The Pen is Mightier! (penismightier) wrote in chaotic_library, @ 2011-05-03 21:51:00 |
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Current music: | George R. Powell - When She Needed You |
[Celena Schezar/Folken Fanel; NC-17] I Am Falling (Help Me To Breathe)
Character/Series: Celena Schezar, Folken Fanel; The Vision of Escaflowne
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Sequel of sorts to The Politics of Truth. No idea where this one came from. I thought Folken was asexual. :(
Title: I Am Falling (Help Me To Breathe)
Author: yuuo
Word Count: 1682
Summary: Folken did not consider himself much of a feeling man.
Folken did not consider himself much of a feeling man. Any sense of emotion outside of sheer, bullheaded determination had been shunted to the side when he picked up the mantle of Strategos, and any trace of physical need had been forgotten.
But he found himself growing fond of the young woman who Dilandau used to be as her visits became more and more frequent.
Oftentimes, she did little else but read his books, standing there silently in his company, as if he may as well not even be there, except to grant her permission to enter. But sometimes she spoke with him, and he found that she was incredibly intelligent, with a brutally sharp wit. She was sometimes rough around the edges, as if she were learning civilized behavior from him as they spoke, which, given that her previous experience was through a child's eyes, and then through Dilandau's, didn't surprise him much.
Her expression rarely changed, he noticed. It was always solemn, as if she knew she was borrowing time she did not have and was afraid of getting caught at it. But every now and then...
Every now and then, she'd smile at him, and for some reason he couldn't fathom, it felt like his world spun with that smile. It lit up her face, glowed in her eyes and he couldn't help but like that smile. He liked that he made such a clearly tormented and unhappy young girl smile.
Oh, he felt that way about the young beastgirls he'd saved, too- he was glad they were happy now, in his care, rather than falling to certain death. But something about this woman, so mysterious, an almost total unknown, it stirred something else in him that he thought was long dead and buried.
She never told him her name. He wondered idly if she'd forgotten it, under the effects of the Fate Alteration that made her into Dilandau.
She looked up at him from her book one day, as he sat at his table, reading his own. He felt her gaze and glanced over. "Is the book difficult?" he asked.
She shook her head, setting it aside. "No," she answered in that soft voice of hers, then stepped over. "Yours?"
He couldn't help but smile faintly. "It's one I've read before. No, it's not difficult. Would you care to see?"
She shook her head, studying him silently with those solemn eyes. Soft blonde curls framed her face, and the scar that marred Dilandau's appearance was gone with this visit, as it sometimes was. The reversal of Fate Alteration was complete right now, he supposed, and he couldn't help but feel a bit of secret glee that the experiments of the other sorcerers were not so successful as they'd hoped. Both for the girl's sake- she might someday have her life back- and for his own sense of superiority.
Sensing that she had something she wanted to say, Folken closed the book and watched her patiently, waiting to see what was on her mind.
"Do you feel?" she finally asked, making him blink in surprise. That was certainly an interesting question.
"Why do you ask?"
Tilting her head to one side, she continued to study him for a moment. "Am I a curiosity to you?"
That got him to quirk his lips a bit as he stood, grabbing both his book and her abandoned one to put them away. "You are, my lady," he told her honestly. "And I like to think of you as a friend, if that is all right with you."
She watched him, blinking. "Friend?" She turned the word over on her tongue again, as if caressing it, and he glanced back, watching her work her lips with some interest. "I like that idea," she finally decided. "Are you his friend?"
Folken had found that whenever she referred to an unnamed 'him', she inevitably meant Dilandau. "No, I am not," he said, walking back over to her. "He does not like me much."
"No," she agreed, looking up at him. "He doesn't. You are too bossy. He doesn't like authority." She smiled faintly, as if she held a secret that she was about to divulge to him. "He doesn't like me, either. He knows nothing of me, except that I am here."
"I'm sure that drives him mad," Folken commented idly, watching that smile with interest.
The smile widened for a moment, then disappeared as she watched him. After a hesitation, those lovely lips parted slightly and she stood on her tiptoes, crossing six inches of height difference and kissed him lightly.
