8. Aegir
Chapter eight
Aegir
IN WHICH RAKES INEVITABLY HAVE PAST LOVERS WHO ARE BOUND TO BE DISGRUNTLED
A s soon as they were well into the forest, Aegir noticed Elspeth tripping over roots.
"Seems like you are not used to walking through the forest, I had sort of pegged you for an outdoorsy type of girl," he said.
"I am, normally. But we don’t have forests like this on—my island. We have a few trees, a copse here and there, but certainly nothing like this."
"I imagine you have to look at the ground a fair bit more here then," he said, waving his hand at the base of a tree.
"Oh, we have our fair share of reasons you need to look at the ground, I just didn’t realize how much the leaves were hiding. I can pay attention to the ground all I want, but if they are determined to trip me, there’s not much I can do about that."
"You’ve got a point," Aegir chuckled.
From then on, Elspeth kept her eyes trained on the ground, which meant Aegir could watch her. She was so tiny compared to him, it made sense when they were both shifted, but he wanted to ask if all selkies were as short as she was, or if it was just her. 1 And, he had to admit, he was somewhat abnormally tall.
In the Empire, it made sense, but growing up, he’d always felt huge and awkward. The lone boy in a family of seven children, and the middle child, he towered over even his older sisters by the time he was twelve. In the portrait of the seven of them that hung on his parents’ wall, they looked like a little triangle with him at the top.
As a younger man, he’d been gangly and clumsy, and had spent years learning to subtly modify his body so he wouldn’t feel so alien. He’d even made himself shorter at times, so he wouldn’t stick out in a crowd as much.
It was partly why he had chosen the form that he had. If he was an orca, obviously, it made sense that he was tall. It was why he stayed partially shifted most of the time, so that anyone he interacted with would just assume it was because he was an orca shifter, not because he was just some strange accident of genetics.
With Elspeth though, he felt like his size served a purpose. He was large so that he could scoop her up at any second, or stand in front of her for protection. He smiled to himself as they walked. Surely the bond was getting to him. His stomach felt like it was skittering around inside his torso when she smiled at him or when he caught her elbow to save her from falling.
It was strange, because it wasn’t just that he wanted to fuck her. Which he did, of course, but in the strangest turn, he found himself instead fantasizing about mundane things. He thought about waking in the morning to her hair splayed across his chest. About mapping all of the markings strewn across her body. She would smile at him, and he’d picture her on the bow of his ship, hair whipping in the breeze.
This bond must be a powerful thing, because it made him want , it made him hunger for things he never dreamed he’d be able to have. For so long, he’d presented one character or another to the world, but he wanted her to know him rather than some persona he’d created.
The problem was, he wasn’t sure he remembered who he really was anymore .
He knew his characters well, the rakish captain, the beguiling Elvish officer who charmed people into letting their guard down, the charismatic orc, who was a man of the people and so many more. Somewhere along the way, he’d lost whatever it was that made him, him and filled it up with bits of characters he’d read in books.
"When we get to the inn, I’ll be playing a character, so I won’t speak the way you expect, or even act the way you expect. I don’t want to startle you."
Gently, he grasped Elspeth’s hand closest to his and tucked it into his elbow. She squeezed gently and nodded to him.
They broke from the trees near the edge of town and skirted through a series of alleyways until they entered the main thoroughfare. Elspeth squeezed his arm again, this time firmer, and he could feel the rest of her body shaking at his side.
Pulling her to the side of the street so wheeled vehicles could pass by, he pointed in the distance, as if showing her something and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You don’t need to worry, no one is going to bother you when you’re with me."
He smiled down at her, and when she looked up at him with those eyes that seemed to hold a million colors—brown and gold and green and orange, gray and black—so complex and deep he could drown in them, he felt the truth of it in his soul.
He was, for all intents and purposes, an officer of the imperial army. His mere presence would intimidate. But at a deeper level, she was safe because somewhere deep within, he knew that he would fight until the very end to protect her. Being separated was likely to cause him physical pain. He would have never chosen this bond for himself, but as it settled into him, he wondered if it might actually be good for him.
