yours? Talk to me.”

He could feel the inferno of aether churning dangerously inside of him. Half of him wanted to snap and scream at her to leave and let him chew and ruminate on his thoughts. The other wanted to beg her to hold him tight in her hands so he could shut that side of his head up once and for all.

”It’s naught of import. Don’t concern yourself with it,” he muffled into his palms, rubbing his temples with the tips of his thumbs.

Azem touched a gentle hand to his thigh. ”Concern me with it.”

His breath hitched, muscles clenching as warmth shot up his leg. His heartbeat thumped in his ears, palms hot against his face. More. MORE.

She placed her other palm on the opposite thigh, weight resting on her knees. ”Look at me.”

Levin pooled in his chest, aether churning thunderously in the pit of his stomach. His mind screamed at him. You like this. You want this. You want her. You crave this. You crave her. MORE.

”I can’t...” he whispered, breath hitting his hands hot and desperate. He was drunk and conflicted and his infernal mind would not quit it’s incessant prattling. He was being touched and consumed by every emotion all at once and he couldn’t do this. He had been fine without having to deal with this part of him for so, so very long. Why now? He couldn’t do this. Not right now. Not like this.

Her voice changed to a low command, eyes narrowing, hands grasping his thighs tight. ”Emet-Selch, LOOK at me!”

Azem’s confused frustration dissipated immediately as she saw the face that hid behind his dropped hands. Skin sheening, lips pursed into worry, eyes full of unease.

He looked as if he was in the type of pain that made you fall to your knees, begging someone - something - to just make it all go away. To take you somewhere so far from where you’re at, not to return any time soon.

”Oh my sweet, dear friend…” she said softly, staring into his forlorn eyes. ”The wine has taken you to the place you wish you weren’t, hasn’t it? Let me help you. I don’t know what’s causing you such pain, but I will help you bear it. Just say the words.”

Emet’s bottom lip trembled just the slightest touch. The heat from her palms blazing on his thighs, the heat from the drink burning his throat… It was too much. The blaze in his stomach burned violently.

”I-I…” he stuttered, his tongue not able to form the words.

”Come here,” she whispered, getting to her feet.

Emet’s nerves screamed at the loss of contact, every fiber of his being calling out for her touch.

She held out her hands, reaching for his. ”Come. Stand up for me. We need to get you to bed. You’ve had too much to drink and not enough rest.”

His eyes fell to her hands. Such beautiful, delicate hands. Such a strong, gentle soul. He stood up warily, keeping his hands at his side.

She clicked her fingers elegantly, the room blinking in a flash of aether. Bookshelves and couches dissipated in motes of aether, replaced with the tasteful art and the lavish crimson décor of his bedchamber.

Nodding with a small smile and walking over to the giant door windows, she drew the plush curtains closed. Padding to the regally adorned bed, posts carved intricately with a similarly divine crimson duvet, she pulled the covers back, tapping the silken sheets.

Emet exhaled tentatively before taking his first steps forward. His desk and chair disappeared in specks of bright blue aether behind him, blinking wonderfully out of existence as he walked.

He stopped a few ilms from her, eyes staring down at the bed. You don’t want to lay down alone. He ran a hand through his gorgeous silver hair, shimmering in the low light of the wrought iron chandelier above. You don’t want to lay down alone. You want to lay down with her. Fists forming out of his shaking hands, he turned to Azem. You don’t want to lay down alone. You want to lay down with her. You want to touch her.

”Would you… Will you…” he trailed, eyes looking to the floor. What was he doing? What was he asking? Why?

”I’ll stay with you as long as you need, don’t worry. I’m here,” she whispered, smiling through sparkling eyes.

He nodded, turning and climbing into the bed. He let the soft, pillowy down envelop him as he laid out straight, pulling the duvet up to his chest. Azem clicked her fingers once again, robe fluttering away in a flash, replaced with a long, silken gown. Her hair flowed down, settling softly along her back.

She took his breath away for the briefest instant, standing there in silk like the empress of an empire. His eyes darted over every ilm of hers, mind blissfully blank in the moment. It was not the first time he had seen her like this - she had stayed many nights throughout the eons after nights like this - dressed in that very same robe - but something was... different.

Adjusting her mask slightly, she ran a few fingers through her hair, combing it out. That should be our hands in her hair. Flipping her hair over her shoulder, she walked around the edge of the bed, climbing in and settling on the sheets opposite him. Sitting cross legged, she reached a hand over the nape of her neck, rubbing small circles with closed eyes. That should be our hands. OUR HANDS.

”Cease this infernal ideation,” he muttered, squeezing his eyes shut. Mayhap if he didn’t look at her, his wine-addled brain would desist from this madness.

Another click of her fingers, the lights extinguished. Feeling the darkness plunge over his eyelids, he unclenched his fists and exhaled shakily. He listened for the telltale sounds as she shuffled down under the covers, placing her mask gently on the side table.

It was an unspoken practice between them when they stayed the night on occasions such as this, Hythlodaeus included. They removed their masks if they slept, but did not look at the others until it was returned the next day. This was sacrosanct between the three of them.
Trusting in the others to uphold this most intimate act of exposure was sacred. Especially so to the architect.

He followed suit, taking off his mask and sliding it onto the table on his side. The cool air of his chamber washed over the newly exposed skin, making him breathe deep.

He flicked his wrist, fingers flaring pointedly.

Echoes of far thunder boomed in the corners of the room, the pattering of rain on window glass filling the space around them.

”I usually detest the rain,” she said quietly, her voice no more than a muted murmur. ”But sometimes when I have been away for far too long, it reminds me of you.”

His eyes flashed open. Heat flooded his chest.

She turned on her side, hand supporting her head. ”Do you have recollections like that?”

The aether churned within his stomach like the thunder that echoed in the extremes of the room. ”The two days of endless sunshine, in the Sommartide,” he replied, calm and quiet.

”What does it remind you of?” she asked curiously.

”It’s ‘who’ it reminds me of,” he answered. ”You.”

There was a brief moment of silence, before she breathlessly spoke. ”The sunshine reminds you of me?”

He didn’t reply. He shut his eyes, wishing he hadn’t answered. The wine was making him say things he didn’t want said. Dread rose in his chest.

”Emet…” she said softly, his name ringing out in the dark. ”Are you… are you okay?” He remained silent, hands gripping his pillow tightly. ”You do not seem yourself. You seem… plagued with something. What aren’t you telling me?”

She reached her hand out, brushing it over his shoulder, resting it on his bicep.

Dread exploded, turning into searing levin. One half wanting, the other wanting nothing less, his body froze.

”Emet-Selch, what are you not telling me?”

More. No. Please, less. Please more. No, no no. Less. NO. More.MORE.

The gentle resting of her hand turned into a vice-like grip. She crossed the fulms between them with the speed of a hummingfly, throwing her leg over him, straddling and restraining him with the strength of an auroch. Arms pinned at his side, her weight bared down upon him, he stared up into the pitch black, desperately searching for her face.

Exhilaration and horror. Heat and terror. Want and need. Every fiber of his being was reveling and revolting, his aether a raging typhoon deep within in his soul.

