Some snippets of the beginning of Izem and Elgar'nan's relationship.
“What is that?”
“It’s a spirit you idiot.”
“Why is it following us?”
Elgar’nan’s soldiers bickered amongst themselves regarding their regular spectator as of late. It had been several weeks now since it had shown up, and it seemed to observe them silently as they prepared one battle after the other against the Titans. He did notice it would bristle when they were in the thick of it. Magic and metal reduced the titans to dust and it was in these moments he was almost certain it was a spirit of Valour, for as soon as the fight would end it was gone, off to seek out the next battle to sate itself.
“You are Valour.” Elgar’nan stated, when he decided his patience for the spirit was at an end.
“I am. And you are Elgar’nan. The First-Born.”
“Very astute. Now leave.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Another titan had been felled, the mighty beast lay dead, and Elgar’nan was victorious. Expected. Logical. But there always seemed no end to them, and Mythal’s words rang in his head.
We cannot keep doing this forever Elgar’nan. More of our cities fall and no amount of slain titans will remove the fact that our people are tired of this war, we must seek out Wisdom.
“You are majestic.”
Elgar’nan was dislodging his sword from a titan’s fist when he heard the familiar echoed voice. He turns and sees Valour, it gives an iridescent glow to its being. It was excited, happy. He gives a curt grumble, acknowledging him.
“You come here just to state the obvious.”
“This must be why they follow you, it must be. Your skill and prowess in battle is worthy of their admiration.”
“But of course.”
“Their skill is abhorrent.”
Elgar’nan recalls the way most of his men trembled at the sight of the Titan, it was the largest they had seen so far, even by his standard.
“Not everyone can be me,” Elgar’nan grins.
“No one can be you, you are…”
There is a pause as the spirit is given time to find the words.
“Resplendant.”
“You know,” Elgar’nan begins. “I think I like you. As long as you stay out of my way, you may remain.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Mythal is down but alive, barely.
All who had accompanied him to aid Sylaise and her kingdom have fallen. Elgar’nan is all that remains to end the Titan, and despite its wounds, it appears there is no sign of it coming down.
Elgar’nan holds his sword still his body rigid in it's refusal to bend or break. He has lost too much blood and he can feel himself falling and he thinks.
Not like this. I will not fall. I do not fall. I am-
Then suddenly, where once he felt on the brink of collapse a burst of energy surges through him, cast in a glow of ethereal golden light. No not through him, but his blade. He feels as if the weapon itself has come to life, it’s power flows through him. It lifts him higher and higher and then he strikes the titan. He parries and dodges every move, an overwhelming feeling settles over him.
Euphoria, the thrill of dancing on deaths edge with a skill and finesse of ages past. There is no fear, only the gallant bravery in the midst of battle.
He feels…valorous.
When the titan is dead, the light around him leaves him and it gathers together and forms in a single abstract being.
“IT IS DONE! THE BEAST HAS FALLEN! A GLORIOUS BATTLE!” Valour roars, it’s voice so joyous, so enthralled it does not see the growing anger in the man before them.
“What did you do…?”
“We Elgar’nan! We vanquished the titan!
Valour continues to soar and vibrate with unbridled joy, naive to the fury that builds and builds within Elgar'nan.
"You attempted to possess me."
"Not you, your weapon. I would not, could not possess-"
"How dare you!"
Valour freezes.
Suddenly it feels as if every drop of moisture around them is sucked away, Elgar'nan's anger slowly destroying everything in his immediate vicinity.
"You are angry with me…"
Elgar'nan points his sword towards Valour.
"I found you amusing, for that I will let you live. Now get out of my sight!"
Valour lingers, it's form quivers with shame and guilt.
"…I did not want you to die..."
"GO!"
When it seems Valour will not move, whether by stubbornness or fear, Elgar'nan does not know and does not care. But in an uncharacteristic show of goodwill he turns away and leaves.
Valour stares at the charred earth where Elgar'nan had stood.
