#dubcon.

"Dark…under…or is it wonder? Yonder?" The script is too curly and extraneous to make out the word. With a defeated groan, I stop my hands from tearing the note in half, instead slapping it on the desk and tossing my head down after it. 

It's been an hour and I'm no closer to deciphering these notes. Aurelius can't even read it-- his own handwriting!-- and left me to decipher his notes alone.

It's a festival, he told me that much, and I saw several words beginning with 'f' that may have been 'festival' as well. A solstice celebration, thrown at the full moon to bring in spring. Being a god, Aurelius is expected to bring it in, and has made more than enough notes in preparation, but gods be damned if I can't read any of them. 

I've gathered that he's made to approve all stalls and vendors, as well as the arrangement of the physical stands, and the few notes I've been able to decipher all tell me he's woefully behind.

The library is all I can stand right now, the maze that is this house has too many twists and turns for me to even begin to parse which way is up. Am I sitting upside-down right now? Is the floor going to sink out from under me when I step out the door? Who knows! Everyone except me, apparently!

So I'm stuck trying to sound my way through month's worth of papers and plans, with nowhere to go and no end in sight. And I'd asked for this, begged for something to do. I'd gotten so restless that I'd begun rearranging the books in the library, only for the house to spit them back onto the floor until I'd returned them to their original place. I've been cleaning and re-cleaning for days waiting for something to happen, and the library is pristine, not a speck of dust to be found.

I still don't have my own room, and I wish I did. A place I could retreat to. But Aurelius is adamant I stay here until then. He comes and goes, doing whatever a god of the woods does with his day. I'd asked once, trying to make conversation after the night of the thunderstorm, but he told me I didn't have to worry about it. That it was his burden to bear. 

I sleep in here nearly every night, as well. It's only been a handful of days since the thunderstorm, and I had thought allowing me into his nest of a bed had been some unspoken permission. The house leads me to his room every time I ask her to lead me, but no matter if I sleep by his side or on the other side of the room, I always wake up in the library. The house cannot move me, not to my knowledge, so it must be Aurelius himself picking me up and removing me from his bed.

It's been cold dismissal after cold dismissal. I have nothing to do, nowhere to go. Am I just supposed to sit here, waiting for him to return?

Footsteps shake the stairway and Aurelius' head rises, branching antlers first, from the floor. Whether he's stepping in from the ever-changing hallway, or coming up through the stairs, he always makes a racket. He doesn't need to, but there was one incident where he simply appeared from the shadows in the dead of night and it nearly stopped my heart. Ever since, he always makes his presence known.

Aurelius stalks across the room, his footsteps heavy and wet. He shakes himself like a dog and a torrent of snow falls to the floor, which melts in seconds. 

I want to ask him what he does, I want to be involved in his comings and goings. But it's not my place, apparently.

A hand falls heavy on my head, ruffling my hair. "Has my doe made any progress?" 

I blow a raspberry and my head falls to the desk with a thunk. Aurelius laughs quietly, picking up my head the same way I'd hold a fruit in my hand, and leans over my shoulder. 

"Are you bored? Would you like something else to occupy yourself?" He speaks low and soft, his voice like honey over my skin. I know what he implies, and it sends a pleasant shiver up my spine. As much as I'd enjoy that, I feel laying with him will only make me more restless.

Pushing away from the desk, I blurt out, "I need to get out." And I regret saying it, but the walls of this room feel smaller and smaller with each passing day. 

Aurelius hums, a hand coming to his jaw. "Have you not been outside? I know that's a necessity with humans."

I begin to respond, to say I don't know what I'm allowed or barred from doing here, that he hasn't told me anything and totes me around only when he sees fit, but I think better of it, and my jaw closes with a click.

Taking my silence for astonishment or possibly realization, he laughs again. He ruffles my hair, and I feel like a child. "The house will lead you outside, my doe."

We exit down the stairs, the same spiraling staircase we came in through, after passing through a grand entry hall of gold and silver. 

The same pall of mist that cut off my vision in the forest is keeping me from seeing more than a stone's throw away. I can make out the barn, and the beginning's of a fence in the distance, but we're too far away to hear any animals.

We step out from the shade of the house and into the daylight. The warmth is instant, as is the humidity, and I have to shield my eyes from the reflection of the sun off the fog. Aurelius leads me towards the barn. It's large, like one I'd see on an estate, with multiple stories and a loft. I bet there are horses inside. 

Aurelius rests a hand between my shoulder blades and says, "If you want something to do, I suppose you can tend to the animals."

I glance up at him. "Do you normally tend to them?" 

He shakes his head. "They don't require it."

I purse my lips. Then why have me do it? Well, I suppose I asked for something to do. But I'd rather do something with a purpose. Wash the clothes I wear, or make something. I despised embroidery when my mother made me do it, but I'd gladly pick up a hoop now if it would whittle away the hours spent in that house of mirrors.

But what kind of animal doesn't require care? A dead one, usually.

We walk towards the barn, and I'm no less frustrated with Aurelius' cryptic answers than I was before.

Next to the barn is the fence I saw, dotted with the blobby forms of pigs, and beyond is another barn, smaller than the first. There's enough field here to house hundreds of animals, and even more beyond the clearing.

As my eyes scan the animals appearing through the mist, they land on a blob of black. I think it impossible, until I hear a familiar bleat. 