Everything in Folken's brain short circuited. Her lips were warm and soft, and surprisingly welcome. He never thought in a million years he'd welcome anyone's kiss, much less the kiss of this enigmatic stranger who had dropped herself down into his life unexpectedly.
"I want to feel again," she whispered against his lips, then parted her lips against his.
That set off a chain reaction in his brain and he grabbed her shoulders, returning the kiss, taking the invitation of parted lips to slip his tongue past hers, tasting and exploring her. Feel again? Yes, that's what it was. A desire to feel, to really feel, something he hadn't done since he'd become Strategos. But this curious girl, the lovely young woman who came to him for guidance and support in her stolen time from her captor, she reminded him of the sort of person he wanted a better world for.
He barely registered when her hands worked open the front of his shirt until he felt her warm skin against his as she slipped her hands inside, under his clothes, fingers tracing indeterminate patterns across his chest. His kiss turned aggressive as he backed them towards his bed.
She didn't seem to mind his plans, pushing the top of his robes off over his shoulders. Folken released her shoulder with his flesh hand, fingers drifting down over her front, and he was pleased to discover that the Fate Alteration was currently undone enough that she was physically female.
Not that it would've mattered much to him; it was never about physical gender. But it made things a little less awkward for him, as he at least had an idea what to do with a woman, and very little beyond basic mechanics what to do with a man.
She broke the kiss then to reach down and pull off her shirt, abandoning it on the floor as they reached the bed, exposing her breasts to his examination. They were small, but attractive, and he ghosted his flesh hand over one nipple, refused to touch them with his mechanical hand, lest the claws hurt sensitive skin, and watched in fascination as the nipple tightened, responded to his touch.
Intellectually, he knew what reactions to expect. She would undoubtedly be wet, lubricated to take his erection comfortably with minimal uncomfortable friction, and the flush across her chest was perfectly natural, but it was so exciting to him, something he'd never seen before, and she'd chosen to trust him with such intimacies. And here he was, knowing so little about her, trusting her.
It seemed clothing couldn't be shed fast enough as they both helped each other struggle out of what remained of their clothes before falling back on the bed, skin warm against skin. All of Dilandau's scars and callouses were gone, leaving only soft, new skin that caressed his gently, curiously, exploringly. She reinitiated the kiss, slipping her tongue into his mouth to taste him, and he let her, encouraged the kiss hungrily.
She straddled his hips, pressing down teasingly against him and he sucked in a sharp breath at the slick contact, at the delicious heat that slid along his erection. Her solemn expression turned into a soft smile as she pressed down against him again, his cock slipping inside her entrance this time. "Make me feel, Folken," she whispered.
"With pleasure, my lady," he replied as his hands came to rest on her hips and he thrust up against her. She moaned, closed her eyes, and balled her hands into fists against his chest as she matched his thrusts, riding him with a certain amount of clumsiness.
His nerves felt like they were burning, crackling with electricity and he felt positively light-headed as he thrust up into her slick tightness; she made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a squeak at a particularly deep thrust, then looked down at him, breathless and trembling and hazy eyed. Her face went out of focus as heat crashed over him, leaving his skin tingling and a tightening at the base of his cock just as the world exploded into white noise.
She shuddered against him, then laid her head down on his chest. He found himself wrapping his arms around her before he knew what he was doing, his clawed hand very lightly running down her spine. She shivered, then looked up at him, kissed him one more time, before getting up off him and settling on the edge of the bed. "I should go," she said quietly. "He's coming back."
Yes, that would be awkward, Folken decided, and sat up, resting his hands on her shoulders and kissing the back of her neck lightly. "Then you'd best hurry," he told her.
She looked back at him, her blue eyes once again solemn. "Celena," she said after a moment's hesitation. "That's my name. Celena."
He smiled faintly. "Will I see you again, Celena?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. I never know when I can take my life back from him. Maybe. One day, I'll have it back for good." She cocked her head to the side. "Will you be there then?"
"I will still be here. I have my work."
She seemed satisfied with that answer, and got up, dressed, and left before Dilandau could make his reappearance. He watched his door long after she'd left before he got up and dressed as well, returning to his work.