Private Tales Waiting For Something to Undo These Feelings

[Zaire]

Luella stiffened at the kiss on her cheek, that was… a lot. It was just affection, but the sort of affection that held an genuine care instead of intentions to just get someone into bed. But then, Luella realized that perhaps it wasn’t what she feared. Perhaps, as it was utterly apparent with the emptiness of the entire place and the way that the amount of space seemed endless, Luella could decipher the real meaning of the kiss on the cheek. Quacey was lonely. But not in the way Luella was. She had chosen solitude, whereas it seemed Quacey hadn’t. Or it was a product of something else.

Luella nodded her head, curious as to why she couldn’t leave. She could just walk out of her right now if she wanted, right? She wouldn’t know where she would be going but regardless… was there something holding everyone here inside? Did it have to do with those impossibly huge gates outside? Maybe he thought she couldn’t open them? But now there was a task at hand and she was certain that the least she could do was make a satisfying meal for them. But set out before her was different sorts of sugar, baking spices, and flour. A pale brow raised, rather curiously because— and maybe she was being sexist here— quacey didn’t seem like the type to enjoy sweets. Also, with someone as big as he was, did sweets even satisfy him? Wouldn’t he be hungry all the time?

Maybe this wasn’t going to be the best meal, or at least not one Quacey would hope for. She wished she had asked him what he liked to eat before agreeing to something like this. What if she made something that repulsed him? And then he thought poorly of her? Why should she even care what he thought of her?

Having been quite good at baking in the past, Luella decided that considering everything was already placed out before her, why not make something sweet? And if it was horrible, well, then the amount of shame she’d feel might surpass her losing in under a minute in a duel she so arrogantly said she could win. She tried to push that thought out of her head as she got to work.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Loneliness was a way to describe Quacey and his home. Both held relics of the past within them. Knowledge and memories lost to those outside their walls. To call them empty would be false. To call them full would be wrong. There was just much space left to fill and more living that could take place. Something Quacey had already begun to work on.

The lighting of the fires in the kitchen was quick. He had everything mostly set up already. His biggest task was just sparking the kindling with his flint. So it was not long before he was ready to move onto the rest of his home.

As he got to the doorway he would stop and turn his head towards Luella. "If you need anything just yell for me. I will be back as soon as I am able but most likely not soon. Large home to warm and light."

Then he turned and ventured off. He would need to go get wood from outside and likely split logs. Rarely did he keep a large stack of pre-split wood ready. He was not home long enough to warrant the action and whole logs seemed to keep longer and in better condition than split logs did. Perhaps there was no truth to this, but it was what he chose to believe as true.

So this was where he was likely to be for a rather long time. Splitting logs, transporting them to hearths and braziers, placing kindling, lighting, getting into a healthy place, and then off to repeat it for the next place. Stacks to replace the burnt wood was left behind as well. Tasks suited to the most humble of servants in other castles. But in his home it was all tasks reserved for him to complete.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

“It’ll be fine, go ahead,” Luella said lightly. A part of her had inwardly bristled at the idea that it seemed like he thought she needed him. But really, that was just her projecting. Because despite the bravado she attempted to display the majority of the time, there was that sense of questioning awkwardness that made her wonder if she was moving forward. A broad term, but one that meant growth and change in her twisted mind.

Alone in the kitchen, kneading away at the dough she had created, her thoughts began to wander. But they all streamed from one central idea of “what the heck am I even doing here?” Luella recounted the memories over the last twenty-four hours, thinking of how she had felt the need to go on a walk, and walk she did for hours as if in a trance. Then she came across Quacey, immediately lost to him, and requested a rematch. She’d ask him about it when he came back to the kitchen, she wanted that rematch.

But then there was the stream. And it wasn’t the nakedness that worried her, but rather those brief moments of vulnerability. She hadn’t given anyone that sheltered side of her, not her friend, Samara, or anyone else. She had said things that now she somewhat regretted, that she was unsure if she should had said or perhaps could have phrased better. Last but not least, the desire towards Quacey. Was it because she had been vulnerable.

