#widowed reader

The looks from your family, your friends and colleagues, not to mention the staff in the intensive care unit, were heavy and knowing. Doubt lingered when they thought you weren’t paying attention, closely followed by pity when they realized you were.

You hadn’t asked for this. Mother and widow in a week flat.

That must have been a record somewhere.

You entered the dim room and greeted the nurse with a weary smile; she knew you by heart. Everything was as you left it from yesterday. Tubes and cups and valves clean, ready to be used. You lived hour to hour, the rhythmic suction a beat that perhaps matched the one the Abyss-corrupted followed when they tore your husband from you in Nod Krai a month prior.

For every second you hated pumping, you were thankful you could at least give them your nutrients. Milk was the only thing you could offer other than your voice and a gentle touch through a small porthole. You settled in, closing the curtain and strapping yourself to the cold cups. At least this model was a little more discreet and you could put your blouse back on while you adjusted the pump. It was sturdier, thankfully, than your old IV pole from what felt like a lifetime ago.

Some time later, after you’d bottled and labeled your output and you’d read aloud despite knowing the isolette muffled your voice, the wave hit. You stared at your child, their belly heaving, reality slapping you as you thought and yearned of before. Would they look like him? Have his mannerisms? What if you’d decided against this?

At least here they were taken care of.

Home was another story where a sink full of dishes sat waiting and you’d set out a second up of coffee that had gone cold hours ago.

It wasn’t possible. You shouldn’t have done this, knowing what you knew now. How alone you were. How you ached to have what you wouldn’t again.

“Ah, I thought perhaps I might finally find you.”

In the fog of it all, you barely registered the voice. Authoritative, prideful, and one you heard exactly once before. You blinked and pulled yourself out of the heavy thoughts long enough to register the glowing bird’s head and dangling ornamentation that marked the Second Harbinger.

Somewhere in the well-worn exhaustion, confusion and anger stirred in your gut. What did he want? Were you to lose your children too, after all of this? As a spouse of a serving Fatuus, and native to the land of Cryo, you knew the well-spread rumors about the Second, how children were terrified of ending up under his eye.

Out of habit, you went to rise, only to be met with a hand held up to halt you in your tracks.

“Not necessary. I am aware of your husband’s sacrifice and only came to inform you that I owe him a debt. Without his actions, we would have lost all footholds in Nod Krai.”

He approached the isolette with the focus of the wolves that roamed the tundras and the curiosity of the ravens that followed them. Il Dottore was not one for sentimentality but you instantly recognized the gesture, a quid pro quo that you were certain his business partner and fellow Harbinger had assisted with.

“I see,” you replied. “Thank you, my lord. I hope this trip wasn’t far out of the way for you.”

“Hardly.”

A moment passed and then another. A bradycardia, and then a desaturation. They resolved themselves within a few seconds and your child made a sound, something between a moan and a squeak.

“Remarkably unremarkable,” said the Harbinger, his conclusion succinct. When you didn’t respond, he clarified further after he stood straight and pulled his hands behind his back. “It is a good thing, in this case, to be so boring and predictable. They’ll be fine, in time. Prematurity poses challenges but nothing that doesn’t sort itself out with patience.”

The corner of your mouth twitched. Nothing about this felt boring, you wanted to toss back. But better not to piss off the Harbinger known to push the boundaries on every bit of knowledge he could get.

“Whatever is running through your mind is also entirely unremarkable. Quite normal, in fact.”

You scoffed and settled back in your chair as another machine beeped in a different part of the room. “What gave it away?”

“I have seen that look on the faces of those who know their fate is sealed and yet they yearn to change it. It is enough to drive the average person to violence towards others or themselves. Or to simply vanish one day and leave it all behind for something different,” Dottore replied, his focus entirely on you. “Postpartum is well documented. If your husband were here, I am certain he would feel similarly. I have been told he was the empathetic of his squadron, the one who put the future first.”

You nodded numbly, remembering his face the day you told him about the baby. Immediately, he’d begun to plan and future-proof decisions, even finding old books of his to set aside for them.

