3. Chapter 3 #2
“You’ll not necessarily want to wield them at the same time unless you find you’re well-suited for it. It could be useful on the hunt, however, since you’re more likely to find yourself amidst multiple targets. Square your stance.”
Levi did so, automatically putting his right foot back, left foot forward, and therefore holding the left dagger out as if to parry, and the right back, ready to strike.
“Very natural,” Daedlys praised, floating to the side to give Levi room. “Give a thrust a try. Shift your hips as you strike and—”
There was a deer—a second deer charging from the left, as he stabbed forward with his dagger.
He had but a moment to swipe outward with the second one, slicing the doe’s throat as she charged, and then he yanked the right dagger from the buck’s chest to drive both weapons forward, one in each deer, before their combined weight could topple forward and crush him.
“Fantastic! And you’ve no experience, you said? Braxton must be a wizard as much as an alchemist. ”
Levi blinked at the sound of Daedlys’s voice, seeing that he had sliced and stabbed nothing but air. The deer had seemed so real. But there were no such creatures in the Shadow Lands anymore.
“You’ll do fine on the hunt, sweet Stitches. Shall I secure the belt for you so you can wear it out?”
Levi lowered his arms and straightened his stance, unsure what to do with the daggers without anywhere to sheathe them yet. “Y-yes, please.”
“You’re going to look stunning, my dear, don’t you worry.”
Daedlys’s touch was as strange as seeing him hold something, for it felt like a brush of wind more than any real weight, a cold presence wrapping the belt around Levi’s waist and showing him how to tighten it with translucent fingers.
That was why Levi started shivering, he told himself, feeling a chill linger at the base of his spine, even after Daedlys stepped back to allow him to admire himself in a nearby mirror.
The rest had merely been another daydream.
Ashmedai
Ashmedai insisted that he and Dreya walk and talk during their morning business to reach the festival site sooner, not wanting to miss his chance to see Levi.
At first he thought he had missed him, for there was no sign of the young man, but then Ashmedai saw Grillo only just arriving, which was when he spotted Levi.
Levi wasn’t coming from down the road but up the market steps, his hood back, bag slung across his body, and sporting a very handsome weapons belt in black with twin daggers.
Despite the different picture Levi painted from the hooded and hunched figure Ashmedai had first met, he also seemed distant, maybe even troubled—until his eyes met Ashmedai’s and immediately seemed to pulse with purple light.
“What do you think?” Dreya asked.
“Hm?”
“About ensuring none of the advisors have a booth to man this year. Not only for me! We could all use a break. Especially Luccite. She works so hard, don’t you think?”
“Absolutely. Whatever you recommend,” Ashmedai said absently, offering a polite bow. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
Dreya seemed about to say something more but let him go without argument.
“Preparing for the hunt?” Ashmedai asked once he reached Levi.
“I thought it best. Also, Daedlys finished your belt.” Levi reached inside his bag to produce the belt—black, like the one Levi had chosen for himself.
It was pure vanity to assume Levi had matched Ashmedai on purpose, but the thought made his smile widen. “Perhaps you could help me confirm there isn’t any need for adjustments before you go.”
Levi’s cheeks flushed deep indigo, and his eyes flashed toward Grillo. But while it was obvious Grillo was waiting on Levi, the minotaur stood back, content to let them finish. Everyone else around the clearing between the houses and market steps were busy amongst themselves.
Levi’s smile was sweet as he motioned for Ashmedai to turn around. The shadows were hiding in his eyes again though—Ashmedai could see them—like swirls of deeper violet.
“Is everything all right?” Ashmedai asked. “If you’d prefer to not assist me—”
“I want to!” Levi exclaimed. “I-I mean… I very mu ch would like to assist you. My mind was elsewhere before, but… I’d rather it be here.”
“Are you sure?”
Levi paused a moment before answering, a pink tongue flitting out to moisten his blue lips. “Yes.”
He stepped forward, not waiting for Ashmedai to turn but approaching from the side and boldly wrapping his arms around Ashmedai’s waist. Levi clasped the belt closed with his arms still coiled around Ashmedai, and for the first time, Ashmedai realized how similar they were in height, for Levi’s breath struck the side of his cheek.
The proper response would have been for Ashmedai to keep his face forward, but the delicate pressure of Levi’s hands at his hips and waist wasn’t causing a very proper reaction.