The plan was still to break it if possible, but if it wasn’t, perhaps it wasn’t the end of the world…
There was something so right about the way her fingers felt wrapped around his bicep.
Elspeth hesitated when he opened the door, and he nudged her along with a hand on her back. It felt right there, anchoring. In a room of people who didn’t know him, or knew a fabricated version of him, that one touch meant to stabilize her, had instead done so to him.
The inn was dark even in the late afternoon. The large windows at the front were obscured with years of smoke, giving the room a dim orange tint. Lanterns and several large chandeliers provided what other light there was.
They’d come during a transition time, it seemed, as the common room was less full than he’d seen it in the past. The familiar innkeeper waited behind the bar, waving at him as they entered. Aegir left his hand on Elspeth’s lower back, steering her among the tables.
All around them, short horns stuck out of curly hair in a warm range of colors. Deep, burnished gold, warm reds, and coppery browns surrounded them. The fauns of Psetra were boisterous people, and the sound of music twined through the room. 2 When they approached the bar, the jovial innkeeper clapped Aegir on the shoulder.
"How goes the path Alwin?" the proprietor asked. He wore a loose shirt and vest, and flowing pants that would reveal his hooved feet if he came out from behind the bar. There were so many ways that the Empire had imposed its rule, and the clothing and the innkeepers greeting were only two of the more visible ways.
"The path is ever winding, but I remain stalwart." As everyone in the town knew him as an elf, Aegir gave one of their stock esoteric answers. "I require lodging for the night and two meals. If you could arrange a more private table, I would be much obliged."
"Of course, I know Trina will be glad to see you. Feel free to take that table there in the corner, and we’ll get you fixed right up."
To her credit, Elspeth didn’t say anything until they’d arrived at their table.
"Only one room, Alwin ?" she asked, her voice shrill.
"Hush, we’re trying not to draw attention. And you are either my wife or my pet, depending on how closely people look. I’ve never had anyone unwilling in my bed, and I’m not going to start now. You’ve nothing to fear with me."
"Well, I certainly hope you don’t think that you’re sleeping in bed with me," she hissed.
"Oh, that’s all right, sweetie," cut in the saccharine voice of Trina. "He always knows that he’s welcome in my bed. If you’re too stubborn or dumb to let him into yours, I’m happy to take your leavings. What will it be your honor?"
Aegir didn’t blame the waitress for her assumption; on all of his previous visits, they had spent lovely times together.
"As you can see, Trina, dear, my new bride and I are still settling in. She’s still getting used to the idea of married couples sleeping together when away from home." He nodded his head graciously and reached across the table to squeeze Elspeth’s hand in a way that he hoped looked fond. "We’ll take two glasses of red and two servings of whatever deliciousness Mrs. Engel has whipped up today.”
Trina’s eyes roamed across Elspeth’s cloaked figure, distaste twisting her mouth. "Tonight, we’ve got homemade sausages with her fresh veg and pickles," she answered, turning her full attention back to Aegir.
"A-actually," Elspeth interrupted. "No pickles for me please."
With her attention still focused entirely upon Aegir, Trina nodded. "Of course, and you just let me know if you need anything else." She winked and turned to go, her hips swaying, likely more than strictly necessary.
"Wife?" Elspeth hissed.
"Unless you were lying to me," he whispered back. "To your people we’re as good as married. High elves would never let a lady travel alone, so unless you want to start calling me daddy and masquerading as my daughter, wife will cause the least questions."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes to the ceiling, and Aegir hated how that dismissal made his cock twitch. "If you have friends everywhere, like you do here, it might be an extremely unlikely story indeed. If my estimation is correct, you’ve likely got special friends littered all over the continent, and I don’t enjoy being instantly disliked on principle."
Frowning, Aegir considered. He’d never given thought to it really, never had any reason to. He supposed it would be an uncomfortable scenario.
"I’m sorry," he said. "I admit I hadn’t thought of that. If you’d like, we can discuss what you’d rather do this evening."
