Private Tales The Lonely Hearts Club

[Asemir]

He'd quite enjoyed his time spent in those gardens. Kor Aren was rather bereft of things like flowers, being situated on the cliffs just beyond the eastern scrubs of southern Falwood. There things were mostly drab in color, and Asemir had never been a fae gifted with a green thumb. Kor Aren hosted primarily older, retired fae who had joined Dusk to find their quiet lives after Court. His home was secluded, peaceful, and calm. A nice garden painting would certainly sit as a center piece there.

"I can help with that last wish."

Words that drew an earnest smile from him, "Oh, good." One out of three wishes wasn't bad and if it got her out of her studio and into nature then all the better.

"Ase,"
"Mm?" a curious look at the tone, he was almost prepared to brace for yet another stinging question but...
"What wine do you want me to fetch next? And...is there dessert?"

He laughed, white caps of his teeth showing, and tapped the bottom of the nearly empty wine bottle at her hip, "No need. Bailit will be along shortly to clean up dinner. She can get us more wine. As for dessert," the boy brain in him begged to bob his eyebrows at her, but his mature and pragmatic self won out, "I don't keep much in the manner of sweets here. You know my sweet tooth is non-existent. Bailit might have something stashed away for-" he stopped himself from saying for when Midir stays over, "special occasions and guests."

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Ceilidh did know how nonexistent his sweet tooth was because she was the one who always stole his dessert. She had not had any desserts in so long and she was definitely craving something sweet. Perhaps a sweet wine would satisfy her craving, but she highly doubted that. She needed the real thing.

Her fingers that had been drawing designs were now writing her name in slow, steady movements. "Has this couch been stress tested lately?" Her voice was silky and as smooth as her fingers drawing her name on his chest.

She looked up at him with her sweetest and most innocent look. She wanted to kiss him again, but after his reaction at the party, she kept the thought to herself. At least for now.

 

[Asemir]

At this point the sensation of her fingers tracing the lines of black tattoos swirled and marked across his chest had melded into the ambiance provided by the evening. Warmth suffused his figure from the woman, despite her petite stature, and what little else that remained felt the radiating heat of the roaring fireplace. Cracks and pops, hisses and snaps, the dancing of burnt umber clashing with its own shadows sparked a lively chiaroscuro across the area.

Asemir sank deeper into the cushions of the couch and the tangy hum of wine through his veins. The bottle was empty with another short swig, drawing a faint frown from the man as he set it aside.

"Mm?" distracted by the mental catalog he was running on his current stores of wine here, the pitch from the woman draped over him sailed clear over his head, "hardly ever gets used. I think I may have sat on it in my stag form once..."

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Ceilidh could have screamed at his obliviousness. Maybe it was her, maybe she was just that bad at flirting after many millennia of not doing it with anyone but Traynor. It was either that or he was just that oblivious to a beautiful woman practically throwing herself at him. Throwing herself on him, quite literally.

Part of her really wanted to know what he was doing in the house in his stag form and why he was on the furniture, but the tipsy part of her wanted to close her eyes and enjoy the sounds of the crackling fire. She did just that and let her hand fall still on his chest. She was not tired, per say, she was sad and frustrated and needed more wine. Okay, she really did not need more wine.

Ceilidh opened her eyes and looked up at Asemir again. He looked like he was deep in thought and she only felt slightly bad about interrupting whatever those thoughts were. She propped herself up slightly and brought her right hand up to his face. Her soft fingers turned his face towards hers and her lips met his before he could ask what she was doing.

She really hoped he got this hint since the other had gone over head like a poorly aimed arrow.

 

[Asemir]

He was deep in thought attempting to recall which of the vintage wines it was that Midir had absconded with in his absence. The question of the couch's integrity had been but a fleeting thought in the pursuit of which of his brother's wine bottles he would return the favor with. The Erlking had, over his many years of living in a single home, amassed quite the enviable collection of rare vintages. Though Asemir had made special effort to move his own with him for each new home, several had been misplaced or given away along the journey.

There was that one Seurral dark red vintage he could recall with perfect clarity; tasted for the first time the night Midir had granted him his Title. Most wines were forgettable, but that one had stuck with him almost as persistently as his reputation had. He wondered if Midir had more bottles and, also, just how easily he could repay the IOU debt with-

There was a hand on his face, gentle as a meadow breeze, and then there were lips on his lips with the wafting scent of a floral bouquet in accompaniment. Suddenly the weight of the woman upon him felt farm from the platonic presence he had always known it to be, and it caught him in a strange state of curious desire and wary confusion. Asemir froze - he was not a man known for indecision. Fear was not an object. Purpose was his drive.