”Answer me,” she growled, frustration teeming at the edge of her words. ”I am tired of you avoiding my questions. Aught is amiss. Tell me what it is.”

His heartbeat roared deafeningly in his ears, pulse threatening to break his skin.

”I can’t,” he whispered gravely, eyes still fervently scanning.

The pressure on top of him increased, her thighs clenching tighter either side of his. Her response came through gritted teeth, the seething frustration growing ever evident. The circling tides of spun gold in her soul crashed against the cavity of her chest. ”Why? Tell me! Why can’t you!?”

”I can’t... I can’t say... the...,” he hissed, feeling the hopelessness creep up his throat. The storm in his stomach flared, threatening to rupture violently.

”Fine,” she said coldly in the darkness, swinging off of him, a soft thud as her feet hit the tiled floor below. ”You do not want to speak so I will not ask again.”

NO. COME BACK. PLEASE. TOUCH ME AGAIN.

Azem snapped her fingers and a flash of bright, brilliant aether lit the room for a split second before the dark quit and the dim light returned. She stood there, masked and robed in her Amaurotine garb, lips curved in an uneasy frown. Her eyes were closed tight, upholding their pact. ”Goodnight, Emet-Selch. Get some rest. The wine will fade and we will speak tomorrow.”

NO. COME BACK. PLEASE. TOUCH ME AGAIN… I need it… I need to...

Please...

She turned, hem of her robe fluttering with the movement. Striding towards the door, head high, she clutched her pendant as she reached out for the handle.

Panic rose in his throat. Desperate consternation consumed him. He had to do something. Anything. Quickly. A quick snap of the fingers, a flash of light, a whoosh of air and he was there, between her and the door.

”I.. I.. Emet? What are y-” she began, before she was cut off by her chest being crushed with the weight of his torso.

He wrapped his arms tight around her chest, holding her so tensely against himself that he was afraid he’d fall apart if he dared to let go.

Azem was full of shock, one arm still on the door handle, the other raised in surprise. He was… touching her. Emet-Selch didn’t touch. Emet-Selch certainly didn’t embrace.

Her eyes snapped down, hoping to search maniacally for some semblance of explanation . What she found instead surprised her even more. ”Emet… your… your mask…”

He hadn’t donned it in his split second decision. She stared indulgently, in awe at seeing his face - his whole face - for the first time ever. It felt so taboo. So… intimate. Greedily ogling, she drank deep into his expression. His whole expression. She saw fear and fire. Warmth and desperation. Vulnerability. Unease and… relief.

”Precious, beloved soul,” she whispered, eyes widening as it clicked. Everything was finally starting to make sense.

Azem wrapped her arms around him, gently nestling his head to the crook of her neck. She squeezed him as tight as she dared, knowing that she could probably crack a rib or three if she was a bit too overzealous.

She could feel her aether hum inside her chest, rapid gold spun swirls dancing like dust in the sunlight. It sang to her, swilling in joy. Her nerves hummed from her fingertips to her toes.

Leaning forward, she did something she never thought in her wildest dreams she would do. Resting her cheek gently on his head, she breathed deep, nose nestled in his gorgeous silver hair.

’Curse your gift, Hythlodaeus…” her mind whispered, closing her eyes.

***

”I absolutely cannot stand one more minute of his drivel! Not one more! We live nigh eternity and yet it is still a waste of my time!” Azem shouted, throwing herself down onto the chair.

Hythlodaeus chuckled as he filed away the documents he held into their respective shelves. When Azem stormed into his office without warning, huffing about something or another, it was bound to be an interesting story.

”What did our vaunted architect say this time?” he asked, turning to grab a second stack.

”I came to plead my case,” she started, grabbing onto the edge of his desk. ”Hythlodaeus, we cannot take the stance of pacifism. Not anymore. If we can do something, then should we not? It is our duty. We are caretakers, aren’t we? Surely we cannot sit by and let the inhabitants of this world, our world, perish and suffer just because we do not want to take sides politically. What is political about natural disaster? I hope you have some wisdom to impart to me in these matters because I am so sorely in need of a reason to not just cast the convocation, this title and this city behind.”

The anger and frustration in her voice saddened his heart. Ever the mother. The kind, caring humanitarian. Such a stark, non-conforming soul in a world of bureaucratic order. He couldn’t help but try to give her a reassuring smile. ”Don’t be so hasty with your convictions my darling. Let’s talk it through. What was Emet-Selch’s response?”

”What do you think!?” she almost-shouted, annoyance radiating in her reply. ”Scolding indifference.”

Hythlodaeus put a hand to his chin, pondering. ”I can assure you he is not indifferent to your cause. I caught him and Elidibus in a rather heated debate not two moons ago where he pleaded action for your cause to the Convocation. It came to naught, for Elidibus had the final say. But he did try.”

”What!?” she gasped, hand coming up to her pendant.

”Is that such a surprise to you?” he asked, sliding a drawer closed.

”I… well… yes, to speak honestly with you,” Azem replied, the pendant turning in her fingers.

”Why does that surprise you?” Hythlodaeus asked, turning to face her, file in hand.”It’s not the first time he has done so either. I have spent many a night preparing plans at his behest in defense of one of your schemes.”

”Tell me that’s not true, Hythlodaeus. I have never once heard a word of this from him, nor anyone about this!” she retorted, eyes wide with shock, lips pursed worriedly.

”Because he bade us not to,” he replied, expression turning to one of knowing. ”I know it seems redundant in nature, for you and I are the best of companions. But neither I, nor our brothers and sisters are itching to incur the wrath that is Emet-Selch scorned. Forgive me, for you of all people should understand.”

She looked incredulously at him for a moment, before her features turned to confusion.

”Why, then?” she asked. ”Why does he fight for me behind closed doors, swear everyone to secrecy and act indifferent to my face. What is the purpose? Are we not all sworn, trusted companions to one another? Why treat me this way?”

Hythlodaeus couldn’t help but chuckle, placing the next stack of documents down onto his desk. ”Your own light blinds you, darling. Mayhap if you let the storm clouds in once in a while, you would see clearer. They will shield you, just as you will placate them. A balance which they both so sorely need. This is my gift to you. My words of wisdom.”

Azem stared at him, puzzled expression hilariously prevalent. ”I came here asking for wisdom and empathy and you give me a riddle?”

”Who’s to say that the riddle is not both?” he chided, smiling knowingly. This was one matter which he could not tell her what to do. Where to go. Whom to talk to. The sun spun traveler would just have to figure it out herself. ”Now, hold onto the edge of that seat. I have got some Rolanberry tea for you that is hot and steeped in scandal.”

***
They stayed quietly embraced, still and calm, the sound of their breathing mixing with the distant rain in their ears. She breathed in the scent of his hair, lips forming the smallest of smiles.

She stroked his back gently with her thumb, moving in small circles, testing the touch carefully. Emet didn’t respond, his body still and quiet against hers. She moved her palm to follow the circles up and down. The quietest of gasps elicited from the architect’s lips.

It sent shivers down her flesh, warmth pooling in her chest. She squeezed him closer, his scent enveloping her. The aether in her stomach churned rapidly, dancing in an endless swirl.