"I did not want you to die…"
Years go by. In spite of this, Valour does not move from the scorched earth beneath them.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"First-Born…"
"Valour."
The spirit floats in place, Elgar'nan imagines if they had a body it would be shuffling awkwardly in place. The thought amuses him.
"You did not seek me out again."
"You no longer wished for my companionship."
"Only temporarily," Elgar'nan chided. "You can't take everything I say so literally Valour. Honestly…and you even remained here. Mythal has the gall to call me dramatic..."
Elgar'nan gestures for Valour to follow, when he walks a few paces and notices the spirit does not move he groans again.
"Get a move on Valour."
"You are not angry at me anymore?"
Elgar'nan rolls his eyes, dramatically shaking his head.
"No. Now come! The are more titans to crush, and I require good commentary and company."
Valour sheepishly catches up, nudging it's head between Elgar'nan's shoulder blades.
"I am sorry..."
"I know lethallen. Let us put it behind us."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Useless cowards all of them!"
"They shame the Empire."
"It is a mindless beast, how much more simple a task can slaying a titan be for these louts."
"So simple. They are warriors! This should be their calling and yet they would falter so."
Before Elgar'nan can complain further, Valour hovers before him. He can feel their incensed aura, their frustration at the soldiers under his command.
"You did what no other was brave enough to do, you took a body. You raised an Empire, and now you defend it without pause nor fear. They are unworthy to fight neither beside you or for you. You deserve better at your side."
"Someone who will remain at my side no matter the cost." Elgar'nan mutters, head tiliting ever slightly at the spirit.
"To be your Right Hand!"
"Someone who would charge into the fray in my name…without a shred of hesitation in their heart."
"Exactly Elgar'nan!"
"You."
"Yes!….Wait, what?"
Elgar'nan smiles. "You Valour. What better warrior at my side than a spirit of valour made flesh?"
Valour gives pause, and a hesitation overcomes his ethereal form.
"I-"
" I feel it in the tremble of your voice, the shivers of excitement after I slay our foes, I feel your longing…to witness and fight as I do. I can assure you it will be all the more satisfying to partake in the glory of battle in your own body."
Elgar'nan forces Valour to look at him. He will crush his doubts, here and now.
"Do you honour me?"
"Yes."
"Do you venerate me?"
"Yes."
"Are we not friends?"
"Yes."
"Then let Valour be reborn."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Elgar'nan…"
"It is alright Valour, come."
It took many days and nights to make their way to these hot springs. The moon high in the sky leaving the steaming pools to glitter like silks of starlight. Elgar'nan took his companion to the highest cliff from with the main sunpool poured into the others decorating the mountain. He pours the lyrium, hums approvingly as the water takes on an iridescent glow.
"It is ready."
Valour hovers ever so slowly towards Elgar'nan, the General's hand outstretched to urge him closer. A moment passes their mind, that soon, he will be able to hold that hand perhaps. If his General were willing. They look towards the pool.
"Elgar'nan."
"Yes lethallen."
"Were you afraid…? Before you-"
"No," Elgar'nan interjects. "I fear nothing."
"Will it hurt?"
There is a pause, a mulling over a choice of answer but Elgar'nan has made up his mind. He will not lie to him.
"Yes."
Valour takes a deep shaky breath.
"But you will be here?"
"I will be here."
There is another moment of silence, then Valour soars into the air, plunging himself into the lyrium. Elgar'nan rushes forward further into the water, right where he is taking shape, where the water grows misty and bubbles violently.
His eyes grow wide as he anxiously awaits his ascension, tight-lipped and hands tense.
Were you afraid…?
No, I fear nothing.
No, I fear-
"It is alright," Elgar'nan whispers. "Do not fight it, embrace it..."
Suddenly the water bursts, and Valour has taken form. The man before him breaks free from the water's surface and he takes a large gasping inhale of breath, as if he had been drowning. Valour begins to hyper ventilate, eyes darting frantically as he struggles to breath.
Elgar'nan wraps an arm around his shoulders, places another hand against the man's heart to ground him.