But ...what the fuck?

He felt Ceilidh pressing into him, shifting what had started as a warm smooch into something more. His body tentatively stuttered into a response - as if he had to remember how to kiss a woman for the mere fact that kissing her had caught him so completely off-guard. Asemir closed his eyes as the faintest flush of warmth scattered the remaining thoughts of wine from his mind in an effort to figure out what ... what this was.

"M'Lord how was the stew, to you and the Lady's - OH!" Bailit had buzzed in absently from the main study entrance and fumbled through the air as she rounded the couch to find them kanoodling, "Beg your pardon, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to intrude on you!"

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Ceilidh felt Asemir freeze and eventually he returned her kiss. She could feel his confusion and the tentativeness of his kiss made her want to pull away. She did not though. She deepened the kiss the best she could from her position and her hand continued to rest on his check. He was warm and familiar and gorgeous - even if he would not agree with the last fact.

She was lost in his lips when she heard Bailit come into the room. She immediately pulled away and looked down, red blossoming across her cheeks in embarrassment. Ceilidh wanted nothing more than to run from this room and hide in her home for at least a century. She could not move though, Asemir's strong hand held her in place.

"The stew was amazing, thank you," Cece said before she buried her face in his shoulder to hide her embarrassment. She could not speak and she did not want him or Bailit to see her face that would instantly give away her feelings.

 

[Asemir]

Dazed, still exceptionally confused on many fronts, and wallowing in the growing warmth of his wine buzz, Asemir blinked and stared in a lapsing moment of ossified bewilderment.

"Oh, yes, ahm, thank you so much! I'll just be, ahem, clearing this away very quickly now," Bailit zipped past the couch, her own dark-skinned cheeks a flush of rosy pigment as she began magicking the dishes back into the open and waiting dumbwaiter. "If there's nothing else I'll just-"

"Wine," Asemir managed after several slow and strong blinks.
"Sire?"
"Another bottle of wine, if you please Bailit. Sweet."
"Yes, of course, right away!" and she made a bee-line for the wine racks, thumbing by several until she found one of the few sweet varieties in its cubby. It was quickly delivered to the coffee table by the couch, open and ready for enjoyment. "My deepest apologies for the intrusion. If you have any further need of me please ring the service bell!" and the last spoon whisked into the dumbwaiter followed by Bailit and the door snapped shut.

Asemir loosened his hold around Cece's middle. If she thought for a moment he'd let her simply run away after that, she was sorely mistaken.

"Cece," he murmured low to her, pulling his left arm from behind his head to seek out her chin with his hand and lift her face up from his shoulder, "where was this going before we were interrupted?"

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

His strong hand on her chin pulled her out of her hiding place and forced her to look at him again. She studied his blue eyes and she could feel the flush still on her cheeks, betraying her completely. Where was it going? She wanted him. It had been so long since she had touched anyone, kissed anyone, been with anyone. Cece could have gone to anyone in the world and taken care of her need, but she had not done that.

She had come to Asemir. Asemir who had been her best friend, her confidant, her companion so many times when Traynor was away. Asemir who loved her, albeit as a friend, and respected her. Asemir who would never let anything bad happen to her if he had any control over it.

She now worried that he would reject her and it would drive a wedge into their friendship. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes for a second before speaking, "I want you, Ase." She had definitely planned to say something else, to diffuse the situation she had created, but her mouth was betraying today apparently. She opened her eyes again and offered him a small, embarrassed smile.

 

[Asemir]

In a perfectly sober state he was fairly certain this is where the conversation would have ended. Cece was off limits - or at least, that's how he should have felt, but the wine was bending his opinion on the matter. It was allowing him to see Ceilidh in a way he never had before: as something to desire and to have. It was ... strangely freeing for someone who had spent the better part of five thousand years desiring and having any women he'd ever wanted.

Asemir closed his eyes again, brow knitting at the memories that had changed him from those ways. For once it wasn't lead by the thought of Mab even if she had been the one to paint him with the majority of the scars he wore today. When his eyes opened again they were less uncertain. Instead they conveyed a guarded look of want as they passed over the contours of her face.

