Chapter 26 #2
“I was not searching for a way to send you home. I am a greedy bastard, Pip. I would keep you here forever if you let me. I was never trying to send you back, not unless you specifically asked me to. And even then I’d have some words for you about that plan.”
His breath caught. “You would? Could you perhaps… tell me those specific words? Very clearly.”
I laughed. “I love you, Pippin Crane. You’re my resonant, and our bond is soul deep, and I want you by my side for the rest of our lives.”
He gasped softly. “Then why were you searching?”
“I was trying to understand the portal, that is all. Because it pleased my Queen to do so. Because I was worried you might be in danger. And every moment searching left me worried that I might find an answer that would send you home.”
“So why search so hard, then?”
“Because it pleased the Queen. Maybe one day she’ll tell you her story. But for now, know that she deserves a little fun.”
He beamed up at me. “I knew you were a sweetheart, making sure the Queen is happy when she feels sad. But you don’t have to worry.
Even if you did find a way for me to go home, I wouldn’t.
I want to stay,” he said, and his voice broke on the word, and I felt it in the silver like a bell struck true.
“My place is here, in this castle with its textile workshop, a horse I like to take on walks, and one very handsome commander of the Grey Guard.”
“Before you… Before we talk about marriage, I want you to understand what you’re committing to.
The resonant bond is something that lives and grows within us.
And should we allow it to become any deeper, it would bind us in more than affection for each other.
It binds our minds, our souls and our life force.
It will not be something you can walk away from easily. ”
“Life force?” Pip frowned, eyebrows squishing together as he mulled that over. “What does that mean?”
I placed a hand over his heart. “A well of magic exists in every living thing. Different cultures have different words for it, but it is the essence of life, that which allows you to be sentient and aware.”
“Oh. In my world, we have quite a few theories about that.”
He smiled, brushing a hand over my cheek. “I believe we must all be the same in some essential way, or I could not have the bond with you. But in this world, magic is a type of energy, a finite thing that keeps all of us alive.”
I nodded. “Lyriel explained that part to me. You can’t use magic too much, or it shortens your life.”
“Exactly. The resonant bond changes all of that, though. The well is shared between the pair. The life force becomes something that bonds them both.”
“Wait. Will I be able to do magical stuff now?”
I laughed. “No, but you may feel stronger, and get sick less often. And you will far outlive a normal human lifespan. We share the magic that keeps me alive for centuries.”
“Will yours be shorter then? Your life?”
“Yes.”
“Oh. But that seems so unfair!”
“I would not want to be alive without my resonant by my side. And you will be, until the day I die. Which should be at least a few centuries from now, barring—”
“Wars or accidents or sword fights?”
“—yes.”
“Then we shall have to keep the peace.” Pip laughed. It was a bright, startled, slightly wet sound, and it made every iron fitting in the stable yard ring in sympathy. “But not to worry; I have absolutely no intention of sword fighting, Aeldryc. I can’t even get on a horse.”
“It is a long time to spend with one person.”
“A long time with you sounds perfect,” he said, and the simplicity of it undid me.
I went to one knee.
Behind me, sixteen soldiers who had been specifically and explicitly ordered to leave gasped in unison. I heard armor creak as they all leaned forward. I heard Thyren whisper something to Voss. I heard the quiet, delighted intake of breath from the stable entrance where the Queen was standing.
Pip was looking down at me with his mouth open and his eyes enormous and a dahlia petal stuck to his cheek.
“Pip,” I said. “You fell into my world in the most unexpected way. And the most unexpected costume.”
“Admit it, you love the shorts,” Pip said, beaming at me.
“I… admire the way your ass looks in the shorts. And the way you stayed in a world that was not your own and refused to be anything different than exactly who you are. The way you make everything fun, and even the way you make every goddamn thing about sex.”
His hands were trembling in mine. “Very hot sex, though.”
“Very, very hot sex,” I said with a laugh.
“And no matter what happens, you come out the other side in incredible shorts and a flower crown. You have the most extraordinary joy I have ever encountered in any living creature. You make rooms brighter by entering them. You have a boldness that defies every law of self-preservation and a heart that I do not deserve and an ass that—”
Pip choked on a laugh.
“—that I find distractingly gorgeous, and I will not apologize for noticing it. Even in the shorts. Especially in the shorts.”
“Are shorts on the table for the wedding?” Pip whispered.
I glared at him. He grinned through his tears.
“Pip.” I pressed my lips to his knuckles.
The silver sang between us, high and sweet and trembling with something that felt like the beginning of the rest of everything.
“I love you. I love your chaos, your courage, your terrible jokes, and the way you look at me like I am something worth keeping. I want to keep you, too. I want to keep you for every year the bond will give us.”
I took a breath.
“Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” he said, immediately, as though he had been holding the word in his mouth and waiting for me to ask for it. “Yes. Of course. Obviously. Were you worried I’d say no? I already said yes five minutes ago. Keep up.”
I pulled him closer, and kissed him.
“So,” Pip said, muffled against my chest. “About the shorts.”
“No.”
“I think it would be a nice nod to my heritage. Oh wait, I didn’t make a speech about how awesome you are.”
“You don’t have to make a speech.”
