Chapter 11 #5
“A bit, but my vision has come again a few times since you’ve been away and I’m sure now, it was not by your own hand. So please try not to fall on your own sword, eh?”
I laugh. “I won’t,” I say, catching how nervous Corrik is. “I know I have done nothing but berate you, I shall refrain today.”
He looks down at the floor. I have never, in my recollection, seen Corrik display anything close to submissive, but I see it now.
He’s stopped knowing how to be around me at all.
He knows what he’s doing is affecting me, but he doesn’t see another way around this.
His eyes fill with tears. “I am sorry, Tahsen.”
Oh. And he feels he’s an immense failure.
I see that now. When my parents get here, he will have to face them as the Elf who lost me to a rogue band of Elves who, for as far as anyone knew, abducted me into sexual slavery.
He doesn’t think he’ll be forgiven, and if he ever forgives himself, it will be a miracle.
Somehow this, his version of keeping me safe, makes amends for all that.
I take his hands. “I’m sorry too. I can’t say I’ll ever be happy about this, but I will learn to accept it.” Thankfully, I am doing well in my studies. All I can do now is make sure this only lasts a year and hope Corrik will relax by the time I’m an Elf. My anger doesn’t help anything.
“This means a lot to me, Tristan.”
I notice the bits of white in his hair again. Without really looking at him, they blend in with the rest of his blond hair, looking like nothing more than highlights. I reach out to pick it up. “Is this new?”
“I was wondering when you’d say something.” He smiles. “It began happening a few weeks before I found you.”
“What does it mean?”
“I think it’s my sadness.”
That breaks my heart. “But you’re not sure?”
“I’m not sure. But do not feel bad for it, my sadness is my own.”
“No. I have been nasty. There’s no excuse for it. You should have given me a lot more spankings than you have.”
He smiles. “Oh really?”
“Should have. But you didn’t. Retrospective spankings are not a thing.”
“I was not aware of that rule. I’m going to have to check the book.” We both laugh and it feels good not to be mad at him. “You did not eat your dinner.”
“I, oh. No wonder I’m so hungry.”
His laugh this time is hearty; it’s a laugh I’ve missed. “I was going to say you’re usually ruled by your stomach. Come. I shall make sure my husband is fed.”
I let him pull me by the wrist to the table where he sits me down and pushes the food in front of me.
He sits on the other side, casually, his large thighs splayed, his thick shoulders opened as wide as possible, his long hair pulled back in a half-ponytail with the rest of it hanging down his back, and his tall, Elven ears poking high and uncovered.
He’s dressed casually too, a V-neck, dark blue blouse, tucked into black pants that stop at the top of his large calves. He watches me.
“This is good. I’m starving,” I realize as I say it. “So, to what do I owe this visit? More talk of my parents?”
“No. I was hoping you’d allow me to stay the night.”
I set my fork down. “Cor, you should, regardless of my wishes.” Corrik might not be in line for the throne, but as a royal couple, we still need to display unity from within. “But, I really would like you to stay.”
“I know but, I thought just a few nights alone would be all right and do us both some good.”
“Is it true you sit outside my door for hours? That you slept there one night?”
“Diekin,” he curses. He looks up from hooded eyes. “I have.”
“Please don’t do that anymore, Corrik.”
He nods. “As you wish, Tristan. Now please, keep eating.”
“Does my eating make you feel better?” I ask, before taking a large bite.
“It does. Being able to take care of you in any way soothes me. Have you forgotten?”
I shake my head. “No, but I suppose I need to relearn what makes you feel content.”
“Please. Let me show you.”
He goes through the trouble of giving me a bath.
Another Elven perk is running water, which we did not have in every room in Markaytia.
I enjoy it though. Having him wash my hair is relaxing.
He combs it out for me afterward and even hands me one of my silk robes.
“My hair doesn’t bother you?” I say. He must be able to sense the magical essence from it and he’s smart; I’m sure he can guess whose it is. “Aren’t you angry with me?”
“No. I had a long while to process and I’m eternally grateful things weren’t as I pictured. Of course, I don’t like that it happened, but it’s better than the alternative.”
Right. I’m sure he envisioned me being raped and beaten over and over. Falling in love with an enemy Warlord is definitely a better alternative. “But it has happened, and I’m going to be honest, I still long for him.”