Their options were limited and, considering the way he felt about her, wife had seemed like the best of the lot. Neither sister nor daughter felt remotely palatable. Pet might have been a possibility if he hadn’t been sure she’d find it distasteful—all things considered, he supposed he did, too.
"I take it you’ve slept with Trina?" Elspeth asked. She quirked an eyebrow, pinning him to his seat.
"That obvious?" He hoped the lightness he injected into his tone would soften the way she was looking at him.
"I don’t think she was trying for ‘subtle.’ In fact, I think she was endeavoring for ‘I’ve sampled his wares and wouldn’t mind going back for seconds if only this little mouse would get lost.’"
Despite knowing she was speaking from Trina’s perspective, Aegir couldn’t get the thought of Elspeth "sampling his wares" out of his mind. The bond held him firmly in its grip now.
Trina, a partner he’d slept with on multiple occasions, seemed as bland as toast now. No, it was worse, the thought of sleeping with her was downright revolting. Objectively, he could see she was an attractive woman, but the second he thought of touching her, his skin crawled like he was covered in bugs. 3
Elspeth though? Now that was a possibility he’d love to explore. Stroking himself to thoughts of her had barely provided temporary relief and he’d been hard since seeing her again. Though his outward appearance was that of a high elf, he’d kept his member securely in its pocket, so he could maintain some level of decorum. If he was feeling this way, though, possibly Elspeth was as well? Flicking his eyes back up to her, the expectant look on her face reminded him they’d been conversing, about Trina of all inane things.
"Oh, yes, well I don’t think she’s ever quite been subtle, and she’s the one that can get lost as far as I am concerned." He flipped his hand to the side dismissively. "Honestly, the thought of her is repulsive."
"Oh," Elspeth breathed. "Be that as it may, if we continue on this tack, I am certain this won’t be the last time I’m treated badly. I’d prefer to avoid that again, if possible."
The sadness in her voice broke him. "We’ll figure something out, my wee siren. I’ll ensure it won’t happen again."
Trina interrupted with their drinks, sloshing Elspeth’s across the table, likely on purpose. Anger flared hot in his chest, though he kept a tight rein on it.
"Oh I’m terribly sorry, ma’am," the faun smirked.
Aegir shot to his feet, rage boiling in his chest. He opened his mouth, admonitions ready to spew forth but stopped when he felt a tug on his hand. Warmth spread from that location, and when he looked down, Elspeth held him, squeezing his fingers and shaking her head slightly. She looked up at him with those eyes that he thought he could drown in, her discomfort plain.
"It was an accident, Alwin, " she said, nodding her head. With gentle pressure, she pulled him down next to her, instead of across the round booth. Her thigh brushed his own and she didn't release his hand, squeezing it like a heartbeat .
Though anger still roiled within him, it was a slow simmer, rather than a rolling boil.
"Yes, an accident." His voice and eyes were tight as he directed the statement to Trina. "See that it doesn't happen again."
Elspeth's thumb traced circles on the back of his hand, the small touch calming and igniting him—though admittedly in entirely different areas.
“There now," she said. "Feel better?"
Aegir cleared his throat and nodded once. They needed to have a talk, and soon. He wouldn't broach the subject in the middle of a common room, but as soon as they were alone, he'd see if they could come to some sort of accord.
Trina turned around and grabbed their food from a tray behind her, plonking it onto the table with sass. "Do you need anything else?"
"No, Trina, I think we’ve had more than enough thank you." Aegir grit his teeth and swapped his hand to squeeze Elspeth’s. The faun gave him a snide smile and sauntered off to the bar.
With a deep breath, Aegir closed his eyes, steadying himself and opening them to take in Mrs. Engel’s delectable food. The sausage was on thick, crusty bread, and a stream of steam rose off it, making his mouth water .
"Looks tasty," Elspeth whispered.
"It does," Aegir said. He’d turned to look at her, instead. The sandwich looked… fine, but she looked like he could eat her for hours, as if she were his last meal. Now entirely ambivalent about Engel’s normally amazing food, he lifted the sandwich and took a big bite. The juicy meat filled his mouth, the sharpness of pickle providing a sharp, cutting contrast to its richness.