Il Dottore reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, sealed with his mark, a bird with a mechanical eye.

“Should you ever require anything for the child, you need only ask. Another might say that equivalent exchange is only fair in matters of money but it is the loss of potential that stings the most, in my opinion.

You took the extended envelope and ran its edge between your nails.

“No one will look out for the child except for you. You are entitled to benefits as the wife of a soldier.”

The silent words spoke volumes. No one else would look after the child the way you would, the way you wanted to.

You would be okay. In time. Perhaps not healed but changed, prepared for different challenges.

“Thank you for your time, my lord,” you said simply.

The Harbinger bowed just enough to be polite and left without another word, his footfalls echoing throughout the ward.

Your child stirred and you set aside the letter to wash your hands before opening the porthole to hold their tiny fingers.

You will look into the face of passersby.

Your mind went blank after Arthur's death, and ever since that day, you've been aimlessly wandering from city, how long has it been after his death? You barely know what time it is, you just knew it was around the afternoon since the sun refused to set yet. You've been thirsting for revenge, you've longed for the death of Micah and Dutch after they were the sole reason for the gang to fall out like that. But was it really worth it? You'd tell yourself, yes of course it is. But in the end, it brings no one back. It doesn't bring Susan back, or Lenny, or Hosea, or Arthur. Your beloved, Arthur.

The annoying yet hard working cowboy you've come to love from the very core of your heart. The cocky bastard who'd make fun of your sardonic personality, but essentially admiring your confidence and enthusiasm.

— hoping for something that will, for an instant..

You believed that somehow, in some miracle magic, that he came back to you. That he survived his attack, that he made it out alive and is just waiting for you somewhere safe and sound. Somewhere warm, where you'd picture him peacefully drinking a cup of coffee as he sat on the rocking chair by a fireplace. But each time you looked into the eyes of a stranger or when you stopped to take a good look at someone, it wasn't him. He never returned. He will never return. You just couldn't accept it.

Bring me back to you.

You couldn't believe how incredibly lonely you felt each night you spent on your own, you couldn't even get to prepare your camping correctly because of how your hands were shaking in nothing but pure emotional agony, you were devoid of all comfort and joy. The only time you felt some kind of positive emotion was when John invited you to his wedding with Abigail for celebration, but you couldn't help and think to yourself: if he had more time, would we be married? Would we be dancing the way John sways with Abigail? Would we share our drinks and taste each other's food?

The lack of noises, the sounds of the crickets and animals of all species ruffling and jumping around your area were the only noises that filled that aching silence. Not the sound of laughter, or bottles clinking, or Javier's songs with the melody of his guitar in the back as he sang.

You will find moonlight nights strangely empty because..

And each time you'd think about Arthur, his name escaped your quivering lips, dry from how you've been dehydrating yourself and concealed any type of self-care treatment. You were miserable, beat up like an old dog. You wanted him back.

"Arthur."

Your voice echoed in the empty valleys that you've been camping in for quite a while. But nothing made you cry more than the awful silence of your environment, and it only made you bring your knees up to your face, embracing your legs with your arms as you dug your head in between them.

Passersby would've heard your sobs and sniffles, but you made sure you were quiet enough not to be spotted by anyone.

When you call my name through them, there will be no answer.

You missed the way he touched you so lovingly, as if you were his world, and all his care bestowed upon you made you feel special than any person in this god forsaken country. The idea of his cuddles would put your throbbing heart at ease as you thought about it, the way his muscular arms would keep you warm the way the campfire would make you melt like a puddle of lava. You missed how he'd teasingly press his lips against yours as a hum resonated through your intimacy, or how he'd land a few pecks on the nape of your neck before eventually leaving in the intention of gaining money, whether it'd be through bounty hunting, debt collecting or robbery. You didn't mind his wrong-doings, to you he was a good man.