"Mortimer!" I cry, rushing to the black blob of fur in the distance. The light catches on his curled horns and shiny coat, much healthier than when he left me. There's a red collar, loose around his neck, and a small bell hanging off the bottom. It jingles when he whips his head to see me, and he bleats again. He jumps into the air and kicks his back legs out, running up to greet me. I throw my arms around his neck, tears stinging my nose.

"Mortimer," I run a hand over his glossy fur, and shake him lightly by the curling horns. Each touch sends a small plume of gold dust into the air, resembling the magic from the forest. He's chewing happily on the grass, there's not a scratch on him, and he actually seems to have gained some weight. 

All around me are animals of varying sizes. Goats, pigs, chickens, cats, and dogs, all appearing through the mist like a bad omen. 

I turn back to Aurelius, who's still several yards away, slowly catching up to us. 

I grin wide and raise my voice, "All these are yours?"

"In a way," he says once he reaches me. "Their bodies are all I require for any magical exchange, so their essence I retain here."

"That's…" I trail off, glancing at the hundreds of animals in the field. So many years of sacrifices, but these animals haven't aged a day. I wonder how many other villages he's served, how many humans have called on him. Aurelius bends down, and Mortimer shifts in my grip. He turns his head away from us, and I pat his flank to comfort him. He's uneasy, moreso as Aurelius comes closer, eyes shifting down to the floor. They're afraid of him.

"Why animals?" I ask. 

Aurelius tilts his head. "Animals?"

"For…offerings. You always demand animals."

He shrugs, a very human-like expression. "When humans first came to my forest, I asked for greater offerings. But your meat isn't very appetizing. The fear sours the blood."

He melts part way into the ground, his head drawing nearer, his posture is mimicking my seated position. "I've also never met a human that's kept me entertained." He gently lays a hand on Mortimer, petting him. "They're always too busy cowering, or begging for some favor."

I furrow my brow, smoothing a hand over Mortimer's fur. What sets me apart from the rest, then? Aurelius sometimes treats me like a pet, but I'm a human, he must know this. Will he get bored of me, too? 

"Animals are simpler," he says, voice quiet. "The magic requested in the rituals is not demanding enough for human sacrifice, and animals are much sweeter to eat." 

I've never heard him speak this much in one go. At least, not so honestly. His usual cadence is cryptic, or a non-answer that he leaves me to parse on my own. He's easier to deal with out here. Is it the animals? He is a forest god, after all, it would make sense if he had an affinity for them.

I may be pushing my luck, but we haven't spent time together like this since our first meeting. And I don't think he'd lie to me, if he's even able. "How many humans have you brought?"

He acts like he's about to shake his head, then thinks better of it. "You are the first I've brought into my home."

I scrunch my face. "Those fae in the wood said…"

Our attention is caught by the sharp whistle of a flute, and we both turn our heads to the noise. 

It's a herd of satyrs, colored various levels of pink and pastel blue. They approach as a group, their all-pink leader wearing a gilded golden crown. A few hold lyres or pan flutes, and others have flowers in their hair. None are wearing clothes, save for the leader with a sash of vines over one shoulder.

Aurelius brushes his snout against my head, his form of a kiss, and stands. "One moment, my sweet doe."

He steps away from me to meet the satyrs, offering a greeting I can't hear. They all bow at the waist in front of him, and they remind me of a herd of sheep in front of a towering shepard.

I'm curious, though, so I creep up behind Aurelius, making sure to stay out of sight of most of the herd. I keep my head down, but I can feel a few interested eyes on me as I step behind Aurelius.

"We seek an audience with you this festival," The lead satyr says, their voice high pitched and airy, almost melodic.

Aurelius huffs through his nose at the same time his hand reaches down and pats me on the arm in acknowledgement. "And what will you offer?"

The pink leader makes a hand motion, and several satyrs holding sacks of grain lift them up. Even standing upright, none of them make eye contact with Aurelius, not even the pink leader. All their eyes are downcast, averted to the ground.

I glance back and forth between the group and him, a question forming on my lips, when a blue head pops out from the side of the group and focuses in on me.

They separate from the group, eyes trained on me. They're mainly pink with blue spots like ink droplets over their body, and bright, golden eyes.

"What a pretty human," they say, looking me up and down. "Who are you?"

I open my mouth to respond with my name, but think better of it. When my jaw clicks shut, the satyr's eyes glitter with mirth.

"Oh, you know better, don't you? Too smart for the likes of me!"

I look to the group still speaking to Aurelius, and back to the individual. "What're you doing here?"

"I'll tell you for a kiss," they tease, falling into giggles at my wide-eyed expression. "We are here for the festival! The grand Seer wishes for better, so we come with an offering. Where will you be?" 

"With--" I stop myself again before I say his name. "With my lord." I gesture up to Aurelius, but the satyr doesn't follow my hand, keeping his gaze firmly on me.

"Do you have a nice dress to wear? We make the loveliest clothing made by the finest of silk worms." 

"N-no, no thank you…"

They push, "Oh come now, don't be so shy, I'm only asking for your benefit! You look like you could use some cheering up, my dear!"

"I, uh--" They're not listening to me, I can't get a word in edgewise.

"Yes, yes, come with me, let me show you--"

"I said no!" In a rush, I push the satyr away. They stumble back, face falling open in shock as their basket falls to the ground.

The commotion pauses the negotiations, and Aurelius turns to us. "Is something the matter?"