"Well done, well done! It is over."
Valour, clutches at Elgar'nan's robes, seeks out his gaze and continues to jerk and shake as he adjusts to his new form.
Elgar'nan takes in all of his newly born companion's features appreciatively. Amber eyes, sun-kissed skin and long dark brown waves. As he holds him, he can feel the magic brimming within him. So much raw, untapped physical endurance. Powerful.
"Izemrasen. Power, strength."
When Elgar'nan shifts for the briefest moment Izemrasen panics, clings tighter.
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💕 How did they both realize “oh wait, this is actually love”?
🌸 What nickname do they have for each other that would mortify them if others heard?
👑 In their relationship, who’s the king / queen & who’s the knight / advisor?
💕 How did they both realise “oh wait, this is actually love”?
They both realise it separately in their own times. For Izem, he realises what he feels for Elgar'nan is love after he attempts physical intimacy with another person (also when he realises he's demi). He isn't able to follow through with it and becomes very uncomfortable and feels a need to seek Elgar'nan out.
For Elgar'nan it is when Izem has a near miss encounter with a titan and realises the idea of Izem dying is very VERY bad outcome. I actually wrote about it here.
It doesn't help that Izem is a spirit of Valour and gets so engrossed in battle, caring little for his own safety.
🌸 What nickname do they have for each other that would mortify them if others heard?
Honestly they don't really do pet names. Their relationship is more of an open secret. So even a "Vhenan" or my love in front of others would make one or both of them dart about for witnesses haha.
Izem is often referred to as "Sun-Kissed" by others though (never in reach of Elgar'nan's ears however) both as a moniker to his skin-tone and eluding to his position as Elgar'nan's lover and favoured.
👑 In their relationship, who’s the king / queen & who’s the knight / advisor?
Oh well I think it's fairly obvious haha! Elgar'nan is certainly the King both figuratively and literally. And as his Champion Izem definitely takes the role of the Knight. And despite what a certain Rebel God would say *cough* Elgar'nan DOES heed Izem's advice every now and then.
So I've done a lot of writing this year which I am very proud of after a 5+ year absence.
But one sentence stands out because of a phrase my friends won't let me live down (will be bolded so you know which one).
For a bit of context, this involves my OC Izemrasen, Elgar'nan's Champion and emotional-support-twunk. And @elgargremlin's OC Eliovon, one of Elgar'nan's Generals who has made the unholy mistake of falling for Izem (Elgar'nan doesn't like sharing). It's been so much fun writing about these two and we are deep in this old man yaoi hell we've built for ourselves.
Anyways without further ado, under the cut for NSFW reasons:
Izem starts to bob his head back and forth, he swallows the entirety of the man's cock down his throat and repeats the motion with a whorish vigour that has the general stuttering and cursing under his breath.
The view below him has Eliovon mesmerized. Izem is singular in purpose, moaning wantonly as saliva and slick collects and drips down his chin. "By the void this is why Elgar'nan hoards you...the greedy fucking bastard."
The world was spinning, the ground vibrating with the distant stomping of a Titan that had done a number on Izemrasen. He slowly opened his eyes, vision slowly changes from a blurry mass into clarity. He seemed to be in what looked to be a cave, pieces of the ceiling crumbling with each shake of the earth.
He was resting against something hard, he would have expected it to be a rock, or the ground. But it was warm, and he felt himself rising and falling at the same frantic frequency as whatever said hardness behind him. He look down to find an armoured arm, dented and bloody as it clung to his chest, another held his head.
Izem sluggishly lifts up his own arm and inspects the battered and bruised thing, dripping red.
“Who’s blood is this…?”
“Yours you fool!”
Izem recognises the voice, and suddenly the hands cradling him are all too familiar. But they never held him so dearly as they did now. Perhaps they would give him a clasp on the back, a harsh tug against his neck to reign him into a side hug but never like this. Not with a desperate tenderness, like they did now.
“Elgar’nan...?”