He was a good man because he loved you like you were the only woman in the world, and he stared at you with those beautiful blue eyes of his, admiring your beauty and smile. He was a good man, because all he's ever known is the life of an outlaw and his gang, he was simply the consequence of growing up in a bad environment. He wasn't perfect, but he was the perfect amount of imperfect. And when he made you understand that you'd certainly be doing a mistake loving all over him, a little voice in your told you he may not be wrong. And he wasn't wrong. Not because of the way he treated you, but because he's plaguing your mind and thoughts like a disease. He's spreading all over you to the point where you'd feel body tense and your fingers getting numb.

He's the cowboy you love, oh so much.

Always your heart will be aching for me.

And while you've been traveling with no objectives or not purpose, you could only reminisce about those long roads you and Arthur had taken together. Then, you think about the time he told you to leave him while he would've been on his own against a bunch of your enemies.

He knew the outcome if you swooped in, trying to be heroic. He'd lost so much, he didn't want to lose you, and for his sake, you only ran because he told you to.

He told you to go and don't look back, yet you keep making the grievous mistake of always looking back, in hopes of seeing him. You can't stop looking back, because that's all you know. You only know how to remember and miss, you only relied on Arthur because he taught you everything you know, and now that you're left without guidance or a voice of reason, what else can you provide? How useful are you, now?

He's been reassuring you that you could be a use for something, and he kept including you in missions although you weren't a part of Dutch's plan, and now that he's gone, what are you? A sad widow?

And yet you still convince yourself that it was the right thing to do, because that's what Arthur wants you to think. That you did the right thing.

It was on one of these visits that you couldn’t contain your own needs anymore. Not like you were oblivious to the line of work he partook in. You knew he worked at The House of Tea and Jam. The house was well visited by various patrons. The reputation had spread far from the city where it was located. Fully respected on how they treated their employees as well how they maintained the anonymity of their patrons. 

As the dinner came to an end, unable to just let Jefferson know what was on your mind. “Jefferson, will you please stay for a nightcap?”

Being able to see how his gaze softened at the plea. His eyes seem to shimmer with something. But unable to pinpoint it. Then he spoke. “Hmm, does the white rabbit want to break the social rules by keeping me in her home past a decent hour?” 

At the tone of his voice the feeling of heat that has been long gone from your skin erupted. Like if lit by an inner fire that was long forgotten. As if on cue with the fire suddenly the ability to form proper thoughts went out the window. So, as the both of you sat just gazing at one another.

Once your mind was free of the haze of tension that had filled the room you spoke. “Yes, just for a moment I have something I would like to ask you.”

The smirk that he tried to contain played across his lips. Without breaking eye contact he nodded slowly. They both rose from the table and walked to the sitting room where the stocked bar was. Going directly to the bar taking out the top shelf whiskey you poured two separate servings. Walking his glass over to him. Only once the amber color liquid filled you with a different heat did the courage finally come to ask him.

“I asked you to stay because I have a favor to ask of you.” Taking a moment to gather the racing thoughts in your head. Half of them chastise you for what you are about to ask. “I would like for you to introduce me to the Tea House.”

Watching how his aloof manner of sitting changed to full attention then how the blue of his eyes become nothing but a thin rim. How the muscles he had hidden under the fabric of his shirt strained the material. The fibers of the shirt had to beg to stay together. That is when he spoke just above a whisper. 

“Are you asking me little white rabbit to lead you down the path that there may not be a return from? Wanting me to show you down the winding road that may prove to be your downfall or salvation?”

Too focused on how he spoke, not precisely his words. All that you were able to do was answer his questions. Knowing that going back to how things have been these two years was not possible anymore. The yearning that was all consuming wouldn’t allow you to back down.

“Yes Jefferson. I can’t take it anymore, the emptiness, the yearning to feel something or someone. The burning of my skin that can’t seem to be quelled with anything anymore.”  

That was all Jefferson needed to hear. In that instant he came to your side kneeling as he took your hands in his. Taking the moment just to enjoy the feeling of his skin next to yours.

“Ok I will take you. Will you allow me to choose who you will meet with my white rabbit? You trusted me once and you lived a happy life while it lasted.”