Ashmedai turned to meet Levi’s eyes, caught in their amethyst glow that was a simple lean away. He licked his lips as he’d seen Levi do and overlapped Levi’s hands on his waist.
“D-does that feel in need of adjustment?” Levi asked, breath still puffing lightly, but now on Ashmedai’s lips.
Ashmedai helped Levi shift the belt until the sheath was on the correct side.
“Feels perfect,” he said, letting his fingers move to Levi’s wrists and caressing the stitches on one and the smoothness of the other.
Keeping hold of Levi’s wrists, he caressed more insistently the one with stitches, like a question.
Levi gave a hasty, private nod, like he wanted nothing more than for Ashmedai to do as implied but didn’t want to acknowledge the throng of people around them.
Covertly, between their bodies, Ashmedai lifted the still-stitched wrist and began to run his thumb and middle finger in slow parallel strokes like the first time, the pulse of shadow magic not unlike the deep purple shadows that occasionally clouded Levi’s eyes.
Perhaps Ashmedai completed the motion a little slower than the time before, watching Levi’s face instead of his wrist, and noting the way Levi’s breath caught, high in his chest, with a quiver at his lips.
Ashmedai slowed further, drawing the spell out for as long as he could, and he could have sworn a whimper left Levi by the end.
A crash forced a much louder gasp from Levi’s lips—nothing dangerous, just a pile of lumber toppling nearby—and Ashmedai felt Levi start to tug his hand back. Then Levi relaxed, clearly not wanting their contact to end, and both their eyes fell to the wrist and fading shadows.
Smooth. Just like the other.
“Will I see you again tonight?” Ashmedai asked, releasing Levi with a linger of his fingers.
Levi’s entire face looked indigo now. “Yes.”
Ashmedai couldn’t wait.
Levi
Levi stared at the tower ceiling above his bed. The hunt was tomorrow, and though he had trained with his daggers and was reasonably confident in his skills, he had never put those skills to practical use before—unless the daydream with the deer meant more than he knew.
The daydreams had persisted all week, usually just a flash of something he didn’t recognize, a time and place he knew he had never been. The walks with Ashmedai had persisted too and were much more pleasant to dwell upon.
But dwelling was why Levi was still awake at such a late hour.
Defeated, he threw aside his blankets and rose from the bed. He could read, but learning something new about the world outside the barrier, or even just indulging in some of the more torrid tomes Braxton owned, wasn’t appealing tonight.
Levi sat in the chair at his window, gazing toward the castle. There was a light on in one of the towers. He wondered if Ashmedai was awake too.
At that thought, Levi touched each of his smooth wrists. He wanted to ask for more stitches gone, but every time the desire occurred to him, they were at the tower door, and he didn’t want Braxton to see.
With a wave of his hand, Levi created an illusion of Ashmedai before him, this time mirroring him in a chair beside the window, reading a nondescript book.
Levi’s illusions didn’t include sound, or he’d mimic Ashmedai’s voice as well to read him something.
That would be far more appealing than reading to himself, especially when Levi’s mind drifted once more to Braxton’s romances.
Some of them got rather heated, and imagining those scenes spoken aloud in Ashmedai’s deep tones made the heat rise in Levi’s cheeks.
Despite having no sound, Levi could do much more with just an image—like shed Ashmedai of his clothing. He didn’t know what the king’s body looked like beneath his garments, but he had often wondered….
No. Levi couldn’t do that. Even if it would only be his imagination, it felt wrong to objectify Ashmedai in that way. The real thing would be preferable anyway.
Dismissing the image, Levi felt equally guilty considering pleasuring himself with the image of Ashmedai still so fresh in his mind, even though he’d already resisted the urge for days, after Ashmedai removed more stitches.
The sensation was more than pleasant, it was…
pleasurable . He’d noticed even more the second time than the first.
Levi had pleasured himself before. Not long after he first achieved consciousness, Braxton had told him to familiarize himself with his body, and Levi had done so.
He hadn’t expected to find pleasure when his exploratory touch inevitably led between his legs, but when he started to feel it, to harden and find his breath catching, he hadn’t shied away.
No bodily reaction could have been more natural.
He looked again at the castle in the distance and the light on in one of the towers. Oh, to know another’s touch someday, rather than only his own.
Snatching up his cloak but not changing out of the nightshirt he wore to bed, Levi fled down the stairs as lightly as he could. He didn’t know what he was doing, where he was going, but when he reached the bottom of the tower, his first stop was to ensure Braxton was asleep.