He nods. “Do you long for me at all?”
“Of course, I do. I missed you.” That relaxes him. He opens the bed covers for me but before I hop in, I remove my robes.
“Please don’t tease me so, Tristan. I … I want you so badly.”
And when an Elf is turned on, that craving is a need. They can barely stop themselves. I know what I’m doing. “I want you too. Come to bed properly, Husband.”
He bites his lip but doesn’t wait to be asked twice. He sheds his clothes and is on top of me with the speed Elves are known for. He attacks my lips with soft little kisses to begin with that quickly turn ravenous. “My love, my love, I’ve missed you so much,” he says.
I respond in kind, enjoying his lips, placing my hand on his large bicep and squeezing. “Do you mind if I use some magic, Tristan?” he says, panting, between kisses. “Elves don’t need lube as Markaytians do. I was being respectful that it might be weird for you.”
I don’t tell him I’m already used to magic like that, nodding instead. His fingers go to my entrance, as he whispers the spell and when he plunges them inside, I’m wet. “You will slick up here naturally when you are Elf,” he reminds me.
Fuck. His fingers feel good. I push down, trying to fuck them, moaning, writhing.
He smiles from above me as he gets his dripping cock ready to enter me.
He slides in slow, taking his time. Everything about this has a gentle feel I’m not used to with him.
Corrik’s still hesitating and I understand.
Not only is this our first time since I’ve returned, but I’m new.
He’s getting to know me again. And Corrik’s changed too; he’s letting me get to know him.
He slides in giving me time to adjust around his large member.
He starts with slow thrusts, working his way into me, not just with this cock, but with him and I feel all of his vulnerability.
He may have talked a big game, about time healing all and how we’d laugh about this blip in time in the future and how I’d eventually come to understand, but he was afraid of losing me forever.
At this moment, I discern something.
That’s the curse of being a Top—doing the things you feel are within your role to do, at the risk of your brat hating you forever. All you can do is hope that one day, they see your intent as a whole, rather than focus on how miserable they are in the moment.
A brat having respect for their Top’s role is important.
I need to do better. It doesn’t mean I have to like what he’s doing, but I can still have respect for his role which is to keep me safe; we need to be a team.
I’m getting a better sense of what’s gone on for him; his failure to protect me, the nightmare of thinking I was being abused and mistreated and risking my hatred to do what he feels will keep me safe.
All of it breaks my heart, tears begin streaming down my face.
He’s tearing up too as he continues to thrust into me, bringing us both closer to orgasm, until we fall over the edge of climax, Corrik spilling his seed into me, and me spilling onto my belly.
He pulls me into his arms after and I enjoy being surrounded by him.
“Oh D’orhai, I was so afraid. I’ve never been so afraid of anything in my life.”
“I understand now, Corrik. I don’t like it, but I understand.”
“Fair.”
We fall asleep like that; life becomes more hopeful
The next morning, we eat breakfast together, naked, as we plan for my family’s arrival, which could be at any time.
“Corrik? May I have a bow?” I get the idea suddenly. Maybe he’d feel more comfortable with that than a sword.
“Is it your mission in life to see the first Elven heart attack?”
I laugh. “No, but your vision is of me with a sword, not a bow. I am good with a bow.”
He leans back in this chair, his large cock standing upright, horny again, which is a feat. It was a long night of fucking and getting reacquainted. I have bruises. “You may have a bow. I’ll have something special made for you. Now come here. If you’re finished with that, I must have you again.”
Corrik fucks me over the table, we make a huge mess, the breakfast dishes crash everywhere.
For the first time, I think about the servant who will have to clean up this mess.
I’ve lived as a spoiled brat in some ways for most of my life.
The time as Bayaden’s manservant has given me a new perspective.
In preparation for my parents, I get dressed. It’s one thing for me to be a fucking brat for Corrik, but Father is another matter. I’m stressed about it actually, and I run about like a chicken with my head cut off. “Tristan,” Corrik says in his deep voice. “Do you need a spanking?”
Probably, but I’ll never admit it. “No. I’ll be fine, I just … how about you help me make my hair look nice? You’re just standing there.”
His eyes turn to slits before I’m thrown over his shoulder and he carts me off toward the bed. “We don’t have time for this, Corrik.”
“We have plenty of time.”