Completed Licking Love Off of Knives

She was trapped too. He did not get the sense that she was aggrieved by being made to kill, but it seemed they felt a need to control their most dangerous weapons.

Perhaps that was why they had decided to chain him with magic, rather than carry out a simple execution.

"My svalen, my soul," he said after a moment's consideration. "When a Nordenfiir comes of age, they can...change. Svalen. Like a...bear."

Most of his kind spoke the common language well, but his colony lived in a stretch of islands where old fiirevik was still the tradition. His people had always treated outsiders with disdain and saw the new ways as soft.
 
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Your soul?” Everleigh echoed, tilting her head curiously towards Erland. She found it strange to call the ability of turning into a bear as one’s soul, but when she looked at the runes that made the skin red and raw she could understand why he called it his soul. It reminded her of how only a few people could actually heal her without hurting her.

She was poison. They always tried to fix that and it put Everleigh in immense pain. She had tried learning healing magic. Something didn’t click with her, so she had stopped studying it.

So you can’t turn into a bear anymore.” A statement. “Dreadlords did this to you? Or something else? Cursed by a witch, maybe?” But the bigger question swirling in her mind was why keep Erland to work at a brothel? A sick joke? A way to get off from one’s sense of ego and power?

Erland Karr
 
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"It is a part of us. Nirdenfiir," he explained.

She seemed genuinely interested in this. It surprised him. There was often talk and curiosity. It rarely felt like any more than filling the space people liked to talk at him more than listen. If it was about his people it was usually to help entertain the fantasy.

That was always his least favourite. His past being demanded into someone's imagination. Oh no, I have been captured by the norther raider...

"Cursed by a which maybe," he repeated, trying to make sense of the words. "Who would these people ask to do such magic?" he asked, waving his arms to indicate the town around them.
 
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You’re right.” Everleigh agreed with him, her question had been nonsensical but a small part of her had hoped that it hadn’t been those like her. “It was most likely dreadlords. Like me.” She looked away, feeling a sort of conflict within her that she couldn’t quite understand. She didn’t feel guilty or shameful about his circumstances, and she couldn’t quite say she felt pity. While there was some sort of pity and empathy there, there was something far greater consuming her heart.

You don’t want revenge?” Everleigh looked up into Erland’s eyes, seeking the truth as she asked a far more important question. “You don’t want to hurt me?” He didn’t know her magic, couldn’t understand how quick it could happen. Like many others, he probably assumed it had to get in his blood or mouth, there was no way of knowing she could poison the air. So if he wanted to, he could go and break her neck.

Erland Karr
 
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"If a roof maker put a hole on my roof because he was told, would I want to hurt all roof makers?" he asked in return.

He saw where the question was coming from, but there was no fear in her eyes. Even as exposed and vulnerable as she was.

Despite the logic of his answer there was something far more pathetic at the heart of it. The edge of his anger had been slowly ground away by the life he found himself in.
 
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Everleigh shrugged. It was a good analogy she supposed, just wasn’t one she could comprehend. Maybe it was from all her time at the Academy or maybe it was because at this moment, she couldn’t understand what it felt like to her will diminished.

Maybe you wouldn’t but I would.” She answered honestly. “If our roles were reversed and I had to endure being humped every night by men I despised, even if there was one that hadn’t joined in on humiliating me, I’d kill everyone I could. Either that or they’d be fucking a corpse.” Her words were plain but there was a edge in her tone. She was quiet, thinking over her words.

But I think I’m like that because I don’t have much of a reason to live for. Do you have someone back in the tundra that you want to get back to?

Erland Karr
 
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That cut painfully to the heart of it. The worst of it was not that she aimed at him with her bold proclamation, but that he had no answer.

He had been cut off from his raiding party and captured. He should have fought until he gasped his very last breath. Then he would not have been forced to endure the humiliation.

What did he say to that?

It's a fucking nightmare but it turns out I'm so damned attached to life I endure?


He drew in a long breath through his nose. He rarely had such personal questions thrown at him, even as people opened up about their own lives.

"I do not. And I thought the same as you. I did. I was wrong about myself."

He watched her carefully, wondering if she would offer some form of judgement. Somehow, that would have been even worse than dealing with his day to day life.
 
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It was too late to take back her question, and as she watched Erland, she wasn’t sure what was best to do now. To switch the conversation into something lighter? To pretend they had never gotten on a topic that was far too deep for two strangers to really unpack?

Maybe.” Everleigh said, getting up from her knees and moving over just enough so that she could sit on Erland’s thigh. She paused, hesitating for a moment, before leaning towards his chest and resting her shoulders and neck against him. “Or maybe you’re just older and wiser and thinking differently. Like when you got that scar for being young and stupid and drunk.” A hint of a smile was on her lips.

Besides, it’s always easier to say things than to do things.” She herself could think the same about herself, still stuck in the Academy and under Marianne Goestch’s thumb.

Erland Karr
 
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"It is, yes," Erland agreed.

There was a note of regret in his voice, but he sat upright and straightened his shoulders.