“I am gladdened a titan fist to your head has not obliterated your entire brain. Be still! At least until Mythal arrives.”
Izem starts to put the pieces together to recall what had happened. Lightening. Elgar’nan’s as it danced- creating storms in the sky. The roar of the great titan as they both attempted to subdue it. He remembers the adrenaline in his blood, his first taste of battle since taking flesh. The euphoria. Then he remembers Elgar’nan, yelling at him to move, he had turned but not in time for the giant fist that swooped down against him. Then all went black.
A lazy and lucid grin stretches across Izem’s face as he inspects his battered arm.
“To finally bask in the thrill of battle first hand…what a sensation,” Izem tilts his head back to look up at Elgar’nan, who is no one near as thrilled at the memory as he is, but Izem is too far gone to notice. “Glorious.”
“There is no glory in you dying you twit!”
“Speak for yourself.” Izem chuckles.
“You will not die, not now, not ever!”
“What greater way to die than in battle, to-”
“Be silent,” Elgar’nan cuts him off, pressing his lips to Izem’s temple. He does not care for the sweat and blood that he finds there. Only clutches the warrior tighter to his chest. “You will not die today, I command it!”
Izem gently taps Elgar’nan’s hand, the one that rests on his chest. Laughs to himself at the petulance he has come to be so endeared to from the First-Born.
Izem claims another victory in Elgar'nan's name. The All-Father is pleased.
Kiss Prompt MasterList
~~~~
No one had expected the match to take this direction, but Falon'din had been preparing his latest warrior for months on end for the tournament. While Elgar'nan hosted them several times a year, there was only one in which only the very best of the best took part. All to steal the chance to face Elvhenan's greatest Champion than the All-Father claimed. Izemrasen.
Izem had felled many of Falon'Din's Champions, and each insult only fuelled his sufferance to Elgar'nan's dominion over him despite his place as one of the Evanuris.
But he was certain today that his warrior would triumph, the Lord Champion's glaive now a shattered mess upon the coliseum floor. They all expected panic, perhaps frustration, even a quick turn to look at Elgar'nan's expression showed a man with his eyes firmly fixated on the match. His brows furrowed, mouth concealed behind middle finger as his hand cradles his chin.
To all the other gods' surprise, it is not worry that seems to have overcome Elgar'nan, but curiosity. Just like him they too now wonder what will Izemrasen do next.
Izem's eyes take in the state of his now destroyed weapon before his gaze slowly rising, a large and excited grin stretching his features.
What transpires over the rest of the match is a gruesome onslaught as both Champions forgo their weapons and opt for hand-to-hand combat. It was brutal, violent, and had everyone on the edge of their seats.
The match ended in Izem's victory. The crowd in frenzy as he stood over Falon'Din's Champion. He seemed delirious, exhilrated and in a world of his own. He almost doesn't remember being guided back to his preparation rooms. The sound of the Evanuris' idle chatter in a far off distant room helps guide him back to the present.
Or perhaps it was strong eager arms grabbing him.
He hasn't even had time to clean the blood from his face as he feel the familiar draw and warmth of Elgar'nan's lips as they all but swallow him whole. Large hands clutching each side of his face as he is pressed against the wall. The passion is unsurprising, but the lack of care for the blood thatmingles and accents their kiss is different. He must have truly pleased Elgar'nan in this tournament to ellicit such a response.
"You were brilliant," Elgar'nan gasps as he finally sets his lungs free. The All-Father caresses his cheeks and scrutinises him from head to toe before looking to confirm they still had their privacy before tasting for him again.
"Please Elgar'nan, someone may come-"
Elgar'nan growls as he pulls away, the sound of laughter growing louder and draing closer. He straightens Izem's vestiges, touches him up to perfection and helps clean the blood from his face and the wrest of his exposed skin. Izem returns the care, finishing with the handing of a wine glass for Elgar'nan to remove the taste from his mouth. His humorous grimace giving way that he realises the folly from his passions, that now coats the entirety of his tongue and throat.
