Chapter 51

AN: Next week will be a skip week, as I will be traveling.

I drew Myta to an inn I’d stayed at before. It was a humble place, with good food and comfortable beds. Nothing fancy, but everything in it was as well cared for as it was well used. Exactly how I preferred it. The owners refused to accept any payment, either for food or lodging for the night. Apparently they’d seen us in the fighting, and that was enough for them.

My vas was mobbed by the family that ran the place, especially the five children who all begged to be the one to serve us. My contributions to the battle hadn’t been nearly so visible, and so I was left in relative peace. Our dinner was a delicious stew, lamb, spiced to temper the gaminess, and served with rice to temper the spice. The meat was well marinated, falling apart in the gravy and melting in our mouths.

I watched with a small smile as Myta struggled to deal with the children. She was happy, but uncertain. She’d never been an object of adulation before. The respect of our soldiers, and even the mild hero worship of Denu, were far different that the uninhibited enthusiasm of these children. Let alone the **** gratitude of their parents. It warmed my heart to see, nearly as much as it warmed her heart to experience.

When I felt her edging into overwhelmed, I made our excuses and took her to our room. Like everything else in this place, our bedding was worn, but the aging only made our linens softer and more welcoming. I held my love close, as powerful waves of emotion flowed through her. Happiness at being accepted, delight at the bubbly joy of the children, bitterness from knowing just how cruel and thoughtless those same children could be.

The parents had hit her the hardest however, their sheer gratitude over their children’s well-being had stirred her anger at her own family. I understood it perfectly. If these parents had cared so deeply about their children’s welfare, why hadn’t hers? I held her for a little while, and the pulled out the comb I’d bought in the nameless forest outpost. It was a bit worse for wear, but still performed its function admirably.

Myta started humming, haltingly working her way through a simple tune. I combed her hair out quietly, gently working out the tangles she’d accumulated over weeks of travel and fighting. I hadn’t done this after we’d been ambushed in Nesratin, and I was regretting it now.

“Tell me what you remember of your mother.” I knew this would touch on her pain, but I’d made no more progress on uprooting the last of Myta’s soul sickness. Perhaps a push was what she needed. I wasn’t expecting the combination of warmth and bitterness.

“She didn’t stop him.” She paused for long enough that if I hadn’t been able to feel her struggle, I would have thought that was all she had to say. “My mother was the one who took care of me, loved me. But my father beat and sold me, and she didn’t stop him. Maybe he was one of those bad things for her. Something that happened to her, rather than a relationship she chose. Something she couldn’t prevent or control.”

“Perhaps.” I was afraid to lend her any certainty for that idea. “Perhaps she couldn’t control him, or didn’t know, or lacked the will to try. She may have loved you, but love doesn’t really matter, in and of itself. Love is a feeling that accomplishes nothing. It’s our choices and actions that make it meaningful. At least you know that she gave you the comfort and attention you needed when you were young.

“Do you want to find out?” I hesitated to ask the question at all, but Myta didn’t understand, so I pressed on. “When we are done here, do you want to find her? See where you stand with her?”

“I don’t know.” She whispered the words uncertainly. “You are the only family I need now, master. But knowing, understanding, it might help settle my mind. I think we lived in Ramana City though, and I know you’d prefer to stay away from him.”

“Too late for that,” I chuckled. “If we can, we’ll look for her, try to find her. If I see you father however, I’m liable to kill him.” She shivered at my tone, and I realized I’d stopped brushing her hair. I resumed, letting the dark moment pass.

“He won’t be an issue to me any longer. But thank you master.” I raised my brow at the comment, but let it lie. As I'd told Myta not that long ago, I didn’t feel **** had much value, unless it served a purpose. If we encountered the man I’d deal with him then. If not, he was trash already buried. Not worth digging up.