Suddenly, something inside her chest panged. The thought came to her mind and she couldn’t let it go. Her heart and her brain screamed out for her to say it. She felt this overwhelming need to-

”Hades,” she whispered, the name barely escaping her lips.

His muscles tensed up underneath her, breath hitching in his now rigid chest. She froze, hand lifting off his back. Panic pulsed in her veins.

He snapped his head up, staring at her with wide eyes, lips ajar. Had she just… the most intimate of gestures one could give a person. A... partner. She-

Azem let him go, stepping backwards, breaking the embrace. The aether in her stomach blazed angrily as she released him. She stared back, eyes fraught with fear and apology. ”I’m so sorry. Oh my- I- I’m so s-sorry. I can’t believe I ju-...I have to go. I’m sorry, Emet-Selch.” She looked around fearfully for a second, before snapping her fingers. A bright flash of light appeared, before the room plunged back into darkness.

Emet closed his eyes, fists curling up into balls. The silence deafened him.

She was gone.

Standing silently in the dark, he bit back the sob that had risen in his throat.

He walked slowly over to the bed, his feet almost dragging with weariness, slumping down onto the sheets. Climbing under the duvet, he pulled it up and over his face, willing the void to come and swallow him whole.

A quick, loud SNAP and the room was deafened by the roar of the rain, thunder booming in his ears, a cataclysm in his stomach.

***

The Present

”I suppose we should... speak about it then…” she whispered quietly, eyes still locked on the tile.

”Then speak,” Emet-Selch replied sternly, unmoving and unflinching.

She took a deep breath, her lungs full of apprehension. Her aether swirled perilously as she grasped the pendant on her chest.

”I…” she began, fingers flexed around the stone.

What would she say? What could she say? She had been gone for entire moons, every single day spent trying to figure out what she would say when she finally returned. It was one long trip where the days blended into each other, her thoughts a never ending spiral. Her aether burned inside, her heart aching for something she wouldn’t allow herself to feel. She spent the days working tirelessly, the nights alone, plagued with her thoughts.

She had thought of a million and one different explanations for the situation, knowing that she would have to answer for herself. Ranging from feigning illness to the excuse of needing to meet some urgently - it was all fabrication. She knew the real reason deep within her aetheric soul, right on the tip of her tongue.

”I’m sorry,” she breathed, looking up at the still architect.

His expression turned sullen, the lines of his lips turned down into indignant annoyance. His hands clashed down to the desk, the thud ringing out into the corners of the room. ”I don’t want your apologies. I want an explanation.”

Her hair stuck uncomfortably to her back, beads of sweat running down her neck. She cursed herself for changing into her bathing suit and nothing more. She felt incredibly sweaty and exposed, sitting there in nothing more than her mask and the thin fabric.

”You pin me down. You ask me for answers. You hold me. You see me unmasked and whisper my…” he choked, breathing shakily with anger, ”...my name. You had me vulnerable. You had me weak and exposed. I thought… I thought you...And then you left. Gone. No word. No trace. Not even as much as a farewell.”

Azem’s lip trembled, her hand wrapped around her pendant with guilt.

”I bore myself to you. I let you… I…” he spat, hands coming to his head, pulling his hair with frustration. ”And you just left. You leave for who knows how many moons, not a single word and then… and then you have the gall to come back, acting like everything is congenial. You have the audacity to dress like THAT in front of me!” he gestured, a hand leaving momentarily to wave at her flippantly. ”In front of everyone! You dare grin at me. You follow me. You break onto my balcony and into my chambers. The nerve you have, Azem. You are wont to do nothing but provoke and enrage me. I don’t know what practical joke you and our leech of a colleague Hythlodaeus are playing, for I am most certainly not laughing.”

A choked sob left Azem’s throat. She felt her whole chest lurch sickeningly as she fell forward to her feet, hand reaching out. ”No Emet. No that’s not… that’s not-”

”WHAT THEN!?” he roared, standing in a flash, palms flat against the desk. His chest heaved, venom laced with unbelievable hurt on his face. ”What POSSIBLE explanation do you have!?”

No no no no this was all wrong. This wasn’t right. She knew what she wanted. She knew she had to say it. She had felt it. She had felt it every single second of every single moment since she left him that night.

Azem lurched forward, words caught in her throat. Her aether billowed, raging in a violent swirl in her chest. Her lungs ached, begging for her to take a breath. A sharp pang in her stomach urged her onward, fingers snapping together all in an instant.

She disappeared from her spot and within a second, materialized between his arms. Her fingers reached up to her temples and ripped off her mask, flinging it carelessly down to the desk behind. She did the same to his, throwing it to the same fate all in the same breath.

She pressed her hands either side of his cheeks, staring gravely into his silver eyes. Thrusting her lips upon his with the intensity of the raging sun fighting its way through a ferocious storm, she held him tight against her, hips leaning in desperately to press against him.

”Hades…” she whispered, pulling back for just a moment, eyes closed while she caught a sorely needed breath. Her aether blazed as the name left her lips.

”I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry…” She pressed her lips to his cheek, moving her arms down, wrapping them around his back, pressing him impossibly tight against her.

He was rigid underneath her, heart pounding in his chest. She could feel it against hers, matching its intensity. She let her mind race, waiting achingly for a response. Something. Anything. A sign that he… that he understood.

Sordid, painfully long seconds passed, the heat from his cheek radiating on her lips. Her aether was sparking, snaking to her throat, choking her with panic. ’Please….” her mind echoed, pulse in her ears. ’Say something’.

She gasped against his cheek, flinching as she felt strong, deft hands against her back. They grasped her sides, fingers digging into her ribs. Her eyes snapped open, head tilting upwards. Pomanders wide with intense shock stared back at her. Lips ajar, he stared wordlessly, still beneath her.

”Hades,” she whispered, the breath barely ghosting against his cheek. Her aether burned.

He swallowed anxiously, grip tightening around her. His breath shallowed, a clump of his damp, sweat-addled silver hair falling in front of his face. Without thinking, she raised a hand, brushing it to the side behind his ear. Her fingertips traced the curve, dancing delicately down it.

Lingering just for a moment longer, she went to pull away, before she felt his hand leave her ribs, grasping her wrist, fingers pressed into the skin.

”Say it again,” he said suddenly, voice low and graveled. His eyes were dilated, pleading for her. ”I- I… Please. Say it again.”

She let her wrist go limp underneath the hand that gripped it so strongly. Her lips merely a whisper away from his, she spoke.

”Hades.”

The raging clouds in his chest broke with a deafening boom, the storm within him spilling forth with the downpour of an infernal typhoon. He thrust forward vigorously, her back hitting the edge of the desk with a muted thud. He dove his lips to hers with the force of his weight behind him. He grasped the sides of her neck and ground his hips into her, pushing her backwards so that she was coerced to sit on the edge.

Azem broke the kiss, eyes wide with surprise. The heat in the pool of her stomach swirled with need and budding lust, her aether swarming every fiber and nerve of her being.

Like it were the purest, basest instinct, her hands shot up to his chest, palms flat against the solid muscle.

