Episode 98
Wandering Magic
Wherever Arisanna is going with this, Cerian has no intention of stopping her.
She looks unsure of herself, but before he can think of anything to say or do to put her at ease, she wanders near him again, though she doesn’t touch him.
“Does your magic want to come out to play, my elven prince?”
Yes. Yes, it does.
But...they seem to be engaged in some sort of dance here. Perhaps he shouldn’t respond too eagerly.
“You need only ask,” he whispers. Hopefully, that’s the response she desires. Already, his plant magic longs to wrap itself around her.
Then she leans so close, lifting onto her toes, that her breath tickles his ear, and he barely bites back a groan. His spark of fire magic may ignite soon if he’s not careful. It’s tempered but not obliterated.
“Catch me with your magic, my elven prince.”
She’s across the room before he fully comprehends her words, and she looks back at him with a hesitancy in her eyes that makes him want to draw her close and reassure her she has nothing to fear.
But his magic has other ideas. It definitely wants to play her game, and it responds eagerly when he lets it. A vine slithers along the floor toward her, but she runs from it, and a smile tugs at his lips. She can’t escape his magic.
And they both know it.
“Before this goes any further,” he says softly, “tell me if you want me to stop. All right? I wish for you to feel safe.”
She nods, warmth and affection filling her eyes.
And he lets his vines trail after her, slowly at first, giving her time to hurry away.
After a few minutes of this, he lets them brush against her, and she squeals.
The desire to make her squeal again fills him.
“Take off your boots, Arisanna,” he says as he stands at the side of the room with his arms crossed, and her heart speeds up.
Whistling wind. He just wants to tickle her feet. What must she think he’s planning to tell her next?
But she complies, and he says nothing else.
They continue their game of cat and mouse, and eventually, he wraps his vines around her legs, trapping her where she stands against the wall on the other side of the room.
“I want a bowl, Cerian. Before your vines go any farther.”
His lips tilt into a grin as he wanders toward her. She must not have noticed.
“You wish for a bowl?”
“And two sticks. I know you can—”
He presses a finger to her lips.
Then he holds up the bowl and sticks he grew quite a few minutes ago. Thoughts of her soft flesh beneath his wandering magic consume him, and his burgeoning fire magic threatens to burst forth, but he continues to hold it back. “You mean these?”
Her face lights up as she reaches for the bowl, but he holds it away from her.
“I’m not done playing.”
Her eyes grow wide, and her heart beats even faster.
But she never even hints that she wants him to stop.
“Do you need to eat something first?” she whispers as she glances at the room around them.
He follows her gaze and freezes at the sight.
Vines grow everywhere, carpeting the floor and trailing the walls.
Whistling wind. This may be difficult to explain.
She seems more concerned with him than the room, though. “Perhaps we should get some food in you. Do you feel all right?”
The thought of eating instead of continuing this game of theirs makes him grumpy enough to realize she’s probably right.
“Chocolate is a plant,” she says.
Chocolate. He tries not to make a face.
“Just eat a couple, my elven prince. The ones with the white squiggles on top are pure chocolate. No nuts inside.”
Did he tell her his fears about chocolate? Or did she guess?
“I’d find them for you,” she continues, “but I can’t move my legs.”
Reluctantly, he nods and collects the candy from across the room before handing her the package with the chocolates.
When she lifts a square to him, he eyes it skeptically. “And you’re sure there’s nothing inside it?”
“These are my mother’s favorites. Pure chocolate.”
Parting his lips, he braces himself for whatever he’s about to experience.
Whistling wind. It’s...amazing. The solid texture and the slightly bittersweet taste. He hazards a bite, and the chocolate feels the same throughout. No surprises.
Thank the fates.
He chews and swallows, and she says nothing as she offers him another one, which he eats without complaint.
“Can we get more of these before we leave?” he asks, though part of him doesn’t want to admit she was right.
She smiles and offers him another chocolate. “We can buy an entire tray of them if you want.”
“Which ones are your favorites?”
She finds a chocolate with a caramel-colored drizzle on top and what appear to be chopped nuts, and he once again resists the urge to make a face.
“These are chocolate truffles. A hard shell of chocolate around a softer middle. I don’t think you’d like them.”
“Probably not,” he says as he takes it from her. “Close your eyes.”
She blinks a few times before doing as he says.
“Now open your mouth.”
He slips the chocolate truffle past her lips, and just as he was hoping, she moans softly as soon as she bites down on the sweet.
“May I be done eating for now?” he asks as he takes the candy package from her and sets it aside.
She nods, her eyes still closed, and once she swallows, he kisses her. She tastes like chocolate.
He lets his vines wander over her and cocoons her in warm air to take the edge off his growing heat. She doesn’t complain.
“I love your magic.”
She’s definitely not complaining.
“You need to eat more than a few chocolates, though, my elven prince,” she eventually murmurs. “And you’re growing warmer.”
With a sigh, he rests his forehead against hers. She’s right. He knows she’s right.
“Promise we can finish this later?”
Her breath hitches as his vines slide along her flesh. “Do you even need to ask?”
He presses one more kiss to her lips before pulling his vines back and releasing her legs. “Are you all right?”
Nodding, she looks up at him with a hint of a smile in place. “I don’t want to stop either, but at least I know how to tempt you now, my plant wielder.”
He laughs before he can stop himself. “Your methods were quite effective.” Then he looks into her eyes. “Thank you.”
“Always, Cerian. I love you.” She looks around the room again. “Can you clean this up with your magic?”
“I can try.” His plant magic is powerful enough to turn plant growth back on itself to some degree, but what they really need is an elf with destruction magic.
Or Viala, though she might accidentally explode something. Destruction magic can be difficult to control for inexperienced magic wielders. And the Lothlesi don’t train their younglings to use magic the way elves do. They learn as adults.
And Viala is young among her people, having only recently come into her magic.
She can do amazing things, but...her control leaves something to be desired.
Besides, she would tell Tharios, and then Cerian would never hear the end of it.
He does his best to get rid of the vines, but it’s a lost cause. They’re still everywhere.
“I may need to speak to Father about how to remedy this. Or my mother.”
Arisanna bursts into laughter, and he rolls his eyes.
“I like it,” she says with a grin. “You’ve greatly improved the decor.”
“Hush, you.”
“Seriously. It feels like home now.” She lifts her brows in his direction, and once the meaning of her words occurs to him, he wraps his hands around her waist again.
“Home?”
“I’m Arisanna Montarac Westaria now, my elven prince. I hail from Windhaven House in Darlei. Don’t look so surprised.”
A joy too forceful to contain fills him, and he can’t stop the smile that sweeps over his face. “You are amazing.”
“You know what else is amazing, my elven prince? Caramel apples. And you. I’m fond of both.”
“Caramel apples.” He looks away and sighs. “You’re as persistent as any Westarian woman. Elf or otherwise.”
“I shall take that as a compliment. Now come on. I think you’ll like caramel apples.”
He has his doubts, but he doesn’t argue as she tugs him along.