“Shh!” He slapped a hand over my mouth and I smiled against his warm skin, kissing it.
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his speech.
“Well, now I feel put on the spot. I mean, obviously, I very much enjoy your cock. But there must be other things, too.” He tilted his head, pursing his lips. “You act all tough and stern, but—”
“I am tough and stern,” I said against his hand.
“But you’re really quite tender and sweet. You kiss away my tears. You hold me like I’m something precious. You fly into a panic and call the whole army to search for me when I go missing.”
It wasn’t the whole army, but I decided to let him have that.
“And you indulge me. You’ll do anything to make me smile, won’t you? You let me chase my passions, and pick flowers when I should be investigating things, and of course, you’ll be very in favor of shorts at our wedding, because you like nothing more than to see me happy.”
I cocked an eyebrow.
“Yes, I agree with that, too. Mm, and anything to make me come harder than I’ve ever come.
” He lowered his hand and stared into my eyes, blinking back tears.
“When we first met, I thought you were a dark, dangerous shadow daddy, but the truth? You’re mostly just a daddy, aren’t you?
And I love that about you, love the way you quietly take care of everyone around you, especially me.
I love you, Aeldryc the Ironstorm. And I can’t wait to marry you. Should we do it soon?”
“Very soon,” I murmured, cupping his chin and kissing him again. Then I took his hand and led him towards our rooms, because I very much needed to be inside him at this moment. He chattered as we walked, growing more animated by the moment.
“What do you think we should do for wedding decor? I want flowers. Obviously. Loads of flowers. And I want the trolls to come—Brogan and Davik, from the inn. Do you think the Queen would let us use the hedge maze?”
“Pip.”
“—and we need music, proper music, not the intimidating drum thing the faes do, something with a melody. And the cake, Aeldryc, the cake is important, I have opinions about cake—”
We rounded the corner, and I spotted a very nice alcove, and shoved him into it, pinning his wrists above his head with one hand. His eyes went dark and wide and his breath stuttered.
“Aeldryc—”
“Three hours,” I said, low, against his throat. My free hand found the waistband of his shorts and pulled. “Three hours, Pip. I thought you were gone. I thought I had lost you because I was too stupid to speak when it mattered, and you were in a hedge maze making flower crowns.”
“I made really good flower crowns,” he said, shoving his shorts down and kicking them aside.
I lifted him. He went willingly—arms around my neck, legs around my waist, the position as natural now as breathing.
He reached between us, moaning softly and freed me, then took the vial of oil I kept in my pocket and slicked it over me, dropping it to the ground with a clatter as I gripped his thighs, spread him open, and drove into him.
I took my time, because I wanted him to feel it—every inch of my cock, to remember that he must not disappear, because he needed this the way I needed this.
I buried my face against his throat, scraping my teeth against his skin as the tight, shaking heat of him enveloped my shaft.
His fingers dug into my shoulders, and his head fell back against the stone.
“I thought I’d lost you,” I said, and thrust deeper, and he whimpered. “I thought you were gone and I would never—”
“I’m here,” he gasped. “I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. You don’t need to panic.”
“I wasn’t panicked, just mildly alarmed.” I snapped my hips and his words became a sound that was not a word, and I did it again, and again, and the rhythm found itself the way it always did between us—desperate and frantic and exactly right.
“Was your cock worried, too?” he said, grinning through the gasping, because he was incapable of not being ridiculous even when I was buried inside him.
I pressed my lips against his ear. “Devastated. Inconsolable. It needs the warm sheath of your body very much.”
“Poor thing.” He clenched around me, deliberately, and my vision whited out for a second. “Let me help with that.”
I pinned him harder. He rolled his hips to meet each thrust, his breath coming in sharp, broken cries that echoed off the corridor walls.
I took him the way the fear demanded—deep and relentless, one hand braced against the wall, the other gripping his hip so I could drive into him with all of my power.
I dropped my forehead to his, and he clung tighter, arching his spine until his cock bounced against my stomach.
“I love you,” I said, and it came out ragged, wrecked, nothing like a commander and everything like a man who had nearly lost the only thing that mattered. “I love you, Pip.”
“I love you,” he said, “and I’m going to come, untouched, and if you stop I will kill you.”
I did not stop.
He came first—shaking apart in my arms with a cry that rang off the stone, his body clenching around me in waves that dragged me to the edge and held me there, his cock spurting a sticky mess across his stomach, staining his shirt.
And I followed, burying myself to the hilt, and the orgasm tore through me with a force that made the iron in every lantern bracket in the corridor flare and sing.
The resonance blazed.
Pip laughed. Breathless, shaking, tears still drying on his cheeks, flower petals in his hair, his body still trembling with aftershocks. He laughed, pressing his face into my neck to ask, “Did you just make the whole corridor orgasm?”
“That’s my magic during resonance.”
“Oh,” he whispered, then his eyes widened. “You made it seem like that was just your magic while horny.”
“It has never done that with anyone else.”
“Oh. We’ve been resonant almost from the beginning, then?”
“Yes.”
He beamed at me, pulling me down for a kiss as he held my softening cock inside him. I tasted his tears, and maybe some of my own, too.