”My.. I.. My aether it… when I touch you it feels…” she stuttered, hands pressed into his pectorals.

It all made sense. The riddle. The need to name him. The natural gravitation she had always felt towards him for all of these millennia. ”We’re soulbound aren’t we?”

She had said it. Said the words she fought so hard to contain. She breathed heavy, chest heaving with surrender and apprehension. She couldn’t deny it any longer. It was so obvious to her now. Feeling him underneath her felt like she was complete in the very most basis of the word. The astral to the umbral. The completest of elemental alignment.

Hades pressed his forehead to hers, damp skin soft against his. He swallowed dryly, before pressing his lips to the tip of her nose. He knew it too. He felt it in the very core of his being. In a sea of soot black, she were vivid crimson; his very aetheric soul calling out to her as hers did to him. He was a smarter man than to try and say it wasn’t as real and solid as the very foundations they stood upon. The one aspect he couldn’t plan. It was infernally cosmic.

Azem’s hands ran over his robed chest, smoothing down over his stomach, bracing his sides. Hades shuddered silently under her hands.

Her touch seared his skin in the most achingly divine way. It terrified him. It exhilarated him. His aether churned and raged, every nerve crying out for her to do what he let no one else do.

”You feel it in my touch, don’t you?” she whispered, breath hot against his chin. She closed her eyes, breathing deep. Thin wisps of spun gold pooled in her palms. It snaked and swirled underneath her hands, dancing in circles on his waist.

Hades gasped, the quietest sound eliciting from his lips pressed against her nose. Heat. So much heat. It sent waves of bumps across his flesh, his lower back tensing.

Azem smoothed her hands over his waist, pressing them side by side onto his firm, taught stomach. The aether pools followed her hands as shivers erupted, a blazing trail scorched along his skin.

”I feel it in mine,” she hushed, dragging her hands upwards. Gold swirls fluttered, snaking and shifting. She pressed her lips to his chin, the smallest ghost of a kiss.

The typhoon of aether in his stomach brooded, raging violently in a storm. He could feel his lungs calling out for breath, to breathe all of her in. The pulsing of his nerves intensified, as the tendrils of her touch consumed him.

Lifting her right hand, she cupped her palm, forcefully pressing it down over his heart. His eyes shot open, mouth wide in silent ecstasy. His spine arched, chest seizing up. Heart pounding deafeningly in his ears, his frame trembled violently.

The heat spread through his chest, trickling up his neck, radiating into his spine. It shot down through his navel, careening out over his hips, dipping down and enveloping his thighs. The aether spread like a vivid blaze, covering his skin, washing him completely with her touch.

More.

It was painfully exquisite. It called out to his very core, his aether spreading and churning to match, spilling into every notch and crevice of his being. She crooked her head, lips dragging down his jaw, a smoldering trail left behind them.

Take MORE.

A sharp hiss left his lips as she nipped at the nape of his neck, teeth dragging down his skin. The edges of his sight blurred, the swarming tendrils heating and soothing his nerves, placating him into pleasure.

Her left hand dragged downwards, tracing the muscles of his stomach, a lithe index fingertip drawing circles down over his navel, settling just below. His aether revolted, surging to his abdomen. His breath grew increasingly short, his pulse roaring.

She leaned into the hale, heated hands on her back, cradling his forearm in the crook of her neck. She turned her gaze upwards, feeling the air cool the spot where his forehead had been resting.

”You are mine,” Hades whispered lustfully, eyes gleaming, staring intensely at her unmasked face. He shuddered, rolling them back as her aether sneaked below his navel, his robe becoming increasingly far too tight.

Left hand quickly swooping from her neck to around her back, pulling her off the desk, flush to his body, he snapped the fingers on his right. A flash of bright, brilliant light and the room transformed, his regular desk and office replaced with the interior of his sleeping chambers.

Azem flexed her index finger, biting the inside of her lip and drew it downwards just the tiniest half ilm. A mixture of groan and growl escaped from Hades’ throat. He snapped his fingers one last time and in a half second, he was laid underneath her, skin blazing against his chest, sheets a cool mercy against his back.

Bared entirely, naked as their nameday, his nerves screamed at the feeling of her silken skin pressed so incredibly close. He could feel her everywhere; her aether and her heat enveloping him, desperately begging to be touched.

His hands grasped her hips greedily, the aether from her fingertip still trailing downward ever so slowly. Her lips, so close to his, smiled sinfully. She nipped at his bottom lip, her breath hot against him. He shivered as her finger stopped, just before his length..

Hades kissed her hungrily, silver aether pooling in his palms, writhing and snaking around his fingers.

Blind with need, he brought a hand up to her neck, tracing a line up the nape, dragging a stray section of hair behind her ear. The silvery tendrils covered the crook of her neck; cool, icy lines drawn onto her skin. She shuddered deliciously on top of him at the touch, her thighs either side of his grasping him tightly.

Levin shot to his length, feeling the inane hardness flex against the soft, heated skin of her inner thigh. Running his fingers through her hair, wrapping it around his fingertips, he grasped tightly, pulling it backwards. Her neck bared, he selfishly dragged his tongue in a line up the front, kissing her in the space where it met her jaw. His lips trailed up, easing her head down just an ilm.

His whisper roared in her ear, deep and abyssal, words striking her to her very core. ”You have taken my name. Now take my body.”

Azem drew a sharp breath, the words sending levin straight into her spine. She felt her walls clench achingly, aether pooling back into her palm, swirling in a tidepool upon the skin.

The pull of her hair was the most wonderful pain, simultaneously stinging and sending shivers into her skull. She cradled her neck down, shuddering as his aether swarmed around her. Pressing her lips to his cheekbone, she answered with a voice that echoed the intensity of the gilded abyss within her.

”You are mine. Body, name and soul.”

Hades gasped into her ear, the tendrils of his aether flaring around her neck. Smiling wickedly, she leaned up on her knees, palm leaving his stomach.

Azem, with a quick snap of her fingers, had herself on hands and knees between his legs. Hades thighs spread sinfully wide for her, as she thrust her hand around his aching length, the pool of aether in her palm igniting. Back arching violently off the sheets, his hips rolled upwards, cock thrusting frantically into her fist. A beam of pure ecstasy shot up from his groin into his stomach, his fingers desperately grasping for something to hold on to.

His cry was earth shattering.

The lust within her reared its abyssal head, watching the gorgeous body beneath her writhe with her touch. Needing to see more, to make him feel more, she arched her body down celestially.

Littering desperate kisses at his thigh, her hand stroked him with ardent fervor, fingers deftly working themselves around the head. Her other palm slid up the opposing thigh, his smooth, muscular skin damp beneath her touch. She ran it over his hips, up his torso, venerating the muscle that lay there under her fingertips. Her aether blazed trails wherever her fingertips went, each one shooting straight to the architect’s length.

A coarse, pent up moan escaped his lips as her hungry kisses surged upward. She felt the heat on her cheek as his leaking tip brushed against it. She turned her head, pressing a hot, saturated kiss against the head of his aching cock. Groping and twisting his shaft, her tongue slid up in a long, wet stroke up his length, lips pursing gorgeously at the tip. She took a deep breath, lips parting.