Memories came to the surface of fond ones that brought nothing but happiness. That is all that was needed.

“Yes, choose who you think would be the best fit for me.”

Tension filled the room. As Jefferson contemplated you. Waiting for him to say or do something. Feeling of the heat comes to the surface again. He stood then walked across the room to the hallway giving you his iconic smile.

“I will come for you tomorrow White Rabbit. Wear something that you have not worn outside before.”

With that he bowed and walked out of your home.

Upon finally awaking the nerves snuck in. The weight of what was said and occurred last night. Feeling as if everything was pressing into your bones threatening to pulverize them. Mind racing trying to find a way out of the situation. That’s when the pain and longing came in as if a tidal wave. Leaving your mind in a haze. The need, longing, and desire came in waves. Each one stronger than the last.

Taking the opportunity to take your time you decided to eat slowly enjoying the day. Lounging like a cat for the day stretching and soaking the sun.

As the day slowly turned to evening making way to prepare for the night’s events. After primping to the best of your ability without going heavy handed. Walking into the walk-in closet. The plush carpet is soft between your toes. The hues of pinks and gold filtered from the lights above. The feeling of cotton, suede, velvet, satin, then to their destination silk. It was a royal blue spaghetti strap dress that seemed so straight and ill-fitting on the hanger. Would lay perfectly across your curves. The feeling of the best description of an extra layer of skin that was creamy soft. It was the perfect length for stopping right in the middle of the thigh. Just as you were slipping on the skin-colored silk stockings a knock sounded at the door, one that felt as if it hit against your rib cage. Slipping your shoes on your dark blue high heels as the main door opened.

Jefferson strolled in. No this wasn’t your Jefferson. This was The Mad Hatter of Lady Marmalade’s official concierge and all-around guide into different worlds of pleasure.

Having to take a moment to take him in. His blue eyes were all taken over by something different. There is a hunger there that you have never seen. It causes the hair in the back of your neck to stand on end. Like if your body knew before your brain how you are the white rabbit going into the wolf's lair.

Sashaying painstakingly slow to your mind's liking.  Every step closer the more your body reacted to his presents. The fear of getting too close to be devoured was ever present.  But the dread of never feeling anything but pain and longing was more. Driving a steady gait.

“Why don’t you look like a delectable white rabbit. Do a small turn for me please.”

The way your abdomen bloomed with butterflies at the tone of his voice and words. It allowed for complicity, and you turned slowly.

“Utter perfection. Are you ready for a night you won't ever forget?”

The question had you stumbling with your nerves. Which caused him to cross the threshold dropping the persona becoming your Jefferson. When did he become that? His warm arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you into his chest. 

“It is ok. I understand if you would like to just stay home”

Your blood rushed into your ears making everything muddled. But his voice and words rang through slicing everything. As your eyes met his blue ones. Noticing how they softened as he contemplated you. In that moment the courage and need in your body came back.

“No, I told you I wanted this. I meant it Jefferson. Please, I need this.”

Kissing your temple, he murmured over it.

“Just feel and follow. Let all rationality here and follow me white rabbit to wonderland.”

In that moment the tension and worry was like a brick wall crumbling. Whatever reservations or social construct you had went out the door. Choosing to trust the one person who has always been there and had always proven to want was best for you.

Climbing into his car the drive was lost on you a blur of lights. Stopping the car at the main entrance. Jefferson no, The Mad Hatter emerged handing his keys to the valet. Walking to your door, opening it offering his arm. Placing your hand in the crook of his arm.

Walking on the natural stone floors on the foyer. Knowing that this was indeed a wonderland she was yet to experience. You walk through a maze of rooms. Different areas that depict various scenes. Many things you have only read of or heard whispers of in hushed topics around tea.

He held onto your hand now. Passing through a crowd of people she couldn’t make out based on the masks they wore. Passing two corridors until the lights switched from light to dark with a red glow. The walls turned to what looked like velvet.