"Ugh, that was not yours…"
"Well no," Izem laughs, pouring him another glass.
"And you let it happen." Elgar'nan gags before downing the wine at once.
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Both Izem and Asil are OCs and my Inquisitor's parents >:3
It had been hard readjusting to life alone after spending so many years with Asil as a travelling companion. While it had been hard to receive the rejection after his confession and desire to spend the rest of his life with her, Izem had respected Asil’s wishes and let her go.
In the century since they had parted he had completed the home he had wish to build, it stood at the peak of a vast valley, not yet invaded by the shemlen that had begun to spring forth into the new world. It was quiet, peaceful, and of a milder climate, all attributes he did not care for himself, but had been taken into consideration for Asil when he had been hopeful she would join him here.
Over time more of the people began to spring forth, they were not as he was. For they were born of flesh, and aged, and died. He had lost count of how many of them he had welcomed into their world, how many he had taught and how many he held in his arms as they died.
Hahren, they called him. He wanted to laugh at the title, old indeed he was but how little they understood the weight of such a title. It was neither one he reflected or deserved. Not after the life he had lived.
"They told me I would find out here."
Izem is frozen where he stands, the axe in his hands held tightly in his grip as that all too familiar voice reaches his ears.
Every word held in a quiet measure. More a murmur than anything else, soft but low sometimes almost devoid of anything that could give way to an emotion. Never too loud but always just enough. Soothing. Gentle. Stern. Commanding without the domination.
"Gods do not be cruel to me…" Izem whispers to himself, a shaking inhale through his nose before he turns. He isn't ready for the leaping of his heart as he sees the woman standing before him.
"Asil…"
She holds her hands delicately in front of her as she slowly approaches him. The closer she gets the calmer Izem becomes, easing at her presence until she stands before him, still dwarfed by his ridiculous height.
"You cut your hair." She remarks, appraising him. The corner of her lips quirks ever so subtly as she sees him rub the back of his neck.
"It was impractical, for a life of labour."
"Yes, it would have been." She agrees, adjusting her veil.
"So…you have returned."
"Yes."
"To this place, or…to me…?"
"Both."
Asil slowly reaches for his hand that holds the axe, his grip loosens as he allows her to remove it from his grasp to fall to the ground. There is a spark of understanding in Izem's eyes, something of a mix between relief but also disappointment.
"You wished to share your life with me, just the same…"
"I did."
Izem draws closer, hands lingering at her wrists as she mirrors him in turn.
"Then why…? Why did you leave?"
"I needed to know that I could," Asil's voice falters just so, enough to give way to her true trepidations and the fear that only comes from bearing one's heart o another. "I needed to know I could say no to you."
"Dirth'en ma Vhen'an'are," Izem whispers, his hands cradling her face as his lips ghost over her own. "You are no longer a slave, and I will never cage you."
"I know that now."
Izem hesitates as his confidence falters. He hovers just above her own lips as his nerves get the better of him, a shaky huff of a laugh escaping him as Asil wraps her arms around him and she invites him to finish what has begum. Closing the space left between them for a kiss a century long overdue.
I was re-watching clips from Princess Kaguya and the vibe of the film is such fun inspiration.
There are a few OCs in this piece that do not belong to me but to my lovely friend @elgargremlin both their characters and Clan are mentioned in this fic. Context for the relationships between everyone will be added at the end of the fic
"Now boys, the family that is visiting us is of great importance. Both to our clan but also to me myself. I expect you to carry yourselves well during their stay and be an exemplary representative of Valvellan."
"Yes!" All three boys gave Eliovon a large and beaming smile as they stood at attention. Eliovon chuckles, ruffling all three of them before taking Fen's hand as they made their way.
For many years following the family tradition of both Eliovon and Fen'an heading south for the Winter, Fen would always return with many stories of her 'Baba, Mama and sister'. So joyful and ear-catching were the stories among her friends Cal, Rasa and Nathras in the clan that the boys had become quite excited when they learnt that the famed Champion of Elgar'nan had been convinced to bring his daughter and granddaughter with him on his visit this spring.