Searing, white light consumed him as a brutal howl ruptured from his throat. His hips bucked up, fingers grasping at the sheet violently as he felt the back of her throat strain against his head, swallowing his cock ruthlessly.

Sweat dripped down the nape of his neck as he writhed, head falling back against the pillow, mouth ajar. Shallow, wet pants and groans sounded from his throat as she worked him, her tongue swirling like the aether on his skin.

There had been others that had attempted to pleasure him. The countless lips that had adorned his cock, desperately seeking his favour - his attention and affection. He watched with disinterest as they tried their best to please him. As they fucked him. As they rode him. Blew him. Swallowing his seed hungrily, looking up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. It disgusted him in a small way, watching them pour emotion into such a bland display of base pleasure. He never thought that he would experience the type of sex, the intimate relation that made the plots for songs and operas. It just didn’t seem like it was real. There was no one that made him feel that way.

Until now.

There was no one that made him feel that way like she did.

No one had made him feel this feral - as deeply entrenched in bone shattering pleasure - as her.

He crooned his neck, desperately trying to watch as the base of his cock slid between her lips. The view was deplorably sinful; watching her struggle with lust, eyes closed, nose struggling to gasp for air as her cheeks hollowed. He could feel her tongue - the infernal hells swallow him whole her tongue - swirling and lapping at the frayed nerves of his swollen tip.

Propping himself up on one arm, he frantically reached out with the other, searching for her skin. He had to touch. He had to taste. He had to have every last nerve and breath of her.

He pooled his aether in his palm, hastily grasping the wrist that was on his chest. He dragged his palm up her hot, damp skin, his aether smearing behind it; a shining silver plaster that enveloped her pores, icy hot shivers sending her nerves alight.

He ran it to her shoulders, up and across to her neck, nails digging into her strained, stuffed throat. He deplorably traced the line of his cock that protruded from her throat, down one side, swiping across the hollow of her neck, and up the other, shuddering with lust at the debauched act. His thumb stroked up to her jaw, an invisible silver smear lingering behind before evaporating.

The aether in his core churned relentlessly, his eyes rolling back as her throat constricted his cock with her gasp. His thumb slipped up to her top lip, tracing with his touch. Her lips tightened around his base, making him flex his length instinctively.

Her nostrils flared slightly, gasping around her mouthful as her nails dug viciously into the muscles of his stomach, dragging downwards.

He felt her aether swirl against the raw scratches, sanguine stinging felt all the way up in the nerves of his neck.

His thumb dragged over her bottom lip, pressing against it, willing her to open just the littlest bit wider. His eyes glowered with lust as he watched her desperately try to accommodate, eyes fluttering under her closed lids, jaw straining.

”You are wholly divine,” he whispered down at her, using his free fingers to brush a loose clump of hair behind her ear lovingly. The tip of her tongue washed over the underside of his shaft, brushing against the tip of his thumb. Hades shivered, head tipping back slightly, mouth open with silent bliss. He gathered his aether in his palm once more, chest heaving underneath her touch. He snaked it past her beautifully swollen, abused lips, willing it to pool on her tongue.

She had to stop everything. Her mind blazed with a silver haze, a long, painfully guttural moan escaping around his aching length.

She could taste his aether. Taste the very essence of his being. It was so intimately indescribable. All that he is, all that he was - all that he wanted to be. Ice cold and simultaneously scorching. Sickeningly sweet, yet also heartbreakingly bitter. Rich wine and velveteen custard tart. Black ink, firewood and the colour crimson. She could taste his fear. His resentment. His want. His breathtaking passion. His unspoken need. It consumed her wholly and overwhelmingly. Her spine arched up with the intense, agonizing pleasure, levin shooting to her nether, core clenching, crying out to be made whole.

Gasping violently for breath, she released his swollen, engorged shaft with a gasp, looking up at him with wide, needing eyes. Tears welled softly in the corners, threatening to spill over as her chest heaved. The thin line of spittle between his tip and her tongue shined in the light. It dribbled down her chin to her chest, marking her skin with her dedication.

Her heart swelled and her breath choked in her throat, a small, desperate cry leaving her lips. Without a second thought, she climbed rapidly forward, body smothering him, hands pushing him backwards down flat onto the sheets.

She had never known just how heavily it all weighed on his shoulders. How much he dedicated to hiding it from everyone he knew. How the fate of all of their souls and everything they’ve created mattered so intensely. The terror of building and maintaining the underworld and the very foundations of everything they had come to know and love, knowing that it could all be forgotten one day.

She kissed him with a knowing so intense, they shared the same breath. She littered desperate, hungry kisses on every last inch of skin she could get her lips on, hands pooled with glittering gold aether making up for the lost parts.

Hades pants were shallow, low moans gasping out as she set his skin afire. Her aether swelled all over him, enveloping and consuming him. He could feel the stinging burn that foretold tears, the storm of aether in his stomach raging impossibly fast.

He had never felt so starved for touch in all of his millennia. He could never in his wildest machinations have imagined this is what it was like to be… to be seen. To be touched by someone who’s very soul was the matching half of your own. Who without knowing, knew where and how. He never thought about being touched by someone… someone he… loved... could ever feel this way.

His mind flashed to Loghrif and Mitron, the way their hands were held when they were together, grasping for each other when they had to part. He understood the need now. Why they always had to be together. Why would you ever want to be apart when you could feel like this? Be one, ascended whole together like this?

”I need you,” she panted against his damp, kiss bitten skin, lips pressing to the center of his chest. She could feel the heat of his immeasurably hard cock digging into her stomach. Placing her forehead against his, she shifted her hips so that his tip aligned with the slick folds of her nether. Shivers ripped through her spine, kisses trailing down to his shoulder.. ”I need you inside of me. I need to feel you inside of me please. Hades, please. Please take me.” The aether in her palms bloomed, flaring intensely

A carnal groan erupted from his throat as she grazed her teeth down the side of his neck, her pleading shooting levin straight to his desperately aching cock. He felt the wet, damp heat that pressed against his shaft and fought with every onze of self control he had to not just hilt within her like the feral animal he was becoming.

Quickly, before his self control broke in two, he thrust his lips upon hers in desperate fervor, arm wrapping around her back pulling her impossibly close. She ground her hips upon him and with a flash of blinding white light in his eyes and a gasp upon his lips, he snapped his fingers.

She shrieked as her back hit the hard wall behind her, hands splayed out to catch herself. Looking down fervently, she saw wide, dangerously lust filled amber eyes staring up at her.

Her eyes dilated, heart speeding like a hummingfly in her chest.

Amber.

Not silver. Not anymore. Had her… had her aether... had their aether bonded already? This quickly?

”Y-your... your eyes. They’ve ch-” she panted, before cutting herself off with a moan, loud and depraved. Panting, hands desperately grabbing for his hair, twisting and pulling. She threw her head back against the wall as he hitched her thigh over his shoulder, licking a long, languid line up her heat, bottom to top, unashamedly dragging his tongue over her clit with fervor.