Stopping in a room that glowed in red. The stone floor illuminated until it got to the pool which looked dark. Taking you to the edge of the bed and kissing your temple. I will be here sitting over there. Turning to look at the direction of his eyes right across the room in a chair. Taking in his form as he walked to the chair the heat pooled into your stomach but along with something else nerves.

As your mouth was going to form the question that she was holding back. When the raven-haired man in this most delectable all black suit walked in. Your type in every way. Lean but muscular, defined jaw, nose and cheekbones that seemed that could cut diamonds. Then his piercing blue frost eyes. Different from The Mad Hatter steel blue who seemed to be making your skin erupt with goose bumps from just the intensity of his stare.

The stranger strolled up to you bringing your hand up to his lips gently, his soft warm lips kissed over your knuckles. The warmth traveled from your knuckles straight to your core.

“To which gods shall I thank for your creation m’lady?” 

The rasp in his voice wasn’t lost. Looking up slowly into his eyes was your undoing. What thought that was formulating to answer him left your mind in that instant.

His laugh rumbled in his chest as he kneeled by your feet. Those eyes never left yours. As if by his gaze alone he could soak up the warmth.

“Where did you find this divine woman Hatter?”

At his question the realization that Jefferson no, the Mad Hatter was still in the room. But the man in front of you blocked your view of anything that wasn’t him.

Hearing how the Hatter readjusted in the chair to stay seated but leaning closer to the scene that is playing in this very room.

“I have known her since college. She is my white rabbit. The one constant thing in my life that is still left.”

Hearing him say those words had the breath leaving your lungs as if he captured you fully while still being across the room not even looking at you or touching your skin. As if the silent acknowledgment that he is as much yours as you are his.

The stranger in front of you reached out to touch your cheek, his thumb ghosting over your lower lip as if scared to touch. As if your skin would be either salvation or doom.

“Are you sure of this then my divine goddess?”

Swallowing what seemed to be the knot in your throat.

“Yes, I am sure I trust the Hatter and his choices. May I know what to call you?”

The small smile that crept up to his features at the sound of your voice. Sweet and polite.

“I am called Loki. Do you understand what will transpire tonight here?”

Taking the time to process what truly was going to happen. Knowing that there wouldn’t be a way to turn back once you participated tonight. The change that it would cause will forever be with you. The ramifications of the strain this could put on your friendship.

“I know that I am here because I can no longer stay locked away in my home. To not feel, to not know what pleasure means anymore, to not have the touch of passion on my skin again is too much. I can no longer push forward as if I am a dead person in life.”

At that moment it was as if everything ran too fast and too slow at once. The Hatter stood and strolled to the bed. As Loki cupped your cheek pulling you closer to his level to stare into your eyes. Both reflecting a desire that was repressed. Leaning towards your ear allowing for his hot breath hitting the shell causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“Let us take care of you. Allow us to show you what you have been needing and craving to be fulfilled.”

The slow nod of your head came out so naturally. As if you knew that you needed to be at their will.  The need to be taken care of was driving you forward. Feeling comfortable with your friend and the good-looking stranger in front of you.

“Good little rabbit.”

That is when you saw the Hatter come up to the bed climbing behind you.

“Come here, rest against me. We are both going to take our time with you.”

As if your body is on its own account. Leaning back to his waiting arms. Loki stood and brought over a bowl filled with something red that you couldn’t tell just yet. On the other hand, he had a book. Not any book but one of the works of Shakespeare sonnets.

Laying back into the Hatter’s chest regulating your own breathing to relax. His fingers grazed along your neck and shoulders. Slowly going down the side of your neck as his free hand went and grabbed some of the red bits from the bowl. Bringing it to your lips gently.

“Open your lips my white rabbit.”

Your lips parted as he let a single seed pass through your heated lips. The burst of tangy sweetness flooded your mouth as you ate the seed.

“Mmm, you could have told me it was pomegranate” 

 The feeling of his warm lips against the shell of your ear was jarring.

