Terror, Tenderness, Trust

9th day of the 7th moon, 1162 HC

She has him pinned against the wall, her talon-like nails digging into his throat until they draw blood.

"You'd still take me like this?" Zudaeshi asks, incredulous.

"Yes, Your Radiance," Mulsae whispers through her grip.

"I don't believe you," she narrows her eyes and squeezes tighter.

"You terrify me," he gasps, shifting under her hold. "It's a thrill to be intimate with someone who terrifies me."

Her other hand rips the toggles off his tunic. She slices a circle around his heart. "I could take it out right now."

"You can," he says, sweat glistening. "And it's incredible that you keep bringing me back." His hands tremble. He presses them into the wall to steady himself.

She releases him without warning and turns away. He doesn't move. She walks behind Damion and Hanna, both kneeling, and grabs Damion's chin and yanks it upward.

"You made him your submissive pet," she snarls. "You like submission."

"You showed me another way, Your Radiance," Mulsae says, breath tight, choosing every word with care. "You awakened something I never knew."

She drops Damion's face, letting it fall. Then seizes Hanna's hair and yanks hard. Hanna yelps. "You want her," Zudaeshi spits. "A sweet little obedient pet."

"Your Radiance," Mulsae says, taking a step forward. "I could have had a submissive wife long ago. But I didn't." He lifts his hand slowly. "Only you give me what I want."

She straightens, releasing Hanna. Then strikes against Mulsae. Her arm slices sideways, a flash of power tearing through the air and across Mulsae's chest. He folds inward, staggering as blood wells and fabric falls loose.

"You lie!" She flings her other arm. The second slash crosses the first, ripping from shoulder to thigh. Mulsae crashes into the wall behind him.

"Your Radiance, I'm always honest with you," he murmurs, breath thin.

She storms up to him and slaps him hard across the face. "All males want submissive women," she growls. "You all think with your pricks." She drives her foot into his crotch. He folds, clutching himself. "You just want someone to bend over and let you fuck them!"

Her knee slams into his face. He drops, curled around himself on the floor, blood dripping through his fingers. She kicks him onto his back, bends over him and rips the remainder of the front of his pants off. She shoves back his arms and legs and straddles him. She impatiently fidgets with the cock cage and then tosses it aside.

She strokes his cock while he lays there with his hands pressed into the floor. "No male wants a female who takes what she wants." She pumps him faster. He grimaces but grows harder. "I'm left needing to take a male I want, when I want him." She lifts herself and then sinks down onto his cock.

Mulsae watches her use him, clenching the floor with his finger tips. He slides his eyes over to check on Hanna and Damion. They're kneeling, but unharmed. Damion unreadable, but Hanna looking horrified. He looks back at Zudaeshi continuing to angrily use him.

"I am the Harmonarch," she draws out the syllables, "Men should be throwing themselves at my feet. But no. No, they whimper after softness," she grinds her hips hard into him and he grimaces, "They whimper after submission."

She bounces and grits her teeth, "Men see me and shrink back," she sends a snarling gesture towards Hanna, "But her? They lined up to dance with her like she was a prize," she grabs Mulsae's chin, "I am the prize!"

"You're a prize, Your Radiance," he whispers. She growls low in her throat and slaps him across the face. "Lies. All men would rather fuck a docile little flower than kneel before a goddess."

She bends low to his face, and says lowly, "You all pretend it's about love. About connection. And you're all liars." She grinds against him, breathing harder with eyes closed. She rakes her nails down his chest as her body convulses. She pants and opens her eyes to looks down at him, "It's about power."

She stands and presses her heel into his testicles, "It has always been about power." Mulsae's eyes widen, nervous, but she relents and turns away. Mulsae doesn't move. Blood pools beneath him from the slices across his body, his eyes open and unfocused, fixed somewhere just past her.

Zudaeshi paces. "Garrick," she says, almost wistful. "Even he isn't immune. All that golden strength..." she turns and glares at Hanna, "Yet his cock stirs for a quiet little mortal mouse." She strikes Hanna across her face with the back of her hand. She takes the blow and demurely returns to her position.

Zudaeshi turns back toward Mulsae, breathing hard, chest heaving. "I offer myself to him!" She throws out one arm and clutches her heart with the other, "I will rule right beside him! Give him power, protection, immortality." Her voice pitches higher, a desperate edge cutting through the fury. "Instead he casts me aside for a girl who would bow at his feet instead of stand beside him."

She turns back to Hanna and gestures at her form, "Is that what it takes? A trembling girl in a dress made to fall off?" She yanks on the tie and the dress falls like petals from a crushed flower. Hanna shudders, the flush of humiliation burning across her cheeks, but she doesn't cover herself. She doesn't move. Just kneels, stripped bare and obedient.

Zudaeshi's mouth twists. Then colder, more venomous, "Maybe when I have him, he'll learn to see properly. Maybe he just needs help understanding where a woman's place really is."