I start, "It's-- no!" I gesture to the satyr that's picking up their basket. "They wouldn't leave me alone!" Nothing will get done if I keep quiet. I'm out here because I said something, I'm talking with Aurelius because I spoke up.

Aurelius crouches low, level with the blue spotted satyr, and growls a warning. "You're bothering her."

The lead satyr with the golden crown goes wide-eyed at the ground. They usher the spotted one back, knocking them upside the head, and they all offer hasty bows. "Forgive us, my lord, we all--"

"Leave us," he waves them off, and they scurry away into the tree line. He turns his attention to me. Aurelius picks me up with one great arm, cradling me against his chest. His free hand reaches up and brushes over my head.

"You are unharmed?"

"Fine, I'm fine," I say, pushing his hand away. It returns to stroke a long line down my face. 

His head turns to the place where the satyrs disappeared. "You have to be sturdy, otherwise the folk will steal you away."

I'm reminded of the large creature that saved me from the three fae on our way here, and I snort. "I'll be on my guard."

"Good," he says, licking a short note up my cheek. "No human of mine will be tricked."

Setting me on the ground, Aurelius considers me. His head stays low, and he sniffs my shoulder, one long inhale followed by a rumbling growl. He rests his hands heavy on my shoulders, forcing me to sit on the ground, as he continues running his snout over my chest, under my neck, down my arms to my hands.

I've been using the soap the house provides me, the scented honey and milk, quite frequently now. I'd rationed it at first, but it never seems to run low, so I've begun applying it all over my body. It's a luxury we could never afford at home, and I adore the scent. It seems Aurelius enjoys it as well.

"You continue to wear my clothes," he says, licking a long stripe up my neck.

"I-I don't have any of my own," I say, grasping at his form, looking for any purchase at all and finding only silky shadow. 

Aurelius rears up, head cocking to one side. His eye sockets ripple like dark waters, and I get the feeling he's looking me over. "You're not doing this to please me?"

I feel like I've done something wrong, but there's no point in trying to lie. "No. I only have the single dress you brought me in." And it barely qualifies as such anymore. Between multiple washings, walking and sleeping in it, the sturdy material already has several holes along the hem as well as multiple stains I can't seem to wash out. 

I've taken to wearing Aurelius' large shirts as dresses. Any pants are far too large, and I've seen no shoes laying about. The shirts stop just below my thighs, and in any other world I'd be humiliated at the scandal, but the only one to see me so far is Aurelius. And personally, I think he'd rather have me naked.

Aurelius cocks his head, the motion very bird-like. "You would like more clothes?"

"I…" I start, the atmosphere taking a harsh turn from heated to casual. Right now, all I want is for him to keep touching me. But if this is my only chance… "I would like more of my own clothes, yes."

He sits back completely, and before I can stand, he's already walking away from me. The air is cool despite the warmth of the sun, and I quickly pick myself up and chase after him. 

"Where are you going?"

"Market," he says, holding up a long claw. "You did want to leave the house."

His tone is accusing, and I feel the need to defend myself. "There's nothing wrong with the house!" 

He waves me off. "You're my responsibility, come, let us go." 

I don't know what to think. One second he's all over me, the next we're prepping for a fae market I've never heard of. Surely he wanted to continue? Am I that unappealing in his clothing? I must be, because he tells me to change into my worn down kirtle when we reach the house. 

I fish it off the drying line, and fit it over my form. 

I've gained some weight since coming here, the plentiful food and lack of work has turned me into a pampered human-housecat. But I can no longer count my ribs or see my hipbones, and my face is no longer gaunt like my brother's had been on his deathbed. Even my hair, usually flatter than dirt, has obtained a sheen and is beginning to form curls again.

The kirtle is not yet a tight fit, but it soon will be if I keep eating and lazing about.

***

Teleporting through the shadows is nothing like the portal I stepped through to arrive here. Darkness envelops me like a blanket tucked too tight. It's cold and wet, and I can't see my hand in front of my face. In fact, I don't think I have a body at all. I try to reach for Aurelius and find I'm alone in this storm, the wind in my ears, the cold in my bones. 

And then it's over, my heart beating wildly and my gut churning. 

Aurelius drops us in front of a huge cave entrance on the side of a mountain, tall and wide enough to fit a manor in the mouth. The inside is dark, I can't see a thing past where the sun cuts across the rock. Aurelius starts forward without warning and I follow quickly behind.

The entrance leads to a staircase, no less than twenty men across that leads down into the mountain. The darkness at the entrance must have been some kind of magic, because inlaid in the ceiling is glowing crystals of every color, lighting our way down. Some are as small as my hand, others big enough to take up the library. They sparkle with magic, lighting our way down almost like sunlight.

Aurelius keeps a few steps ahead of me, the multi-colored lights completely absorbed by the black of his clothing. He's in a smaller form-- shorter than me, in pants and a doublet, with funnily enough a hood that pops up from the neck. His skull has shrunk to that of a rabbit, if the rabbit were the size of a bear. I don't know where he got these smaller clothes, and I wish I'd known before asking him to bring me all the way out here.

We walk what feels like several stories down, and I'm hoping this place isn't like the house, that these stairs are the only ones we'll take, or else I'm going to need a bath after this. Would Aurelius join me in a bath if I asked him? Does he even need to bathe? Would he want to see the soap I use on my body? 

