Annyell started half out from under the smooth sheets, the coolness of the silk stark against the heat of the arms suddenly around her. She drew in a breath to scream, but let it out in shudders when, “It is only I”, was breathed just over her left ear. Annyell did not scream, but she did not relax. The arms released her and a form moved to stand in the window, backlit by the moon.
Sleek as a jaguar, Terime stood just inside the window frame, his posture bearing a touch of insolence even now. The paleness of his eyes made the green nearly clear, but they were fierce. Hands moving slowly, he removed his equipment, starting with his weapons. His fingers made no sound as they brushed the leather of his pants, or when they reached beneath his shirt. He moved especially slowly when taking the dagger kept hanging between his shoulders from its sheath.
All the while, Annyell sat half-upright in the bed, wings twitching some with nervous indecision.
Softly, Terime said, “You summoned me into your dreams again, my lady?”
Annyell nodded. “Yes, I did.” When she didn’t speak thereafter, Terime reached down to the pile of belongings on the floor and drew out a delicate hand harp.
“Then, if you are willing, I will color this dream of yours with song. If some other delight would stir you more, please tell me.” At that, he closed the gauze curtains around her bed and curled his frame along the shape of the window ledge. He began to play, singing softly at the same time. As he sang of the Land of the Four Lakes in its days before the War of the Gods, Annyell laid back to watch and listen.
After three songs, she burst out from behind the curtains, but stopped before she reached the window and the assassin sitting on it.
“Yes, lady?” A smile flickered above his face but did not land. “Is there something that you wanted of me? Does my music offend?” Annyell was bright red; when her mouth opened, no words came out. “If you would rather, I can take my harp and leave you to a more pleasing dream.” He began to uncurl.
“No!” Having protested, the words failed her again.
“Rest easy, lady. I will not go until you have done with me.” Terime’s voice was soft but huskier than usual, and his eyes shivered all along her body. “Seat yourself, and I will tend to you.”
Annyell lowered herself to sit on the bench at the foot of her bed, hardwood with an embroidered cushion. “I...”, she paused to breathe more slowly, her voice having risen with the nervous pace of her heart, “I thought you had died. You haven’t come for months, and...”
Terime moved to stand in front of her, dropping the harp carelessly atop his other belongings on the way. “And...?” He reached out his right hand, fingers almost entirely extended, toward her face. Perhaps so much as an inch remained between them.
“And...I missed you. I shouldn’t, but I do—did!” The flush that had started to wane returned to the winged elf’s face, and she turned her head away.
“Close your eyes, Annyell.” It was the first time he had said her name. It was always “my lady”, “merciful one”, “priestess”, or simply “lady”. It could have been the shock of that which persuaded her to obey his command.
Terime spent a moment looking at the lines her eyelashes cut across her delicate skin, then moved without sound to the foot of the mattress. She sat facing away from him, her iridescent wings pushing the gauze of the curtains aside. Annyell did not move as he brushed the curtains away. She did gasp as his fingers reached around and brushed her right cheek, so softly. Her eyes shot open, but he whispered, “Easy, easy. You may stop me with a word. Or you may grant me the things hope of which has kept me sane these past months of healing. Have mercy, beautiful one.”
A moment passed before, chest rising and falling rapidly, Annyell closed her eyes again. Terime returned his fingers to her skin, but this time moved her hair aside with one hand to trace the line of her throat with the other. The side of one finger started just behind the top of her right ear and trailed down to her collarbone. The pulse of her fear was clear through his fingertips. He ran his tongue across his bottom lip, then breathed from just behind her, “Trembling like the rarest of butterflies...Oh, priestess, I promise that I will bring you nothing but pleasure this night. Still, this trembling is gratifying. I have hoped to be the first to touch you like this. Alone, in the night of your dreaming, and while you are so vulnerable and trusting. Your trust is my star.”
As he spoke, his fingers ran along the edges of her wings. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she sat up slightly straighter. When one hand ran its fingers from under her chin back around and down her neck, she exhaled deeply and relaxed her back a little. The slightest moan was audible when Terime’s hands covered her shoulders. He smiled at that.
His hands ran, no, slowly walked, down her arms, spreading their warmth along her skin. When he came to her hands, he cradled them in his, closed his eyes, and took a long moment to complete his next breath. Annyell leaned toward him, and he moved from kneeling to sitting down, his boots resting to either side of her on the bench, the rest of him still on the bed.
When her weight rested against him, Terime let out a sigh, his back and legs relaxing a fraction. Placing her hands to either side of his boots, he began to explore. Her legs were just far enough to either side of her that they did not touch, and her body rested on his chest alone. Brushing her hair aside, the assassin laid his face against the side of her neck. “Is this so terrible, priestess? Not a touch that could stain your honor, and such a boon to your poor slave.”
Annyell’s breath was shallow, but she managed to whisper a reply. “My slave?”
“Indeed, sweet one. Ask, and I will obey. Command, and I will leap to fulfill your every whim.”
Annyell’s eyes came open, her lids settling halfway down, and she smiled. “Then continue. I’ll tell you when to stop. I deserve some relief for my worrying, don’t I?”
“Annyell, you deserve anything you can command me to bring you. I will guard treasures you amass, slay the monsters that threaten you, protect your friends, or simply do this...” At that, he laid his lips softly against the back of her neck, pulling her more tightly to him. His arms only held her shoulders, but she followed willingly.
“Yes...” she mouthed, no sound escaping.
“Or perhaps this...” Terime replaced his lips with teeth, the woman melting into him with a moan. A smile was definitely present now, akin to the type a cat wears in the presence of its prey. He grabbed her firmly by the waist, his hands burning the skin her exotic garments left bare. The moan that answered him was clearly audible now. “Did you like that, priestess?” She did not answer. “Did it please you?”