"Are you certain about that?" he asked her quietly, the hand at her back slowly smoothing up the low-cut hem of her dress while the fingers at her chin carefully traced down the line of her neck, following the thump of her carotid to the cusp of her throat, "I am not the man you loved and I cannot be him for you."

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

Was she certain? No, Ceilidh knew this could be a terrible idea especially if Mab found out that she had slept with her ex. She did not care though. Not in this moment with the wine making her braver than she would ever have been normally. Honestly, she had known what she wanted as soon as she plopped down into his lap earlier in the day.

His hand on her back sent chills spreading throughout her body and she seemed to melt into him even more. Her eyes fluttered shut again and she tilted her head back to allow him easier access to her throat. His words cut into her and she knew he was right. He was not Traynor, he would never be Traynor and she knew that. She had known that before she had kissed him.

"I do not need you to be him, I need you to be you, Ase." Her right hand rested on his that was still at her throat for a moment and then she entwined her fingers in his and studied his face before continuing. "The thought of being celibate for the rest of my existence sounds like a hell worse than death. I do not want to go be with some random man though. I want to be with someone who knows me and I trust."

 

[Asemir]

"Hmm," another one of those muted, pensive rumbles sounded within his chest, though this time it carried the deeper reverberations of something closer to a growl. Ase glanced to the fingers entwining with his own at her neck, the glimmer of delicate gold just beneath them catching his gaze. His eyes settled on the necklace, instantly recognizing it for the piece that Traynor had gifted to her all those years ago. He couldn't recall a time he'd ever seen her without it. As much a part of her as her long moon-colored hair, only now it sat as a stark reminder to him of the man she had belonged to.

He'd been perfectly content as an exhibitionist in his youth, but those days were long over.

"I have one condition," he murmured to her with a gentle nuzzle into her ear, pressing the tips of his fingers forward to carefully loop around the golden piece, "his ghost has to go. You can have him back when we're done. I don't share."

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

I don't share.

Asemir's words combined with him nuzzling her ear set her on fire. She removed her hand from his and touched the dainty gold chain with only a moments pause before she pulled it over her head. It took a minute for her to get it completely untangled from her long hair and she leaned over him to drop the necklace on the table that sat between the couches.

"Your condition has been met, Ase," her voice was soft and sultry as she rolled back into her original position. Cece could not remember the last time she had taken off the necklace. It had been about 8,000 years since Traynor had given it to her and even to clean it, she did not remove it. Now there is was resting on the table as she rested on his best friend.

She brought her eyes back to Ase and smiled in a conspiratorial way. "What should I remove next, Asemir?" She left a brow at the end of her question to add emphasis. She was quite sure she had never been this forward in her entire life.

 

[Asemir]

He was noticing the lines and curves that made up her figure now in a way he never had. With the shadows and firelight dancing across her features, it set each glimmer of jewel and soft gleam of alabaster skin into a reverently sensual light. Frozen glaciers drifted over gossamer and the shine of rippled silver as it moved before him, silently watching this curious transformation of Cece into Ceilidh: High Lady of the Winter Court, Muse of the Frosted Halls.

She, the marble sculpture of Desire made manifest as if by magic between his hands. Ase took in every detail with slow purpose.

"What should I remove next, Asemir?"

Already his mind was filling his imagination with scenes of her in various states of undress. For a moment he was but an unbridled youth, existing on the whims of his own wants, rushing every opportunity to sate them before moving on to the next. The hand on her back left the confines of the material of her dress for the exposed skin along her spine and followed it up to the base of her neck. He took hold of her there, a firm grip that held her in place to give him freedom to peruse the line of her jaw with his nuzzling.

"Nothing," he responded, brushing his lips along her jugular, "I intend to peel away your layers all on my own."

At his own pace. She would know best of all that one could not rush a masterpiece.

 

[Ceilidh Trahan]

The hunger in Asemir's hard eyes made her feel things that she had not felt in a very very long time. His hand snaked up her back slowly and moved through her white hair to settle on the back of her neck. His breath against her jaw made her shiver, but it was nothing compared to the thrill that ran down her spine when he told her that he intended to peel away her layers all on his own.

"I do not have that many layers, Ase," her fingers ran through his hair as her mind danced through the possibilities of what he was going to do to her. Somehow, he had only gotten more handsome with age and she wanted him all to herself if only for tonight. "But I am all yours for tonight," the voice that came out of her was a purr now.