I sigh though my nose. Probably not. I'm still a bit strung up from earlier, I can feel it like electricity in my veins, waiting to burst out.

I'm too distracted by my thoughts that I run right into Aurelius at the bottom of the stairs.

"My lord, I'm sorry!" I step back.

Aurelius doesn't respond, only holds out his hand. "I will not lose you in this market. Stay close."

I grab his hand, so much smaller than I'm used to, with blunted nails instead of a long singular claw. He's no less warm, but I miss the size, how he could envelop me.

I thought the market would be inside some kind of cave system, but if it is, then the mountain has been cracked open. Sunlight streams in from above, illuminating the hundreds of sprawling stalls and buildings crammed into the bowl of the open cave. Splitting the market in half is a river, as wide as the street with several bridges to either side. 

There's as many colored stalls and buildings here as there were crystals in the walls. There's doors built high into the mountain so only someone with wings can access it. Multiple storied buildings made of ice, or single slabs of gemstones, or huge branching trees. As we step in the streets, I see smaller stalls, roofing only reaching up to my waist, doors a child would struggle to fit an arm into. Flitting in the water are creatures I could only dream of, diving in and out of shops inside the water itself. 

"If we're fetching clothes, would I be able to purchase some other items?"

Aurelius' hood turns to me, the rabbit skull tilting slightly. "Have you not asked the house?"

"She hasn't understood what I'm asking for."

Not for lack of trying, of course. The house and I have a method of communication all our own now, but it is very much a developing thing. I speak to the air, and she attempts to help me. The library would be useful if I knew how to read well enough, and she's been kind enough to find me books with large print and easy words. But I asked for a comb so I could plait my hair back, and I received several domed shells, pieces of a beehive, and a handful of sticks. 

I've also been eating with my hands much of my time here. I'm not unused to that, but I would like to eat my food while it's still hot. And Aurelius hasn't been present with me for my meals, so it would make sense that he doesn't know.

He leads me through the winding streets by the hand. I see cinnamon buns the size of my head, I smell cooking meat and a stall toting shiny jewelry far too small for my fingers. There's so much to look at that my head spins wildly back and forth with each step. 

All around us are fae. Some are similar to the ones from the forest, or the satyrs from earlier. Theu walk on two legs and are covered in scales, fur, or hide. There are fae that walk on all four, so close in appearance to an animal that I mistake them for one until they point to wares with a paw, or shake their head and a plume of golden magic shimmers down from their fur. There's short, walking trees and tiny fairies that could land in my palm. Forms made of elements, or cloaked in shadow like Aurelius, so many shapes and sizes that my head is spinning barely five minutes into the market. 

"There," Aurelius says, pointing over the steam. This hand is dark like the shadows, with blunted nails instead of one long claw. A child's hand, almost, small as the one I'm holding.

We cross the bridge over the water, and end up at a covered stand. There's a sign above the open walk-in that I can't read, but Aurelius leads us inside. 

The sun filtering through the fabric casts the whole stall in a warm glow, assisted by several glowing gems lining the top of the structure. 

The shopkeeper is a selkie, I recognize her features from the books-- tanned skin, all black eyes, rounded nose, long black hair pulled into an intricate braid over her shoulder. She's wearing a sleeveless shirt with a large fur coat thrown over her shoulders. 

The stand is fabric, all fabric. Folded on shelves, in giant rolls against the wall, scraps in bins and so much more. Reds and golds, greens and blues, even fabric that changes color when I hold it to the light. It's all gorgeous, woven brocades and pressed silks, it's something high court wear would be made of. I pick up a simple bolt of undyed fabric, no pattern, no embellishments, and it's the nicest thing I've ever held. I can't afford any of this. I gather a few more bolts in my hands, hoping it isn't too much and approach the shopkeep. 

From my stilted readings in the library, I've confirmed a few things about interacting with the fair folk. Not giving out true names is the biggest, and the other is that everything is a transaction. It can be a physical item, like money, or food. Or it can be intangible like knowledge, words, or memories. 

I don't have any money, and I didn't want to steal from Aurelius' home. I only know a handful of words, and I'd like to keep them to myself until I learn more. That leaves me with memories to trade. The few sources I found mentioned that the more clear the memory the more valuable it is, and I have plenty of those that I can live without. 

The first time my mother struck me, the first sick animal I was made to slaughter, the stench of death when burying my parents and brother. I would gladly put those memories away forever if I could. 

I couldn't find anything about how the actual transaction took place, so I wrote down the memories as best as I could on a slip of paper. I pull one out at random from my pocket, and hand it to the selkie shopkeep. 

"I want this," I hold up the bolts of silk in my hand. "For that." I motion to the paper. There's a few extra bolts of the nicer fabric in my arm that I'm willing to trade away, and tucked in the middle are the fabrics I believe I can afford. They looked the cheapest, at least. 

The selkie woman eyes the paper, her face falling into confusion. She chances a glance at Aurelius, but quickly looks away. Holding the paper in her fingers, she gingerly opens it and frowns at my writing. She rotates the note, realization dawning on her face, before it quickly crumples into disgust. The paper ignites in her hands and burns to ash before it hits the floor. 

"This is no good here," she says, nose twitching. 

"I--" I stutter, looking from the shopkeep to the ashes collecting on the carpet. "I-I, um." 

She sighs heavily, arms coming up to cross over her chest, and even without pupils I can see she's rolling her eyes. Her gaze lands on the floor in front of Aurelius, and she holds out one hand. 