"Ugh," Elspeth groaned. "Pickles."
"What?" Aegir threw his sandwich down onto his plate, standing up without thinking.
"It’s—it’s fine," Elspeth stammered.
"No, it isn’t." Crossing the common room in a few short steps, Aegir arrived at the bar counter. "She said no pickles! Trina’s gone too far!"
"Oh?" the innkeeper asked, wiping the bar-top and raising a brow. He was acting nonchalant, but Aegir could see the twitch in his eye.
"Yes, she’s being insolent to my wife, spilling her drink and bringing the incorrect food."
The owner’s eyes went wide. "That’s not like Trina…"
"Normally, no, but I think she is a bit jealous of my new bride…" Aegir rubbed the back of his neck, a bit embarrassed now that he was faced with the confrontation and telling more people his half-truths about Elspeth. As soon as he thought of her, she materialized next to him, placing a hand on his chest to calm him.
"Really, sir, I understand," she said. "Alwin is quite the catch, and were I in her place, I’d be disappointed too."
Heart squeezing in his chest, he looked down at the woman who’d caught him so completely and was quickly making her way into his heart. She smiled, cocking her head in a self-deprecating way.
Would she really? Be disappointed? He’d have to ask. He knew he’d be disappointed now if she belonged to anyone else. Somehow, in a few short days, with the aid of the bond, she’d practically become his entire world.
Theoretically, they were trying to find a way out of it, but as he sat with the idea, he found he was beginning to like being tied to Elspeth. Caring for her felt so much more tangible, more real than any of his work against the Empire, and he knew he’d miss the overwhelming way she consumed his thoughts. He’d always been one for a good time—always enjoyed the company of a partner, but with Elspeth, it went deeper.
He wanted to fulfill her dreams, he wanted to help her find peace, be a place she felt safe. Aegir wanted to create a world, a life, where she could practice her art without fear of the Empire coming to scoop her up. To explore the pleasure her body could bring her without feeling… whatever it was she felt that made her distant from him.
Truthfully, he didn’t understand her feelings. He’d never experienced them. However, the fact remained that even if he never could, he wanted to be there for her.
"Would you mind, sir, sending up our food and telling me which room is ours?" Elspeth asked, dragging him from his musings.
"Of course. Upstairs, and to the left, it’s different from where you’ve stayed in the past, Alwin, since you’ve a lady with you," his old acquaintance said. "There's a bath with a tap in that room—figured the lady would appreciate it after the road."
"She absolutely would." Elspeth beamed at the elderly faun, causing him to blush. "I appreciate it so much."
With a hand on his elbow, Elspeth steered him away from the counter and toward the stairs he’d climbed no less than ten times.
In the past, he’d often climbed with Trina in tow, or with the promise of her joining him in his room shortly. It had always presented a pleasant diversion, but with Elspeth? With Elspeth he was shaking. His knees quivered as he held her arm and his heart sped in his chest.
They reached the top step in a blur, one second, they were on the stairs, and in another, Elspeth was opening the door.
Like all rooms in the inn, it was simple. It held a window to the outdoors, a bed, a table with two chairs, and a door which surely led to the privy. Gaslamps ringed the room and Elspeth expertly struck the match to ignite them. 4
The room illuminated and Aegir’s eyes focused on the singular bed. Obviously he’d let Elspeth have it if she so desired, but he’d chop off his left baby toe to sleep there with her. 5
"Would you like first shot at the bath?" he asked.
1. All selkies from Hillskerry are short. In general, humanoids with an animal affinity seem to have heights that mirror their animal species’ size.
2. Originally, I believe that fauns and satyrs may have been entirely separate peoples. Evidence suggests, however, that the Empire forced the two to cohabitate, out of an assumption that they were the same. Over time, the two have merged to form one people that uses the names interchangeably.
3. When pressed for more specific information, Aegir only shared that he felt like he was covered in spiders. The wretched man did not elucidate on species no matter how I prodded.
4. Again, the similar styles of decoration between the two continents suggests the Lady’s influence, though she was asleep.
5. Nevermind the fact that he could re-grow his left toe at will.