"Mirassan agreed to reduce our training for the time they're staying," Fen'an chimes in with a wide grin. Her eyes land on Caldiran and narrow accusingly before pointing a finger at him. "You have to be nice to Ramia!"
Cal folds his arms, lips pursed and huffing. "I haven't even done anything…" he grumbles, swatting away at Fen's finger to no avail.
"You will all show Ramia kindness." Eliovon commands with a soft but firm tone, bending to one knee and urging all four of the children to heed him.
"Clan Lavellan has been Ramia's home her entire life. It is a strict life but a soft one, just as the Lord Champion and his descendant intended and desired for her. She is not to be judged on the merits and expectations of Clan Valvellan, and neither will her value."
"Malanan said she was a mutt…" Rasa declares, immediatly bpwing his head when all eyes turn on him. "Said it was disgraceful and insulting for them to bring her here." Rasa mumbles. Eliovon is quick to temper his own anger, he can see the boy does not truly believe nor feel comfortable with the words he repeats from the arrogant warrior.
"And what have I told you of Malanan?"
"That he is a pathetic and whiny fool," Nathras giggles, straightening his face when Eliovon looks at him. "And that he knows less than nothing."
"Exactly. He is a scorned prospect who could not handle that he was not chosen." Eliovon sighs, "yes… Ramia is of mixed blood, but she is still Izemrasen's granddaughter, and dear to me as well. So she is to be treated accordingly, understood?"
"Yes sir." Rasa and Nathras say in unison, bowing their heads. Eliovon's eyes turn to Caldiran who mumbles a quite 'yes sir' as he stares at his feet. Fen puffs air from her nose and she gives an affirmative nod at the boys. The least tolerant of them all to any slander against her sister and best friend.
~~~~~~~
"Do you think she's tall like the Champion?" Nathras asks as they all make their way to the edge of the clan's grove.
"She IS tall, AND amazing!" Fen buts in. "I went hunting with her and she killed three wolves all by herself."
"That's not impressive, Mirassan and Malanan kill wolves all the time." Cal pipes in.
"You've never seen winters in the south Cal, the wolves are different there. Bigger, hungrier." Fen'an argues back, scoffing when Cal rolls his eyes.
Nathras stops everyone in their tracks and draws their attention ahead of them. Before them stands Izemrasen. Despite his modest wear he still carries a regal and commanding presence that has all the boys in awe as they remain still. A sentiment unshared by Fen'an as she rushes eagerly to welcome him.
Izem holds a nervous Ramia in his arms, gives Eliovon a warm and long-awaited kiss before relinquishing the young girl into Eliovon's arms as the General showers the young child with greetings and affections. Ramia wraps her arms tightly around Eliovon's neck, her eyes briefly taking in her surroundings before landing on Nathras. The boy is quick to avert his gaze when her brows furrow and her face burrows into Eliovon's neck. The faintest signs of blush dusting his cheeks.
"Are these the boys I've heard so much about?"
A smokey, husky voice breaks through like a gentle murmur through the commotion and it draws the attention of all three of the boys as the Champion's descendant is finally introduced to them.
Fen'an's words were true. Moro was tall, and also carried herself with that regality and controlled elegance alongside her father. Intricate fabrics decorated and obscured her hair, the flowers of spring and trinkets from ages past adorned like a crown upon her head. Her eyes like that of her father's, the blazing amber of Elgar'nan's blessings. A scar along her jawline the only giveaway to the fashionings of a warrior.
"Wow…" Rasa gasps quietly, his ears red.
Moro chuckles, her attention drawn to the young lady demanding her attention and her face blooms with adoration as she takes to her knees to gather Fen'an in her arms. Laughing as she prattles with a thousand things she wants to say, unrelenting even as Moro continues to laugh and press joyful kisses to her cheeks.
"Come now my love," Moro starts, taking Fen'an's hand in her own. "Introduce me to your friends."