She looks to Mulsae again, limp and silent, broken across the floor like an offering. Her eyes flicker with something unreadable behind the flame.

"All of you males may want obedience. But I'll teach you to take what I give you instead."

She turns away from them and waves a hand flippantly, "Now fuck off. I'm done with you." She marches into the bathing chamber and slams the door.

=*=

Mulsae walks into their room with as much poise as a male can whose clothes are partially sliced off him and a cock cage on display. He lets Hanna's leash fall from his hand as he sinks to his knees, hands braced on the floor. Hanna and Damion enter behind him and the door shuts with a soft snick.

After a moment's pause, Hanna walks behind Damion and unbuckles his arm restraints. Mulsae looks up at her. She hasn't done that before. She's adapting to their patterns. His breath catches. She's learning so quickly. He's proud of her, and simultaneously aching with guilt that she's had to learn at all. She should be off dancing her heart out at some festival in the human lands.

Damion rubs feeling back into his arms as he crouches down beside Mulsae, "Let's get you cleaned up, alright?" Mulsae nods and Damion helps him stand. He walks with much less poise into the bathing chamber.

Damion turns on the tub while Mulsae starts to remove his clothing remnants. Damion crosses back over and helps him peel off the ruined and bloody clothes.

"She does this a lot?" Hanna's small voice reverberates off the tiling of the quiet space. She's standing in the doorway clutching the door jam.

Mulsae glances at her and then away, "Yeah."

"And Damion helps you after?"

"Every time," Damion says quietly as he helps remove Mulsae's shoes.

"Can I help?"

Mulsae and Damion's faces whip to her. "You don't have to," Mulsae says.

She steps forward into the bathing chamber, "I want to help. We're a team, right?"

Damion twists and sits to face her, smiling warmly, "We're a team."

The two of them remove Mulsae's clothes and help him into the bath. They wash his wounds and gently clean away Her slick. Hanna shampoos his hair, and Mulsae swears she is massaging his scalp. It's nice. This is nice. He doesn't have to worry about his wounds. They're taking care of him.

"I feel like she did this because of me," Hanna says quietly as she rubs Mulsae's scalp.

"No, don't think that," Mulsae immediately says. He leans forward and turns to face her, white bubbles lathered in his hair, "She doesn't need a reason. She's been doing this to me for forty-nine years."

Hanna raises her hands to her gawking mouth, "Forty-nine years?"

Damion nods grimly, "It's always been like this. Nothing unusual happened tonight."

Hanna shifts back and sits on the floor. "You've lived this for forty-nine years," she looks up and shifts her gaze between them both, "I'm only twenty-two. That's more than twice my whole life," she whispers, "And you've lived every day of it like this." Mulsae and Damion share a glance that requires no words. She is so young.

Hanna draws up her knees and lays her arms loose around them. She stares at the tiling on the floor like it might explain something to her. "Every night?" she asks, barely above a whisper.

Mulsae blinks slowly. "I've gotten a few days off since you arrived," he murmurs, his voice thinned from exhaustion.

"Oh." She doesn't look away. Her lips are parted like she might say something else, but nothing comes out. Her breath shudders once, silent. Damion doesn't move. He watches her watch them.

Hanna lowers her head a little. "You always know it is coming. And you just... wake up and get dressed and..." she trails off and doesn't finish.

"Go on living every day," Damion continues her thought, "Even when something awful is guaranteed around the corner."

Hanna slowly leans her cheek to rest on her knee. Her voice is thin. "Forty-nine years."

The number hangs there. She doesn't say it like a question. She says it like a tombstone. Then quieter still, she doesn't mean to say it aloud at all, "I can't even imagine one." Mulsae closes his eyes. Damion does too.

"And you know tomorrow will be the same," she murmurs. "And the next day. And the day after." The silence agrees with her.

Her hand creeps out slowly, hesitant and reverent, and touches Mulsae's where it rests on the rim of the tub. She doesn't hold it. Just rests her fingers beside his.

"I didn't understand," she says, and her voice breaks. "I thought I did. But I didn't."

She blinks at the floor, eyes red.

"I thought maybe this was a bad week. A bad month. But this is just... this is just your life."

The three sit quietly and let the horror sink in.

=*=

Mulsae steps into the main room, slow and stiff. The fire flickers low, painting warm light across the room. He starts to lower himself to the stone floor, as he has every night since Hanna arrived.

"Wait—" Hanna moves quickly to his side, her hand hovering near his elbow, "Don't. Don't sleep on the floor tonight. Please."

He pauses. "The bed is your space," he says.

She clasps her hands together. "I know you both sleep on the floor so I can have it. But you're hurt. It isn't fair for me to keep it only for myself."

His mouth tightens. He remembers Damion telling him how awful it was for Mulsae to invade his space. "You should have space just for you."

"There's enough room for three." Her voice is soft, not pushy, carefully measured. "It's a large bed. And it doesn't seem right to let you lie on stone like this."

He doesn't move. I don't know where the line is. When does shared space become a violation?