We stripped down, and I grabbed the cloth from a basin filled with water. It wasn’t hot, but in this heat the cool would be refreshing. I stroked it over Myta’s face and neck, letting the water and rough cloth strip away the sweat, grime, and smoke of the day. Rinsing the cloth repeatedly, I washed her back and arms, then lingered indulgently as I cleaned her chest and belly. I didn’t make the bath overly erotic, but I didn’t shy away from any curve or crease of her gray skin.

When she spread her legs and leaned against the wall, I treated her lower body with equal care. Her body aroused me as much as it ever did, but this wasn’t meant to be sexual. Well that wasn’t quite right. It was absolutely sexual, but that was the smallest aspect of it. This was about caring for my ****, connecting with my love. It was sexual, and sensual, but most importantly it was personal. A moment for us to simply be with one another. Separated from others, and from there cares of the day.

When I’d finished washing her, my vas took her turn caring for me. I hadn’t realized how deeply the smell of smoke had pervaded my senses until I found some relief from it. She washed me the same way I had washed her, carefully, sensually, but not overtly erotically. Not until I was clean, at least. Then she pushed me to sit in the bed, straddling my lap, and claiming a deep kiss.

I wrapped one arm around her waist, holding her tightly to me as my opposite hand cupped her cheek. It had been a long day, filled with stress and danger. Reveling in the simple enjoyment of her beauty was a balm. Sensing my need, she waited, letting me drink in the sight of her face. Her eyes had become so much brighter than the dull embers they’d been when we met.

Her irises shone like gold coins in the soft lamplight, dancing with flames as though reflecting them. Her hair now showed its colors at the slightest motion, a rippling waterfall of fire over her shoulders. As I stroked her head, her tresses almost seemed to stroke me back. Slipping between and around my fingers like an affectionate cat, not content to simply accept attention.

Where once her features had been sunken and sallow, now they were gracefully filled out and glowing with life. And her expression was equal parts tender and intense. As though she worried I might disappear from her grasp if she dared to blink. Or perhaps I was projecting. I certainly felt like this moment was a dream.

She made to mount me, but I wasn’t ready to let the moment go so easily. I pinned her hips in place, keeping her body pressed to mine. My hand wrapped around the nape of her neck, pulling her into another lingering kiss. When my mouth left hers, it was only so that I could pull her head to my shoulder. I bit her earlobe, hard. Hard enough that she gasped and squealed in my ear.

“Try, try to get away from me.” I growled the words in her ear, and like the good girl she was, she did as I said. Her hips wriggled as she tried to buck, her hands shoving at my shoulders. But the collar marked on her neck flared as I stole her strength, and all her efforts only ground our bodies together. Rubbing her wet sex against my now painfully hard shaft.

“No escape for you now.” I chuckled darkly, and my flame shivered like a blade of grass caught in a storm. Her struggles became even weaker, rhythmic, rubbing her pearl against my shaft. It might have been accidental at first, but soon she was stroking my entire length with her wet heat. I pulled back her head so that I could meet her eyes again, and this time my expression was deadly serious.

“You see, my flame? You can’t get away from me now. You’re mine. Unless you reject me you will never get away.”

Myta let out a sobbing laugh as she drew her hips up and away from me again, and this time I let her. She didn’t sink slowly back down, she speared herself on my cock. Her need for me having reached violent levels. Once we were joined however, she was **** to be separated, rolling her hips in slow circles rather than bouncing on my lap. Grinding against me so that we need not be separated.

Her hand slipped between us, fingers rubbing her bud as she worked herself quickly to climax. She needed the release, and her sobbing laughter soon rose again, and then changed tenor into something lighter, exultant. I was in no hurry however, and I kept her riding for a long time. By the time I finished inside her, she was shaking and exhausted. Her worries buried in contented bliss.

I cleaned us both again, enjoying my own afterglow. My worry over what would happen when Myta was restored was fading. Whatever the root of her sickness was, we had built ourselves up together. We would weather that storm the same way.