Her mind went mercifully blank, posture slumping, her weight on his shoulders as he ate desperate and hungrily. Loud, wet, messy strokes and prods with his tongue made the most wildly obscene and deliciously vulgar noises. He groaned into her heat, hands keeping her pinned to the wall, aether snaking around her thighs and washing over her, the infernal heat of his breath mixing with the insane coolness of his manipulated tendrils.

She cried out as he dragged a thumb, his aether with it, up her sex. Circling her clit, running unabashedly across it, before dragging it back down to her quivering entrance, he pressed with warning. She inhaled shakily, already clenching knowing what was to come.

Hades ran his tongue flat over her clit, relishing the violent shudder of her body as he pressed his thumb in. She immediately clenched around it, hips bucking forward into his mouth, willingly trying to take him deeper.

He groaned into her folds, dragging his tongue and lapping at all he could with lust fueled carelessness. He smiled wickedly knowing he was saturated with her, smothered in the very essence of her heat as he worked hungrily. Adding two more fingers, his other hand grasped at her thigh, nails digging in deep as Azem’s hands pulled at his hair wildly.

”Oh take me take me take me...” she begged mercilessly, moaning the stuttered sentence again and again mindlessly in between the rough thrusts of his fingers. He ignored her, only increasing the fervent pace of his lashings. He could hear her breathing getting shallow, her pants more desperate and frequent as she clenched around him. He could feel her very aether, almost as if he was connected to it, sharing her core desires. It swirled and blazed violently, as hot as the sun, shooting off into a million different nerves, each one rippling with thousandfold pleasure

Her hands tugged at his hair with warning as she hitched herself deeper forward, the crook of her hip now resting on his shoulder, heel digging hard into the muscle of his back. A broken cry left her lips, as his fingers now buried themselves deep within her, his tongue pressing hard into her heat.

Losing all care and sight of anything but the tongue that lapped at her and the fingers that filled her, she gripped his hair, rutting her hips against them. Desperate, whimpering moans erupted from her throat as her thighs began to shake. She could feel the flood about to let loose.

”Ha- .. H-Had.. I’m… Oh I-I’m-” was all she could whisper out before her vision started to blur, eyes fluttering closed, waves overtaking her.

Hades was unbelievably feral, starved for breath and starved still of her; an unrelenting tempered servant. He could feel her starting climax. He could feel how close she was. The hand that dug into her thigh moved to his cock, stroking relentlessly along with the timing of her panting.

A long, low cry elicited from her throat as she shuddered fiercely against him, her core tensing, her hands gripping for purchase within his mussed silver locks. Back arching off the wall, she clenched abysmally around his thrusting fingers, release consuming her.

Hades didn’t cease, drinking deep and desperately as she writhed and came on him, tongue lapping over her mercilessly. He shuddered, growling into her as he savoured the hot, wet wave that enveloped his tongue, cheeks sliding, warm and wet against the inside of her thighs. He didn’t relent until she trembled ceaselessly into him, mindless moaning turning to overstimulated panting.

His cock ached with protest, angry and leaking as he let it go, hand running up the outside of her thigh to grasp it. He curled his fingers one last time, her buck and hiss sending pure, unaspected pleasure straight to his core.

Removing his fingers, he let her trembling hip down slowly, gasping as he took his first deep breath. The air stung his lungs, his aether raging and churning. His cock strained angrily, screaming to be touched.

In one precise stroke, he ran his tongue from her aching entrance, up her folds, flat over her clit, before kissing it softly.

Her body shuddered and he took advantage, wrapping his left arm around her back. He stood swiftly, pressing their bodies together as close as he could. The feel of her against him was incredible. Every inch pressed together, hot and damp and shivering.

He brought his saturated, abused hand to her lips, brushing his thumb over them lightly. Her tongue seductively swiped over the trace, eyes fluttering open with her chest heaving, staring at him with wide, silver eyes.

Something deep within him, something in his very core snapped open. Seeing her stare into him with… with his eyes... coloured from his aether....

His mind flashed back to that night - the night he had first heard her call him by his name. He recalled Lahabrea, looking up to the ceiling as if he could see a thousand, thousand stars littered across it, speaking as if he were at another point in time and space from them.
The words resonated in his mind as they passed from his lips, staring into her silver eyes.

”As astral to umbral. Endless, everpresent duality.”

A small sob choked in her throat as she leaned in, her lips against his. She kissed him ever so softly, ever so gently, the remnants of the aether that smeared their skin burning brightly along with them.

The act of sex itself was not required for being soulbound. Numerous soulbound couples found bonds with many and more, both platonic and sexual. It was the attunement of the aether that bound one soul to another. Aether so perfectly attuned to its opposite that it wove itself into their very core. It became a part of them. An eternal partner for lack of a better word. Someone that would forever... know you.

”Hades, take me,” she whispered with fervor, the words barely a ghost of breath on his lips. ”We took millennia to see what was right in front of us. I don’t want to wait a second more.”

Azem pressed her lips to his one last time, before spinning around in his arms, palms against the wall. Her hair fell messily around her shoulders, skin damp and shimmering in the dim light, legs widening as she arched her back, spreading them apart.

Hades’ breath caught in his throat as he savoured the celestial view, hand moving almost unconsciously to his angry, pulsating length. Ripples of hot, striking levin shot through it as she backed onto him; the wet, mind numbing heat of her folds brushing up against his tip.

Carefully, ever so carefully - the feral side of him at bay for the present moment - he inched the tip in. Shudders overtook his body as the heat enveloped every nerve of his painfully hard length. He groaned a deep, desperate moan; mind empty apart from the feeling of her heat around him.

Slowly, he inched forward, moans becoming more and more depraved with every ilm. Her back arched out in tandem, sinking him deeper alongside his movement.

”Can you feel it? Our aether…” she whispered, her skin alight, consumed with ardor. The aether that swarmed and covered their skin hummed; heat and ice all at once.

He could feel it seep through his skin, through his bone and muscle, right into his soul. A violent, aethereal deluge of spun gold trying so desperately to pierce the thick silver clouds. He could feel it so heavy in his chest. It made him breathless, lungs aching for breath that wasn’t just yet ready to be taken.

Azem groaned with impatience as he slid further, her walls clenching tight around the shaft of his cock. She could feel the ache in the pit of his stomach, the warning signs already beginning.

His hands ran up her toned stomach, the hot and the cold prickling at his palms. He ran them over the exquisite swell of her breasts, cupping selfishly, groping and squeezing as he sunk deeper into her. She let out a breathy moan, one of complete and utter desperation borne of overstimulation, her cheek pressed against the mercifully cool stone of the wall.

He teased, rolled and pulled gently at her buds, pressing his palms flat upon them. He savoured the feeling of them against the nerve ridden heart of his hands, the nerves tingling divinely. So soft and pillowy against his skin, he wanted to rest his head and listen to her beating heart for nigh on eternity if she would permit.

He sunk deeper, almost now fully sheathed. The feeling in the pit of his stomach flared, moving south down to the base of his cock. She relaxed her walls, taking a deep breath.

The edges of her vision were starting to blur, the ice growing colder on her skin.

The attunement was so close. So very, very close. It buzzed and hummed and vibrated so desperately - so violently - every nerve completely awash as the ice creeped into her chest.