“What fun that would have been? This is to get you to relax and allow yourself to be pampered. My little rabbit is still too tense for the activities planned.”

As the Hatter kept feeding you a seed at a time caressing your neck and shoulders. Loki had settled by your feet. Opening the book and started to read to you as his hands lazily caressed your ankles. Slowly making his way higher and higher.

Slowly falling into the bubble, they built around you. Shivering as in your relaxed state you could feel your abdomen tense at their ministrations slowly causing for your arousal to pool and dampen your panties.  The soft huffs and whimpers that couldn’t be contained in your throat gently echoed into the room.

At almost your breaking point from being teased in the calmest of ways. Simple touches slowly building your need. Lips parting to take the last seed is when Loki went into action. Moving to his knees as he took out his dagger and slowly with the flat end pressed the cool steel against your heated thigh.

The decadent gasp that slipped your lips at the contact caused Loki’s eyes to sparkle like the gems they were. Slowly dragged the dagger higher to bring it back to where it first laid on your skin. Hatter had moved his hands slowly down your arms one moment caressing the next gripping onto your wrists pulling them up together above your head. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, he tied them with white silk strips. Not tight enough to hold your hands against your will. Just to understand, to keep your hands to yourself.

Just when you were going to speak, the sound of your dress being ripped, not cut. Loki had used his dagger to remove your dress leaving you in your silk stockings and underwear. Hatter descended to capture your soft heated lips in a kiss that drew you in and made you fade into his world nothing else mattered. Only being pulled out as the need to breath caught up with the both of you

Loki’s lips descended onto your leg’s thighs higher and higher till he reached and opened your legs to kiss right in the upper most part of your thigh and groin. Just alongside your cunt. Looking up with a mischievous glint in his eyes as the Hatter swallowed your moan in his mouth. Ignoring the obvious wet patch, he continued his trajectory kissing up your body stopping across your hips to squeeze and kiss letting you feel his strength. Kissing up, pass your breasts to your neck to switch places with the Hatter.

Hatter descended the same trail Loki took up. With one exception. He took out his small scissors from his waistcoat and cut off your bra latching onto your peaked nipples relishing the feeling in his mouth and the reaction of you arching into his mouth. Pulling off to continue his path doing the same with your panties as he kisses the top of your mound. Slowly pulling your stockings down and removing your shoes.

Being naked and fully exposed for them has you dizzy with need and embarrassment as you close your legs you hear them both tsk at you.

“It isn’t fair. Hatter, Loki, you both are still in all your clothes while I am here.”

As the Hatter is pulling your legs apart is when Loki speaks.

“We both want to worship you as the goddess you are. Will you let us? We both promise you will see us soon. Just be patient darlin like the good little goddess I know you can be.”

The plea on your tongue is turned into a moan as Hatter does a slow long swipe of his tongue across your slit to tease you. As he opens your cunt to dive in. Loki kisses you sweetly like if you’re not getting eaten out by someone else. It is slow tongue and utter erotic as his long fingers and strong hands roam your body.

Hatter moves away far too soon to your liking. Coming up to kiss you so you can taste yourself on his tongue causing you to suck on his tongue to clean it. In tandem they both got up. Slowly they discarded their clothing as they conversed. Not loud enough for you to hear. But knowing they are getting their plan in place for you. 

Loki’s long fingers grip onto your thighs was your only sign that they had finished talking. In an instant your world is being turned upside down. Causing to use your bound hands to try to support yourself. The warmth of his hands traveled up your arms with such soft devotion it broke your heart. Lifting your gaze, you meet his blue ones. They are darker as if the storms have taken over. “Ok my little white rabbit. I am going to take off the binds so you can touch me and support yourself.”

The mischievous chuckle behind you reminded you of his presence. “Why little goddess are you not exquisitely wet for me.” The feeling of his gaze made your cunt clench around nothing. His hands griping and putting you into position for him. The squeak that left your throat at the feeling of his thick heat ran through your folds. Hearing his dark amused voice as he lined up. “Are you ready for me, my goddess?”