Maybe one day the tattoo on his hip would be like that scar. A lesson from the past. How could he learn if he was dead?

Erland did not know if he was rationalising his past decisions to make them seem less cowardly. He did not know if he cared any more. It was behind him.

"People do not normally pay so much for me to talk," he said with a smile of his own.
 
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Somewhere along the way way between all of their words, Everleigh had almost convinced herself that this was conversation being had by two strangers. It was a strange yet humbling reminder that she was at a whore house playing pretend.

I figured I should get to know you a little more before begging you to take me again.” Everleigh said with a grin, tilting her head towards him so as to press her forehead against his cheek. Her chin lifted upwards and the soft slant of her nose caressed the shape of Erland’s jaw. Physical touch was still an oddity to enact for her and her movements were all at once awkward and pleading.

Maybe with Zael she could have felt more comfortable in figuring out how to touch and be touched.

Really I should be asking you your routine. Look at you, you’re massive.” Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers tracing over the contours before going to one bicep. “Believe it or not but I’m on the smaller side for a lot of female dreadlords.” Not in height necessarily, Everleigh was proud to boast that she was two inches above average. But when it came to width and hardiness, she knew she was lacking.

Erland Karr
 
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"It is not so bad," Erland said of her questions. "Most do not see me at all."

They saw him, but they saw what they wanted in him. They didn't want to look past that.

At least she had, and had not attempted to drown him in pity. She had earned some of his respect for that.

Everleigh drew a line of demarcation between the conversation and the rest of the night. Simple physical touch, always searching. He responded in turn, his large hand cradling her cheek and a low thrum of arousal deep in his chest.

Really I should be asking you your routine. Look at you, you’re massive.” Her hands went to his shoulders, fingers tracing over the contours before going to one bicep. “Believe it or not but I’m on the smaller side for a lot of female dreadlords.

"Routine?" he asked quietly. He did not quite understand the question, but he basked in the compliment.

"You are feared anyway," he observed, not certain if that was a compliment or not.
"Small means easy to pick up," he threatened.
 
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Whenever he touched her, Everleigh’s body was naturally inclined to lean into his touch, as if testing to see if he had really meant it. He had yet to pull away and it fed her deep, silent hunger to know that Erland was firm in his resolve. Whether it was part of his job or not didn’t matter, all that matter was that he didn’t flinch away from it.

I see you,” Everleigh agreed. “Warriors know when they see another, no matter the situation. Like seeing a long lost friend. And routine is your actions for keeping in shape. You’re big and strong, makes me kinda….” She trailed off unsure what she wanted to say but wondering if it were maybe his night-time activities that granted him his physique. It couldn’t be, although perhaps it helped? Everleigh moved her face from nuzzling against him, giving Erland a confused look.

She was feared, even if she was smaller than most. But picking her up because she was feared?

I guess it does?” She said, raising a dark brow. “But I don’t think anyone really thinks about picking me up in a fight. Especially if they think I’m poisonous.

Erland Karr
 
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He grinned back at her. Even through the language barrier he understood her point about recognition.

However, she had misunderstood his intentions.

Erland laughed quietly. Brawn flexed and he stood up in one easy motion, scooping her up with him.

She was light in his arms, easy to maneuver. Easy to hoist her around to face him, carried in his arms across the room.
 
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Everleigh followed through on Erland’s playful push, going from her hands and knees to her laying on her side. She took it a step further and rolled onto her back, looking up at Erland with a hint of a smile. It didn’t reach her violet eyes, a shimmer of melancholy showing her inner thoughts.

There was a ache inside her, not just from Erland’s hardwork that promised she’d be feeling some discomfort the next day, but inside her heart. Her stomach felt like a hard pit as she thought of Zael.

Can you hold me?” Everleigh asked softly, her voice meek and pleading as if already expecting Erland’s rejection to the idea. But she desperately needed it now, to be wrapped inside someone’s arms and close her eyes and pretend, even for just a second, that it was Zael.

Erland Karr
 
Can you hold me?

"Yes."

He had spoken plain words to Everleigh, when he had even been able to form them. This was particularly direct.

She would have regrets, or at the very least worries that this had been a mistake. Erland had seen that before. He didn't offer any advice, not now. She could talk it through if she wanted to.

He wrapped a broad arm over her waist and pulled her tight to his chest. Erland tilted his head forwards, his beard scratching gently against her shoulder.
 
It wasn’t as she had hoped. Erland didn’t sound like him, didn’t feel like him, didn’t smell like him.

But it didn’t make this uncomfortable. It didn’t make this bad. It was different than she had hoped and especially different from what she had wanted in this moment.

Everleigh settled against him, getting comfortable herself. She was quiet and hyper aware of everything once again. A somber fatigue settled over her as she fought with the eyes and smiles inside her head, chittering and chattering and challenging her. For every thought, every action, for even lying still against Erland now.

Despite knowing she was in this room with Erland only, she couldn’t help but feel like everyone knew, that everyone would find out what she had done tonight. Even people that she didn’t know would know about her and this night of hedonism and grief.