Hades’ was identical, the heat so intense it knocked all the breath out of his body. His eyes snapped shut, hands grasping her breast so firmly, he felt the churning aether in his chest suddenly…

They both instantly froze, completely still. Deafeningly silent. Not even a breath could be heard.

As astral to umbral. Endless, everpresent duality.

A single drop. Like the first from a cloud into the eternal sea. A snap, short and quick, bringing creation to life out of the very aether that made up the fabric of the world - they would go on to fight about which it sounded more like in the eternities to come - echoed through what seemed like the very universe itself, ringing deafeningly in their ears.

In an instant, everything changed.

Everything... made sense.

Fierce, blazingly bright sunlight pierced through his soul, parting the thick, churning aether within. Wrapping. Twisting. Weaving. Like threads woven into a tapestry. It swirled and spun, joining the tempest deep within his chest.

Cold, icy tendrils wove their way into the spindles of her spun gold, adorning them. Celestial patterns formed in the depths of her soul, cooling the infernal light within. Her vision returned, crystal clear, brighter than she could ever have imagined. Clarity incarnate.

They both gasped, the clearest, fullest breath their lungs had ever taken filling their chests. Together as one, they breathed anew, the attunement complete.

Her hands left the wall. Taking her weight on her neck, she placed her palms over his, pressing them to her breasts. Waves of light and ice passed through her, making her eyes flutter closed with the sheer intensity.

Hades groaned with the relief of a broken soul. Her touch was pure, nerve shattering pleasure. A thousand bolts of levin to the skin, every nerve radiating and resonating in tandem with its partner’s.

Azem arched backwards, her chest thrusting forward into his touch. He arched down, his torso laying flat against the newly aflame skin of her back. The last of his length slid inside, hilting fully within her.

In duality, they shuddered, moaning together, connected as one.

She had never felt so full. So complete. So right. Out of all the times she had let someone inside of her, not one had ever felt as made for her as him. All the people she had met, had yet to meet - to help and to save; they would be his too. She felt his strength. His wisdom. His care and his caution. She had all that made him so ethereal.

All the times Hades had been inside a person, or let that person inside of him, he had never before in all his eons felt something so cosmically designed, so structurally perfect both in body and soul. He would never design something; never weave, build nor alter something as brilliantly perfect as her. As she was for him. Her soul entwined with his was the ultimate design. Perfection he would strive for in everything he did. Everything he created.

With breath in their lungs, clarity in their minds and lust in their veins, they took a moment, holding each other. Adjusting to one another.

Azem was the first to move, taking his warm hand off her breast, bringing it to her lips. Kissing the back of it softly, she grabbed his index finger, brushing it upon her lower lip. Her tongue traced the curve, her warm breath igniting the nerves under the wet stripe.

Dragging the finger down over her chin, down the base of her neck, tracing a line down the center of her core, she breathed deep. Every single nerve was afire. It all felt so impossibly right. She dragged it down over her navel, sinfully stopping right where she wanted him to touch.

Hades shivered as it hit the saturation of her sex, slowly circling her clit softly, reveling at the warmth of their tandem touch.

He kissed the back of her neck gently, still circling, relishing the clenching of her walls around his cock. His nerves ignited, the warning pool that had shifted to the base of his length starting to surge forward.

Azem took her hand back to her breast, the softest of gasps leaving her lips. Eyes fluttering closed, she swallowed dryly, tongue tracing over her lips. She could feel him deep inside of her, every spot flooded with the warmth of his length, begging - screaming - to move.

His hand squeezed her breast tight as the other circled her pearl, eliciting an overstimulated hiss from her lips. A grateful moan escaped her throat as he began to finally thrust with speed, every inch of cock warm and wet, resistance replaced with rhythm.

Pace picking up frantically, his hand in tandem, he hilted himself in her repeatedly. Over and over, he rutted his hips divinely, hers snapping down to meet him at just the perfect angle. The pool of warning became consequence, welling dangerously within, threatening to spill.

She felt his desperation. The feeling in his core. She knew he was close.

Snapping her fingers, a flash of the brightest, crisp white light swallowed them, before she felt the soft down of his bed underneath her under her hands and knees.

With a whisper, she said the words - ready to be ruined in the most wonderful way conceivable.

”Hades. Take me.”

It was all he ever wanted to hear again, the opera be damned to the eternal hells.

Hands grasping her hips impossibly tight, he thrust forwards, hilting right to the very last ilm within her. The duality was astounding. He flexed his length; eternal love and adoration for the woman below him in his heart, the feral impulse to claim her ripping through his veins.

He fucked her. He fucked her relentlessly and frantically, losing himself in her addictive heat. Losing and indulging himself in his pleasure.

She cried out with the most sinfully devastating gasp as he withdrew fully and hilted within her, pounding her ferociously. She wanted nothing more than to take all he had to give and all he could supply to her.

Hades’ growls quickly became throated pants as he railed her into the abused sheets below, feeling every curve and clench around his shaft. He was close. He was so, so close. He could feel the flood about to burst. His silver locks stuck to his skin; to his temples and his cheeks, hanging limp over his eyes. His teeth bit down on his lower lip, his head thrown back in pure ecstasy, eyes closed. ”I… I-I’m-”

Azem quickly pushed herself up so that she was upright, back pressed against his coiling, muscular stomach. His cock buried hopelessly deeper within her, her thighs splaying open further.

Hastily, she grabbed his hands off of her spread hips, lacing her fingers within his and wrapped his arms tight around her waist. She leaned her neck into the crook of his shoulder, pressing her flushed cheek to the damp skin of his jaw.

She kissed the corner of his lips as he fucked her more and more frantically, clenching selfishly around his cock, shivers rolling up her spine as his urgent pants turned to silent gasps. Her eyes lulled closed, needing nothing more than his length to rut against all of her spots, his seed to spill hot and sinfully inside of her.

”Take me, Hades. Please,” she gasped one word at a time, as he squeezed his arms impossibly tight around her, lips latching onto her neck. ”Take me. Fill me.”

The groan started low and quiet, before turning desperate and husked against her neck, maintaining his speed and force. The flood gates broke wide and the wave surged forward, consuming him in the most awe-inspiring, intensely intimate pleasure he had ever known.

He rutted into her once, twice, letting out a cry that was lust incarnate to her ears against her neck, muffling it against the damp skin. She relished in it selfishly as he hit his peak; hot, sticky seed spilling forth as the warmth enveloped her entirely.

Azem gasped as he shuddered behind her, the aftershocks and twitches of his spent, abused cock brushing the sweetest spots within. She could feel the sweat drip down the inside of her thighs, the seed spilling out around his shaft to join it. She relished the feeling; it being proof that they were part of one another.

It took a few moments between them to catch their breaths, chests heaving in tandem.

She sat back on his thighs, shaking with strain, burning in the most wonderful way. She ached - oh how she ached - beautifully, every muscle - every nerve and cell - in her body humming and throbbing with exhilaration and relief.

He held her tight, still throbbing and spent inside of her, lips pressed to her neck, breathing in her scent.