Izemrasen - My Inquisitor Moro's father, and Elgar'nan's Champion/Love (Moro is unaware of her father's true identity until the end of Inquisition). Fen'an's secondary father-figure and mentor.
Eliovon - Belongs to @elgargremlin. One of Elgar'nan's Generals and Izem's Husband.
Rasa, Nathras & Caldiran - Belong to @elgargremlin. Members of Clan Valvellan and Fen's childhood friends.
Fen'an - Belongs to @elgargremlin. Their Rook and daughter of Eliovon. Was nursed by Moro as a baby and raised alongside Ramia as her daughter for the first few years of her life. She sees both Izem and Moro as parental figures. Ramia is her milk-sibling and best friend.
Synopsis: Eliovon must resist temptation and not fuck his lover's wife. He fails miserably.
Eliovon belongs to @elgargremlin
Eliovon was a right dirty bastard.
At least that was what he was cruelly saying to himself. This was his third winter in Hasmal with Izem and Asil. A time of year he never gave much thought to before was now one of his most cherished, and something he gladly looked forward to every year.
The rekindling of his relationship with Izem had only gotten better, great even. To have Izem in the way he had always wanted was not something he had foreseen for himself. And while in may not have played out or progressed in the way he had always imagined or wanted, he wouldn't trade it for anything.
In these last three years he had also grown close to Izem's wife, Asil. She was a woman hard to win over, but what could he expect for a woman once sworn to the god of secrets? She was an enigma, soft spoken but commanding in a way that required little effort to gain the cooperation of those around her.
Unlike Izem, Asil had the fortune that this new way of life did little to upset the balance of her nature. There was much for a spirit of duty to accomplish and do to aid the wayward and meek, she thrived in the small community that had been established here in Hasmal.
As time would pass, Asil and Eliovon would become friends in their common ground of loving Izem, the woman even giving her blessing to allow the two men to explore a more deeper and romantic connection. What more could Eliovon ask for? But as of late, something else began to stir in the general. Something that brought him shame, something that he needed to chuck to the far flung corners of his mind and put it under lock and key for no one, not even himself to think about.
It's honestly his fault, he would tell himself. Izem had decided to take his son and daughter on a small trip catching and discovering all manner of creatures by the river. It was to give Asil a breather, and to have the house to herself . A break from the children. He had asked Eliovon to join them, the children had even pleaded, but he had declined. One of his scouts was in town to deliver updates on missions within the area and he took himself into town to reconvene with them for updates. Despite it concluding earlier than expected, he opted to head straight back to the house, even though a nagging part of his brain told him he should have headed to the river to join Izem.
When he arrived it was quiet, a pot on the stove was simmering away and the scrying orb Asil had planted in the main town's tavern was playing music faintly. Other than that there was no sign of life in the house. For a moment he felt concerned till he walked past the bathing chamber, finding the curtain drawn up.
Eliovon froze at the sight.
Asil sits on a stool, naked from the waist up and wet coiled waves bunched together in an updo. His eyes trailed from her slender neck, down the curves and grooves of her back and plump hips. A tired moan leaves her lips as she pours hor water over back, and Eliovon swallows a lump in his throat. She tends to her grooming at a glacial pace, without the cries of her children or the needs of a husband and guest, she is able to turn this simple task into a luxury. Roses soaking in a tub beside her as she let's them steep and the water soaks the beautiful aromas.
Eliovon of course found Asil attractive, he wasn't blind. He was ashamed to admit however, that this was not the first time he had peeked a view of the woman bathing. On the first occasion however, Izem was there to chide him, although the champion openly encouraged Eliovon to be honest on his appreciation of his wife's beauty. The general still wasn't entirely sure what to make of that exchange, or what it may have insinuated. Either way, without Izem present, this entire situation felt all too inappropriate.
"Oh…I did not think anyone would be home yet." Her small, quiet voice echoes out to him, as she peeks over her shoulder.
She seems unperturbed by his presence, which was completely unexpected. Asil had always maintained herself to be a pious woman, in the company of most men she kept herself well-guarded and modest. Despised being gawked or leered at by anyone that wasn't Izem.