I hope this doesn’t cost extra.” Everleigh said, forcing a smile so her voice could sound happy. She stared straight ahead even as she delivered a small chuckle to follow after her joke.

Erland Karr
 
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"No," he said quietly. 15 1


Erland had one eye open. He could see her eyelashes fluttering. He could feel little ripples of tension in her form.

"You think...loud," he observed.

"You enjoyed. Rest. And see me again another time."

His life was a simple one. She had already told him she would die rather than live in his shoes.

She had probably been told it was a truly romantic act. A monumental event. Erland saw others people's problems through the lens of his own existence.

"Or talk. If you want to talk."
 
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Was it that obvious that she was fighting herself in her head? Zael and Liliana had noticed it before, the way gooseflesh would adorn her skin or the translucent hairs on the back of her neck and arms raising up. She could control her face just fine, hell, if she wanted, she could even keep the goosebumps in check.

But that involved lying to herself. Right now, she was too exhausted to do just that.

I don’t want to talk,” she mumbled. But she didn’t want to rest either, or she couldn’t as her mind and heart in a endless war. “I’m going to leave.” She was anxious, and the only way that Everleigh knew how to handle this anxiety, this overwhelming fear of feeling like all eyes were on her, was to do something that got her blood rushing.

Maybe she’d throw herself off a dock or sneak into a place she wasn’t supposed to be. It didn’t matter. As long as it made her feel normal it would do. She moved away from Erland, out of his strong yet gentle hold, and proceeded to dress herself.

I’ll see you again.” Before she left the room, Everleigh made sure the cloak covered her face, starting her personal walk of shame.



And she did come back. She didn’t know why, but when she found herself in Vel Luin once again, she had made it so her and the initiates would stay a night. The initiates didn’t mind, after all, it gave them more time away from the Academy.

She felt foolish and giddy all at once as she found herself back in the foyer. She felt guilty and excited when she was in Erland’s room once more. She was better prepared this time than when she had first come here. But once again, Everleigh found herself to be in the same position as the last time— nestled up against Erland, still trying to play pretend.

This time, however, she did want to talk.

What do you do when you’re not servicing clients?

Erland Karr
 
Erland had expected that she might rebuff him. He hadn't expected her to leave.

Propped up on one elbow, he watched Everleigh as she moved from the door. She looked back before she left. It lessened the dismay at her sudden departure and he offered one last smile.

When she left, he remembered that the madame of the house would put him back to work regardless of how much Everleigh had paid for the night.



What do you do when you’re not servicing clients?

If her last probing questions had set in motion any notions of escape, they had not manifested.

It was a difficult question to answer. He drifted through his days without thinking much about them.

"Drink, walk, talk to the others," he said. "Not allowed beyond the district fence."
 
That sounds boring.” Everleigh said plainly. She raised a dark brow at Erland as if waiting for him to say what he really did. She didn’t feel the need to remind him that she would rather die than to sit still like this. There was some silence between them, not the sort that Everleigh felt was awkward. Or maybe she was getting more comfortable with him. She brushed her damp bands off of her forehead, but in this room, and once again pressed against Erland, the air was hardly cool. “What happens if you go beyond the district fence?

Erland Karr
 
He frowned. It struck him that she assumed there was some magical spell holding him back.

Erland wished their was. It would have made the story less pathetic.

"Nothing.

"There are guards. I am not allowed to leave."

There were walls outside and through the town, with checkpoints guarded to inspect cargo.

The truth was, it was not his current situation that meant he didn't try all that hard to escape. The guards would make a noise, apparently they had magic to track him, but neither of those facts kept him here.
 
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Like before, Everleigh got up, twisting herself out of his hold. She really ought to stop asking him to hold her if she was going to get out of it after a few minutes passed. “You’re hot,” was her excuse, a perfect half-truth. Hands went to lifting her long purple hair off of her neck and shoulders.

If there’s nothing stopping you, can you come outside with me, then?

Erland Karr
 
He made a short, thoughtful sound.

"If we go far, they will think you are stealing me," he mused out loud. "There is a garden, at the back."

A client walking out of the front door with one of the staff was going to raise eyebrows.
 
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If I were stealing you,” Everleigh said with easy confidence, having gotten off the bed to already getting dressed. “No one would even know until we were miles away from Vel Luin.” She was efficient in dressing herself and was already beginning to tie up her boots, sitting on the chair she had sat on last time.

The garden will do.” She stood up, tying up her hair. It was messy but Everleigh could hardly care about her appearance right now.

Erland Karr
 
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He supposed that confidence was warranted. If a Dreadlord walked out of the front door with Erland in tow, would they even try and stop them?

He heard some small stories about the balance of power in the region. They were usually idle complaints, his job only to passively nod and agree. Erland usually let such things drift past his awareness.

Erland watched her, making a noise of protest. If she wanted to talk they would talk.

He stood up and stepped into some clothes. He pulled a loose sleeveless jerkin over his shoulders. The evening cold was still warm to the northman.
 
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