"My lord?"

As if I don't exist, Aurelius turns back to the shopkeep and flips his wrist, where a crystal flower sits in his palm. The selkie's black eyes go wide, and she snatches it out of his hand.

"Take the whole store for all I care!" She says excitedly, holding the flower like a precious gift. She turns away from us and opens a box, gently setting the flower inside. 

I look between the shopkeep and Aurelius again, confused and more than a bit embarrassed. If Aurelius was going to pay, why didn't he say so? Why did he let me humiliate myself like a child? 

I need to be independent here, I need to speak up for myself. But I'm well aware that I'm out of my depths. I can barely read, what use could I be here? 

We step out of the stall, more fabric than I could ever need in my arms, when Aurelius pulls me aside to a small break in the crowd. The flow of creatures parts for us like water around a rock, at least one arm's span on either side. 

Aurelius gestures to my fabrics with his hands, and I hand him one off the top. 

"What did you give her?"

"A favor," he says as he stuffs the fabric into his cloak. It disappears in the shadows, and the cloak lays flat against his frame again. 

"That sounds dangerous."

Under the hood, I see his mouth open on a smile, and he chuckles low. "She will never use it, if she knows what's good for her. If the favor is beneath me, I will be insulted that she wasted my time, and have every reason to kill her. And if it is too inconvenient or I am forced to admit my own fault I could become angry and, well, she should have thought of that before calling upon me."

"You have…quite the reputation, my lord."

He growls at a fae behind me that must have stepped too close, and I chew on my lip when they squeak and step around us. I don't like being made to feel like a child, but having such a powerful god as my coin purse is a heady feeling. I can afford anything I want here. 

"I have lived for many years," Aurelius says, tucking the last bolt of fabric into his cloak. "It is difficult not to garner a reputation."

I fold my arms over my chest, watching the crowd move around us. 

"How can I repay you, my lord?" 

The rabbit skull, so unfamiliar than the deer I'm used to, tilts to the side in a way I've seen so many times, the two images ha e a hard time combining in my mind. 

"I'll think of something," he says vaguely, grabbing my hand and leading us down the street once more. 

Should I be more worried that this exchange remains open? Should I lay down rules for the exchange before he calls in whatever favor he wants of me? 

But our day isn't over yet. There's more trades to be made. And 

We stop at a human wares stand, run by a small fae with wings. They remind me of the ones that kidnapped me in the forest, if they were shrunk down to a child's size. I hide behind Aurelius, who only chuckles and pushes me forward. 

Laid out on the stand is dozens of mismatched sets of human wares.  Combs, hair pins, cloth scraps, and buttons. So many buttons. There's no order to the scattering of mostly junk on the table, no separation between what's broken and what works. 

I pick up a ring with a cracked gemstone in it, and set it back down when something clicks into place. 

It's all things taken from human homes, stolen. I try not to think about this as I pick up what I've been missing, and I try not to think about what I owe Aurelius in the end as I hand him a comb, a hand mirror, as well as several forks, spoons, and knives. I also grab some buttons for the clothing I'll be making, and I spot a small metallic tin of needles and spools of thread. 

The fae seems more than happy to hand over the metal, attempting to shove more into my hands and into my basket. I tamp down the rush of shame as Aurelius produces a small flower to hand to the shopowner before we exit. 

As I hand individual items for Aurelius to tuck away, I hold back the sigh forming in my chest. 

This place is beautiful, the most beautiful I've ever seen. I've never been in a market inside a cracked mountain, or bargained with fae that deal in favors instead of money. But I

"Stay," Aurelius says, patting my shoulder with one hand. Before I can say anything otherwise, he melts into the ground and disappears. 

The crowd closes in around me, the natural flow returning to the folk walking it. I suppose the bubble effect was only for Aurelius. 

The sigh I was holding back escapes, tinted with additional annoyance. I'm not a pet, and he continues to treat me like one. I'm a human, and he's disregarding me. 

Suddenly, I'm yanked by the arm, nearly falling over my feet as I'm dragged away by the stall. I go to scream for help, but think better of it when I see I've been absconded by a human. 

He has warm brown skin, upturned eyes glittering with mirth, and a straight  nose. His wavy black hair is just long enough to be tucked behind his ears, ears that contain several gold hoops and a small chain. He's wearing the nicest doublet and pant set I've ever seen-- with gold threads!-- and he smiles at me like he's in on a secret. 

"Oh, I--" I look back at Aurelius examining another stand, and I move to call out to him, but the man covers my mouth. His hand is warm and soft, and I want to trust him.

"It's just a bit of fun, yeah? Let the old master worry over you for a bit." He pats my arm reassuringly. 

I want to argue, but Aurelius told me to stay. Like an animal. Maybe I need to show him that I'm not a dog. 

The man smiles at me, his grin wide. "You're the god's new mate."

"Ky--" he cuts me off by pressing his fingers to my lips, and my face burns with shame. I almost gave him my name. That's twice today. He winks at me and lowers his fingers. 

"Call me Gregory." 

"You can call me, um," I look around, frowning. The only thing around us is the market. "Stall?" 

Gregory barks a laugh. "That's terrible. Pick something similar to your own name, that way you'll respond to it, and you can reuse it." 

I think for a moment. "Kaitlyn." 

"That's perfect. So Kaitlyn, what can I do for you?" 

"Um," I frown again. This is another test.