As she noticed his presence she makes no move to cover her modesty, in fact Eliovon feels almost as if she is challenging him. Daring him to pass the threshold of the chamber. He thinks he should apologise, lower his gaze and make himself scarce but his legs do not move.
"I…I should," Eliovon clears his throat, looks at a spot on the ground as she slowly rises. "Forgive me Asil, I will leave you to your privacy."
The soaked robes around her waist fall in a heap to the ground, looking at him through hooded eyes that beckon him towards her.
Shaky breathes exhale through his nose as he looks her in the eyes, dark orbs like an endless abyss ready to swallow him whole.
This is wrong he thinks. He cannot be standing here like this, devouring the bare sight of his companion's wife. Letting her tempt him to the point of no return where everything would change.
And yet, still. His legs move. But not back the way he came, no, but into the bathing chamber further. The wet steam of the air is suffocating, like her, as he comes face to face with Izem's love.
She doesn't speak. She doesn't have to. Eliovon knows immediately, intrinsically what is demanded of him as he maintains eye contact, falling to his knees before her. She stands above him and looks on Eliovon as if appraising him, judging the merit of his supplication.
She is a divine sight like this, and he thinks he finally understands why Izem would give up glory for her. Would be willing to abandon the All-Father if it meant remaining at this woman's side. Something in her presence and appeal urged for submission, with the promise of everything.
Her legs widen, and she slicks back a hair that had fallen out of place on his brow. His starved eyes now gaze at her plump cunt, and his mouth waters before he leans forward, placing a chaste kiss upon her mound. When she doesn't pull away or curse him he lays the flat of his tongue and laps at her.
She hums something between a moan and approval as he feels her hand stroke his hair, then something in him breaks and he's devouring her. Sucking and moaning into her cunt as he eats her like a man starved.
She continues to sigh blissfully and scratch at his scalp, encouraging him to delve deeper, to drive his tongue inside her and lap up her dewy arousal. His hands find their way to her hips and he marvels at how soft and pliant the skin feels beneath his rough calloused palms.
"Oh…" she coos, and just being able to elicit a minuscule of a sound from her sweet lips brings out a bestial determination. He adjusts her so her legs rest on his shoulders, thighs kissing his pointed and blushing ears and hoisting her up and against the wall. She uses her hands to brace the wall behind her for balance but it is unnecessary, Eliovon's own hands grip her hips as he groans and sucks hard and desperately at her clit. Yes repeats over and over in his head as he feels her undulate her hips to meet his mouth against her sopping cunt.
Asil grinds against Eliovon's face so vigorously he thinks he's no more than a tool for her own ends and he thinks yes, good. Let her fuck his face, let her do whatever she wants as long as he can stay buried between her thighs. He doesn't want it to end, doesn't want the cup to stop flowing. He needs this, wants this. He wants to please her, he wants her to feel good, his own cock strains painfully in his trousers, aching to be touched. But he won't come, he's not allowed to, he knows it in ever fibre of his being, feels it in the way her fingers pull at the roots of his hair , the way her thighs squeeze at his cheeks. He's not allowed to come until she has.
She squeezes him tighter one final time as she comes undone, quiet little shuddering breathes are paired with little jerks of her hips as he feels his beard soak further with her orgasm.
Once she has calmed, he lowers her gently till her feet can touch the ground, and suddenly the silence of the bathing chamber is too much to bare. Reality setting in as he realises what he has done.
Eliovon had just shoved his face into his friend and lover's wife. Behind his back. The relationship between the three of them was unorthodox certainly - at least by the current day's standards-, but Asil had never been discussed, it had never been eluded to that she was available to the general. And so a large feeling of guilt washed over Eliovon. He does not wait for her to speak, because of course she won't. He does not wait to see if her eyes hold the same shame and guilt as his. He simply makes his leave, runs out of the bathing chamber, out of the house and as far away from anyone as possible.