Nothing would ever, nor could ever be as cosmically perfect as this very moment in time. Wholly complete. Deeply divine. He could never draw a more perfect design.

Endless, everpresent duality.

***

The sound of flowing, sanguine water echoed through the streets in a marvelously relaxing way. The voices of endless lively Amaurotines played backdrop to what might have been the most exciting (and scandalous) sight to have been seen in Amaurot for - well, ever really.

The cool water was blissful on her sore, wonderfully aching shoulders, the steady stream of the fountain spilling forth. The fountain features were littered throughout the streets. Masses of people - family, friends, neighbours, children, teachers and parents alike, all gathered in the large square pools, grateful for the soothing relief of the icy cold water.

Some preferred just to dip their toes, some ventured in waist height and some were brave, opting to submerge themselves completely to their masks. Children splashed around, laughing and wading through the water, chasing each other from one side to another.

Azem couldn’t help but beam, chest swelling with pride. She didn’t know if the whole fountain plan would have been popular. But looking around, she was ashamed she ever doubted his design. It was the most magnificent sight.

If there was one thing she didn’t doubt though; they all looked absolutely fabulous in their new bathing suits.

Lahabrea had done an unquestionably fantastic job with the conceptualization and creation. The men looked handsome in their trunks, comfortable and stylish. The females looked gorgeous, lounging about like women of leisure, deities laying by the fountainside.

She certainly felt like one in hers, sitting on a step, waist deep in the water, watching the world go by. She looked down at the man to her left, a beaming smile of sunshine on her face.

Emet-Selch sat next to her, water to his chest, neck leaned back against the step above, his newly amber eyes closed in bliss. His thumb stroked along the side of her wrist, fingers laced together, hands held tightly by their sides under the joyfully cool water..

”Ah I thought I might find you two here together,” a familiar voice chuckled to her right, submerging himself down next to her. ”You’re quite the talk of the department. All of the departments, actually.”

Azem’s smile beamed at him as she leaned her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes. ”Thank you,” she whispered, quiet and sound against him. ”I’ve missed you Hythlodaeus.”

His hand came up to her hair, stroking it softly, tucking it behind her ear. ”I knew you’d figure it out. I knew when you left, I wouldn’t see you again until you had. Welcome back, traveler. I missed you more than you’ll ever know.”

She sighed contentedly against him, glad to have him back at their side. The team was back together. She squeezed Emet’s hand softly, lips smiling as he squeezed back. Breathing deep, her aether hummed freely within her chest.

Looking up at Hythlodaeus, a concerned frown formed on her face.

”Where is-”

A head popped out of the water silently in front of them, a mess of blonde hair wet against his head. Red mask brilliant against the clear white of the water, Lahabrea stared at her wordlessly, before gliding over with stealth, sidling silently up to Emet-Selch.

He leaned in, lips no more than an ilm away from his ear, nostrils flaring slightly. Azem bit her lip, leaning into Hythlodaeus, who gripped her arm tight.

He stared at him for a good half minute. Emet was oblivious, basking in the calm of his creation.

”You smell of intercourse,”.

Emet cried out in shock as he jumped, water spluttering and splashing everywhere as he crawled desperately away, backing into Azem and Hythlodaeus, grasping for her hand.

”FUCK, Lahabrea,” he hissed, gripping her wrist tightly, a terrified look on his face.

Lahabrea blinked blankly at him twice, before his head disappeared under the water.

Azem and Hythlodaeus broke into hysterics, grasping each other for support as they gasped for air, tears streaming down their faces.

”He is well, as you can see. He is a big fan of your ‘bathing suit’.” Hythlodaeus choked out, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. ”To be frank, so am I. His behind looks marvelous in it. Plus, all that flesh, out for the world to see. I am naught but a humble whore who accepts the food Zodiark has blessed me with this fine day.”

Azem struggled to breathe, a smile radiating as her musical laugh faded into the air. Hythlodaeus patted his chest, his aether dancing happily. ”You look like the whole seven courses in yours too, traveler. I know who will be eating that up tonight.”

Lahabrea’s head popped up abruptly right in front of Emet-Selch again.

”You will sup on her flesh,” he said, eyes glowering ominously, before disappearing straight down, gone without the slightest trace that he was ever there.

Azem burst into laughter again, clutching her sides as she heard a terrified cry come from beside her.

”FUCK, LAHABREA!”

Chapter Text

“Ahem- Are you two quite done?” the voice echoed from the other side of the door.

Hythlodaeus held a pointed index finger up at the small window, as if telling them to wait just a moment.

Azem crossed her arms, sighing as she turned, back hitting the door with a muted thud. “Come on! Hurry it up! If we miss this meeting, I will never forgive you. Loghrif said Nabriales showed up to her office with a script for a 7 act play called ‘Bumble Battles’ that he plans to unveil at the meeting and I’ll be damned if I miss Elidibus’ reaction.”

Hythlodaeus groaned quietly. He exhaled through his nose, turning his head to face the window above. “I’ll be with you in j-just a mo-”

A low, fevered growl cut him off as two fingers appeared from below, shoving possessively between his lips. Lahabrea’s eyes shot up, glowering at him threateningly. Hythlodaeus squeaked around the intruding fingers as his lover pulled them out, disappearing under his robe again. He sighed with relief as the infernal heat and toe-curling tightness of Lahabrea’s throat enveloped his cock once more.

“There you are,” he heard Emet’s annoyed voice sounding from behind the door, muffled footsteps echoing as in the hall. “Why haven’t you left? Didn’t you hear Nabr-”

“PLEASE. STOP. TALKING,” Hythlodaeus bellowed as his head fell back, hands desperately grasping for purchase against the smooth plane of the door behind him. Lahabrea had thrown his leg roughly over a broad shoulder, the back of his throat snug against the achingly leaking head of his length.

“Hythlodaeus? What-? What are you-…” Emet said, eyes scanning the door. His confused annoyance quickly turned to a blank frown. “Oh. You’re being a whore. As usual,” he muttered. Azem chuckled, reaching a hand out. He took it swiftly, joining her, back against the door. The pair leaned quietly together, staring down the hall.

It was silent for a moment.

And then it wasn't.

“SO… WHICH ONE OF YOU IS THE BOTTOM?” he called out.

Azem snorted, staring incredulously up at him.

”What?” he said plainly, shrugging his shoulders. “I’m curious.”

Azem’s eyes lowered, face deep in contemplation. “Confound you. Now I’m curious too.”

They both let out cries of surprised protest as the doors they were leaning upon suddenly burst open, throwing them up against the walls of the hallway. Out strode Hythlodaeus, huffling angrily as he adjusted his robe. “You owe me an orgasm,” he snapped, pointing at each of them in turn with a sharp finger, “and don’t think I’ll forget.”

Azem giggled, taking the outstretched hand of Emet, picking herself up off the floor. “A just penance I suppose.”

Emet scoffed, dusting off his own robes. “You are clearly the bottom, Hythlodaeus.”

“Mutual penetrants of flesh,” came an abrupt, low grunt right in his ear.

The Architect jumped, hissing as he recoiled away from the far too close being behind him.

“Fuck, Lahabrea!-”