Everything is an exchange here. If I acknowledge that I need help, he may come to me for a favor in the future. "Nothing. I don't need anything."

Gregory claps his hands together  "Wonderful start! I'm impressed." 

At my confused expression, he lets out another laugh. "You don't have to worry about me. I'm not fae, so I have no interest in tricking you or bargaining."

We take a sharp right, directly into the heart of the market, past more shop owners shouting their wares. He points out the shops with the best teas, or the nicest incense. He tells me of the magic items we pass by, rings and bracers and boots. 

Gregory leads me past another stall full of glass vials filled with various liquids. "So, how'd you get picked up by the living shadow?"

I flush. "I sacrificed my best goat, and uh, he brought me here." He doesn't need to know the details. 

Gregory gives me a wary look as he steers me to a stall of fabric closer to the cotton I'm used to. "You asked to come here and he brought you?"

I examine that stall, and the next that's full of colorful fruit. "Not exactly. My home was falling apart, I had no food. He saved me."

Gregory whistles low, impressed. "That's an awful big change for someone you can't look at."

My face scrunches in confusion. And at my silence, Gregory's eyes narrow. 

"How?" he asks, incredulous. "How do you push past the fear?"

"He's not that frightening." He's a little awkward and very entitled, but not frightening.

Gregory continues to stare at me, mouth parted, eyes narrowed, puzzling something out in my face, until something clicks into place.

"You don't experience it," he says, voice filled with awe. 

Again, my face scrunches in confusion. 

Gregory pushes air through his lips. "It's…" His face twists in concentration, lower lip pushed out. "Blithe explained it to me once, something to do with the lord's magic, or his aura, something like that. Can't look at his face. Even the animals abide by it. Looking at him at all--have you ever jumped off a high place? That feeling of falling? It feels like that. You get cold, and you want to run as far away as possible. The highest I ever got was halfway before I started crying. You don't feel that?"

I shake my head again. I suppose I experienced it, once, when I first laid eyes on him, but it faded quickly and was replaced with fascination. 

Gregory's eyes widen. "Wow, that's great he didn't kill you."

"Is that…what he usually does?"

He shrugs. "Never met anyone-- fae or human, who could look at him and not run away screaming." A glint comes into his eyes. "What's he look like?"

"Oh, um," I rub the back of my neck with my hand. I don't think Aurelius would like it if I revealed his face. "It changes. When he shifts forms."

"Wow," he says, sounding genuinely awed.

We both turn to the sound of wood shattering followed by shouting and a few cut off screams. Something is storming through the stalls, throwing debris in the air and making shoppers run away screaming. And it's coming straight for us. 

Gregory chuckles and releases my arm. "Ah, there he is."

He's ripped away from me in a flash, and tackled to the ground by a dark figure in a familiar shadowed cloak. 

Gregory holds up his hands and stutters. "E-Easy, your grace! I was just--"

"You think you can speak to me," Aurelius says, jaw parted and dripping with saliva. He's back to his usual size, his skull sharp and dangerous. The crowd parts for us, everyone looking away, and I don't know what makes me more uncomfortable. The thought of their stares, or acting as if we don't exist. 

Gregory continues to stammer excuses, and Aurelius' maw only opens as is to bite him. 

"Stop it!" I shout, pushing on Aureius' arm. "Stop it right now!"

And, through some miracle, his great head turns to me, angular and fox-like, and lowers down to my level.

"He stole you."

"I walked away!" I don't know why I'm defending Gregory. Maybe because he's the only human I've met here, maybe because it helps me feel like a person again.

"I told you to stay put."

"And I'm not a dog!"

The head snaps back to Gregory, looming over him. "You'll do well to remember your place." 

Aurelius climbs off of Gregory and towards me. Gregory scrambles away on all fours and into the crowd, just as Aurelius' head fills my view. 

"We are leaving," he says, reaching out one long hand and dissolving us into the ground. 

Darkness surrounds me and I'm back in the storm. The winds are angry, whipping about my face and hair, and there's thunder rolling overhead. 

But in an instant we're dumped underneath the house, and I start to dry heave. I haven't eaten since this morning so thankfully nothing comes up, and I feel Aurelius' hand steady over my back. He waits until I stand up to walk up the staircase, saying nothing. 

We enter and he's quiet on the stairs, silent through the winding rooms and twisting halls. My heart still thrums away in my chest, though not from the exertion. He's angry with me, and I'm unsure of what that means. Arguments simmer in my blood, waiting to burst forth at the smallest chance. He ordered me to stay, and I disobeyed, but I'm not an animal. I won't just do as he says because he orders it. 

He shows me to the library, and we step inside. My nervousness is at it's peak, and I fiddle with my hands as I step towards the center of the room. 

"Aurelius, I--" 

"No." he hold up a hand. "Do not speak. Unless you're going to apologize." 

My jaw drops. "Apologize?!" 

"Yes." He crosses his arms. "For disobeying me." 

I throw my bag to the ground. "You're crazy!" 

"I'm trying to keep you safe." 

"From my own people?!" 

In an instant I'm on my back, Aurelius' claws holding down my arms. He looms over me like he did Gregory, face close to mine, his aura weighing down the atmosphere and pressing against my skin. 

"Do you understand what could have happened to you?"

And at that, my anger boils over. "No! Because you don't tell me anything! You leave me here, alone, with no explanation!" 