Hanna wets her lips and keeps her tone light, logical. "We all share meals, and time, and conversation, and this room. Why not the bed? Especially when one of us is injured."

Mulsae glances at Damion, who gives a faint shrug and murmurs, "It's her offer."

It's okay to take up space she offers? Mulsae sends to Damion.

Yes. As long as you move slow and give it back if she wants it, Damion replies. She'll let you know. You're not taking. It's sharing.

"I just want you to be comfortable," Hanna says, quieter now. "That's all."

Mulsae studies her. She looks nervous, but she doesn't back down. He nods once. Slowly. "We can try. If it's... too much, I'll move."

Her posture softens with relief. "That's fine. Of course."

She walks over and pulls back the blanket, careful and precise. Mulsae makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits gingerly, the tension still in every line of his body.

"You can lie in the middle, if that's alright," she says, kneeling up on her side of the bed. "So both Damion and I are nearby. In case you need anything."

He doesn't respond, but he shifts over. A little. Just enough to give Damion space on the other side of him.

Hanna lays down delicately, leaving space between them. "This is just a place of rest." Damion joins them last, settling onto his side next to Mulsae.

Hanna tucks the blanket up to her collarbone and folds her hands beneath her chin. "Do you feel okay?" When no one responds, she adds, "Mulsae?"

He looks up at the ceiling. What do I feel? I just care about what she feels. Does she feel safe? I'm not invading her space, am I? I'm not overwhelming her, am I?

Hanna props herself up on her elbow. "Mulsae, are you okay?" He locks eyes with her and stiffens. Damion places a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Mulsae says at last.

Hanna furrows her brow, "I'm fine. But now I'm concerned about you."

He looks back up at the ceiling. "Don't worry about me."

"I'm worried. You were just beaten up by a powerful, magical woman. I'm worried if you're okay."

"I'm fine."

"Hanna," Damion speaks up, "Mulsae has a lot to think about. He can get lost in his thoughts sometimes, but he needs to do that work. He knows to say something when he needs help."

"Oh," she says shyly, then lies down again, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Mulsae says quickly, then proceeds slowly, "It's nice... that... you care."

First Damion. Now Hanna. Why? After everything I've done to them. How can they still care?

Damion, he sends, I don't know what to do with this. He places a hand on his heart. It's growing thick and heavy.

Damion squeezes his shoulder. Breath deep first. Mulsae takes a deep slow breath. *What are you afraid of?

Hanna being hurt. I'm terrified.

She's safe right now. At this very moment the three of us are safe and resting.

Is she safe? What if I'm hurting her right now and I don't see it.

You're not. You've been careful. You've respected her space. After that, you have to trust people to speak up when they're hurting.*

Damion would speak up when he was hurt, and Mulsae ignored it. So many times he ignored it. He brings his fingers up to his brow and rubs at it.

Damion moves his hand to cover Mulsae's heart. You're spiraling. Just breathe right now. Just simply breathe.

Mulsae scans firelight flickering along the ceiling. He lowers his hand and rests it on Damion's. Just breathe. Just breathe.

Hanna shifts again. She's readjusted herself a few times. Mulsae glances over from the corner of his eye and sees she's worrying a loose thread on the blanket.

"I know you said you'd ask for help if you wanted it, but..." she turns to face the two of them, "Something is wrong. And I want to help."

"Hanna, it's okay—" Mulsae starts, but Hanna interrupts, "Can I read for you?"

Mulsae blinks. Read to me?

"You've been reading to me and it's been so so helpful," she props herself up on her elbow, voice soft and intent, "Can I return the favor?"

He turns his head. Her thoughts are nearly tumbling into him, brimming with nervous energy. She wants to soothe herself. She's hoping he'll say yes for both their sakes.

"... Okay," Mulsae nods, "That would be helpful. Thank you."

You? Accepting help? Damion teases.

Her thoughts were practically begging me to say yes, Mulsae replies. Damion just shrugs and snuggles into Mulsae's side.

Hanna slides out of bed, grabs the book from the table, and nestles back against the pillows and headboard. "What page were you on?" she asks.

He clears his throat, "Page sixty-three."

She ruffles through the pages and stops, "Chapter seven." She beams and settles into the pillows.

Her voice is small but steady. She doesn't perform, she just reads. Calm, honest, real. Mulsae listens to the story, but only half. The other half listens to her. To the rhythm, the breath, the soft syllables lapping like waves. Her voice carries him. Damion's touch steadies him. Something deep inside him loosens.

At the end of the chapter, she yawns. "That's enough for tonight." She smiles down at them, warm and sleepy. Then leans forward and taps each of their foreheads. "Good night."

"Good night," Damion murmurs.

Mulsae blinks but feels he should join in. "Sleep well."

Hanna slips beneath the covers again, folding her hands under her cheek. Her breathing begins to slow. Mulsae watches her for a moment. She seems calm now.

He squeezes Damion's hand and glances over. Damion looks up and shrugs.

I like her.

Yeah... I like her, too.