I don't care if he's got me pinned down, if standing up for myself is what keeps me from being eaten up by this plane, then Aurelius is no exception. My heart thrums away in my chest, telling me to run. But part of me wants him to chase me. 

"I told you not to worry about that," he snaps. His hands on my arms tighten, not enough to cut into skin, but enough to threaten it, and I stutter. I like him above me like this. I like when he growls and threatens me. Not other people, but me. 

"Don't tell me what to worry about," I fire back, and he growls again, the sound shooting directly to my loins. 

"You are mine," he says. "You are not leaving." 

My heart beats in agreement, wetness between my legs, and I squeeze my thighs together to avoid the fact that I want him to touch me. The fight only excites me, spurs me on to anger him more. "You can't stop me!" 

At first I believe he growls again, but it's choppy uneven, and I realize he's laughing. It's a dark sound, it shakes the house, tosses books off the shelves and rattles the windows. It has fear and arousal twisting inside my gut like snakes, and overwhelming my anger is a deep, powerful need. My pussy feels empty, hot and empty, and I need him to fill it. 

"You have no idea what I can do," he says, leaning down to press his snout to my belly and dragging a long inhale. 

Aurelius rolls me over, pulling me back on my knees and pressing my head to the ground with one hand. He flips my dress-- which is actually his shirt-- around my waist and drags a heavy fingertip through the slick between my thighs. 

"I could smell this through my own clothing," he hums, giving me no warning before breaching my pussy with one large finger. The sensation of him rubbing the inside makes me moan aloud, and my hands scramble at the floorboards trying to find purchase. 

His claw digs into my skin as he adds another finger. "Stay."

The stretch burns, but resolves quickly. It's not enough and I groan, pushing my hips back to take him deeper into me. I want to hurt. "Make me!" 

After he removes his fingers I make a show of attempting to crawl away, only for him to pull me back by the hips with one hand. I yelp, "Let me go!" as I scratch at the ground again, but his hand stays firm as he lines up his cock with my pussy and he pushes up to the hilt in one swift movement. 

It burns, I wasn't ready. But gods does it feel good. I groan aloud at how full I feel, how he's splitting me apart. The hand on my hip tenses up, the other trailing up my spine and twisting in my hair, pulling at my scalp. Aurelius leans forward, his voice low,twisting my head to the side to growl in my ear. "You ran from me." 

He pulls out and thrusts in hard, ripping a groan from my mouth. His cock feels bigger than I remember, and this angle has it hitting different spots in me, making lights go off behind my closed eyes. I grunt as he starts at a punishing pace, the sounds of his hips hitting my skin echoing through the room. 

"Yeah, I did!" I bite out, gasping as he adjusts his grip and my nipples drag along the smooth floor. "And I'll do it again!" 

The burn fades, leaving raw, unfiltered sensation that shoots up my back. I want to reach back and grab at him, not to push away but to dig my nails into his skin. Pleasure so intense I didn't think was possible reaches from the tips of my toes to the hair currently twists in his grasp. 

His growl shakes the house, a warning and damnation all in one, but I don't care. Anything to get him to do this to me. 

"You belong to me," he says, punctuating his statement with a hard thrust. The floorboards slide against my cheek and a groan rasps out of my throat in place of a response. The claws around my waist and tangled in my hair are a clear signal to obey that some deep part of me wants to rail against. No one can tell me what to do, not after I finally found my voice. 

Aurelius sits up, the cold air against my skin making me break out in goosebumps. "I will keep you here, forever," he says, almost reverently, in complete contrast to the snap of his hips against my bare ass. 

"Liar," I hiss, and he speeds his thrusts and brushes a place in me that makes me squeak. This is just what I needed, a chance to forget, to pretend. My pussy aches, empty each time he pulls back, and filled to the brim when he thrusts in. I'm sucked into the back and forth, the current of sensation dripping down my spine and lighting my body on fire. I feel alive.

Somehow I mange to respond. "I'd find a way to go." 

And I know-- I know I don't want to leave. Deep down, I don't see myself anywhere else. I really do want to stay here live in this eternal summer full of magic, with a god who cares for me in his own, odd ways. But the truth doesn't get my face pushed into the floor. 

He leans back over me. "I will lock you up in our home until you learn your lesson."

A laugh bubbles up in my chest, filling my mouth until it bursts forth, and I'm cackling like a woman gone mad. A lesson? What lesson? That I'm stuck with him forever, that I can't leave? I already know! I laugh harder, and I swear it shakes the books on the shelves.

Aurelius licks my ear, shifting his hips to hit me deep. "Do you not fear me? Do you want to incur the wrath of a god?

I open my mouth to scream Yes, when my pleasure peaks and my orgasm hits me like a blow to the face.

My back arches and my toes curl as lines of feeling overload my senses. Aurelius barks a short roar in my ear and his cock twitches, spilling inside me. His hands tighten, claws breaking the skin above my hip and twisting strands out of my hair. 

I am living. I feel like I'm here for a reason now, and not brought to be a pet. I wouldn't mind being some form of bedslave if it gave me something to do. If this could be my every day, I'd gladly accept it.

With barely enough time to collect myself, Aurelius is pulling out of me and leaving me on the floor. He lifts me up from the waist and sets me on shaking feet. I turn around to face him, and I see that every item we found at the market is piled on the floor. 

This is where he was sending everything. Of course. 

Aurelius stands upright, the same face I've come to think of as my favorite on display. Reaching out a hand, he smooths down my hair, more patting it than stroking, and then down to cup my face.

"I…" he starts to say. 

But I rub at the mark no doubt on my cheek, attempting to turn my eyes as far to the side as they'll reach in an attempt to view my own face. Aurelius sees something in my expression, and his hand leaves me. He backs away, without a word, melting into the floor until even his antlers are gone. 

He's left me in the room alone. 

I should hope this earns me the right to be upset at him, because I bloody-well am! He left without a goodbye, or a thank you, or even apologizing--! 

I plant my hands on my hips, and look at the mess of items he left here for me. At least I have something to do now.

The first Triangle had taken his time. Made sure you were excited enough to effortlessly accept two cocks. Not at once. He would have loved to see you double stuffed. But his less experienced coworker had snuck inside you before he could bring it up. Rude. Still, it was fun to see a pretty girl’s face contort as she playfully pretended to struggle to accommodate the girth.  

If the other players knew you were getting preferential treatment, or thought you were a plant, things might get messy. He glanced at your thighs, which had already been coated with cum when they led you to the hallway. Were you sleeping with another player? Other players? Nice.

You were perfect at taking dick. One after another, the first Triangle thought. Perfect at taking him after other players, after his coworker. You panted, tongue out, face pressed against the pastel wall by a black glove. When he was alone in his cell, he’d probably cum again, mask off, inhaling your sweat off of it. Instead of licking the slick right off his fingers. 

The black gloves weren’t terribly comfortable in or around your openings, but raw fingering was A-OK. Not that you were in any position to tell the Guards what to do. 

Outside of work, the first Triangle usually preferred full nudity. Both his own and his partners’. During the games was different. He wasn’t risking you seeing any bare skin. If you wanted to flick your pebble, it made no difference to him. You got so wet just anticipating a threesome. If you didn’t, he’d have used the discreet vibrator you wore on a necklace, concealed under your shirt. He’d felt it while groping you, testing your compliance. Lifting it out of your cleavage, he gently dropped the pendant over the green ___ printed on the white cotton. Not even needing to tilt his head to get you to understand he knew what it really was. 

Sometimes players smuggled stuff in. This was new, though. Dirty girl. 

Way better use of a necklace than a pill case, you mentally huffed while the Pink Guard examined the accessory. 

Lucky for you, the other Triangle was happy to stroke at your clit with his pinkie. If you’d looked down, the sight of a partner desperate to please would have ushered you into the first orgasm. (Of the session, not the day.) Climaxing onto his twitching digits. Glossy goo sleeping all the way down his warm palm to his wrist. If he’d been more experienced, he might have realized you were ovulating.

Not that it mattered if you got knocked up. Just two more games to go. Even if you won, you wouldn’t have time to balloon up like 222. His more experienced coworker, who’d had a vasectomy, didn’t bother mentioning being snipped. You were an all round risk taker. A taker in general, judging from the way you used other players sexually and took more and more fingers than he’d seen anyone take in their cunt before. So wet. So slippery. 

Because the thought of you bringing your own vibe to the island, making use of it while hidden away on one of the top bunks, your little gasps attracting the attention of a bunkmate…! Maybe he says something to the guy below him. Next thing you know, the faux-phallus is supplemented with real dick. It looked like the previous guy’s semen was cleaned out, but spilled onto your thighs. Or someone pulled out and finished on them. The thought of that likely scenario made him blow his load, bucking his hips against your plush ass. Ramming into your grip, any lingering concern over your comfort had melted away.

This guy was gonna bust soon. You could tell. 

Second Triangle’s cockhead was peeking out, eager to reintroduce itself after a break. It was bad enough he couldn’t kiss your pretty pussy quite yet, or at least lick up the mystery jizz. He had to withdraw his fingers and back up as his fellow guard shuddered into you. Lest your crotch bump into his mask. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled, promptly straightening up as the soft cock slipped out. His hands had migrated to your biceps. You let your cheek rest against the cool wall. Then you crossed legs. Futilely holding their mixed cum inside. 

“I don’t feel like waddling to the bathroom right now,” you whined. “Can one of you eat me out?”

They looked at each other. 

It wasn’t like the second Triangle’s reputation really mattered here, and he had just fantasized about licking up someone else’s semen. (Off the thighs of a hot babe, but still.) His own, though?

As they both stood before you, a sigh escaped your lips. “Quit eyefucking each other and do rock, paper, scissors or something.” 

It really wasn’t your place to tell the Guards what to do. Yet the first guy made a fist and rested it on his palm, ready to throw. Post nut clarity should have warned him not to. Just let go of your arms and- When would he get this opportunity again?

“What are you two doing?” 

They stared past you, while you had to swivel your head to see who it was. A Square. He wasn’t addressing you, maybe because he didn’t expect you to behave any differently. Cameras were everywhere, after all. Frustrated, you stuck your pendant into your mouth. At this rate, the battery would be used up before you won. Not that this Square probably knew that, let alone what it was. 

He addressed his underlings. “Removing masks would result in immediate termination.” 

The three of you stood facing him. Arms hanging at your sides. Unsure how to proceed. Nobody spoke. Then the Square Guard took up his walkie talkie. 

“What-?” you started.

“Either we get a disposable Circle, or Player ___ comes with me.”

The two Triangles watched as you pulled up first your panties, then your track pants. And chose the second option.