The dough was fully kneaded— perhaps too much, Luella noticed a loss of elasticity which might have been her fault. That awkwardness settled within her once again, her looking around his kitchen, fully taking inventory of everything inside. She frowned, glancing back down at her ball of dough. A sheepish thought formed, a longing to create something that would satisfy Quacey, and perhaps even earn his praise. But what could she touch? What was she allowed to do? All of a sudden she felt a bit stifled, and wondered if she had already overstepped her bounds. She sighed, rolling her shoulders back and jerking her head sharply to the right, three pops sounding from her tense neck as she cracked it.

This was why she always brought men to her place and kicked them out immediately after the deed had been done. You can’t feel awkward in your own home, after all.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Wood on block. Axe swung down at the right angle. Wood split. Wood collected. Wood gathered into a large basket. Basket taken to the next hearth in line. Wood put onto log rack next to hearth. Hearth filled. Fire started. Hearth warming the room and castle.

Again and again and again.

Quacey was losing track of time fairly quickly. He had not realize how large his home was nor how long the task of stocking it for a guest took. But he hurried as best he could. The place was mostly cold this time of year outside of the few places he kept the hearths going in. Mostly his bedroom, his study, the kitchen, and the entryway. Those were all that mattered mostly. Because they were important to him.

But he wasn't alone right now. The young woman Luella was with him as well and she had already made it clear how she liked things bright and warm. So he was making sure no matter where she went in his home it would be bright and warm.

Eventually after likely enough time for her to already have most of her baking done or just needing a bit more time to finish he returned to the kitchen. If she looked at him she could tell he had worn himself out getting his own tasks done as quickly as possible. Perhaps even too worn out for her to have her fun with him later....

That was not the case. He just simply needed a breather and would be ready to accept all the attention she wished to give him. Strange how motivated one could feel simply by the promise of company for the night even without sex being part of it. A fact Quacey was beginning to feel was likely not to happen again. Surely once she relaxed her interest in more carnal activities would fade.

"My apologizes for taking so long. What can I do?"

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella had done her best to make something… but it wasn’t turning out to be much. At that moment she despised herself for failing to be feminine. And failing to be masculine. She couldn’t swing a sword nor could she make dinner— or anything that could be considered dinner. The dough had to rise, and that made her realize that by the time it had risen and would then be baked meant that her and Quacey would have waited at least two hours to eat some shitty tasting bread.

So why she was making cupcakes as a substitute she had no idea why. There was just something that burst in her gut that made her feel like if she came up empty-handed she was some sort of failure. And she was decently good at making sweets. The batter had already been poured into the container— she had finally brought herself to look through his kitchen because she also needed a container to let the dough for the bread to rise. It was finding this pan that had given her the idea to make cupcakes.

She was busy trying to make a suitable glaze or frosting for them since she felt the cupcakes would taste rather plain, and had whipped up something with a mixture of honey, cream, butter and sugar. The color was rather nice, and as Luella stuck her finger in to taste it, she enjoyed it. That was when Quacey came back and Luella blanched for just a moment. He was going to think she was an idiot.

“No, it’s fine,” she said softly, wiping her hands on a dish towel and glancing back at her pseudo glaze. She picked up the bowl and the wooden spoon she had used to stir it with and walked over to Quacey. With a hesitant smile she lifted up the spoon, a bit of the glaze on it. “You could taste this and tell me if it’s alright or not?” Luella said with a twinge of apprehension of what Quacey would think of her handiwork. “You look like you’ve been running around,” she mussed, looking him over. She felt guilty for that. Had her presence caused him to do many extra things that he didn’t necessarily need to do? Did he think her to be high maintenance.

“This probably isn’t the best time to tell you but,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat. “I… I wasn’t sure if I could use or touch certain things and so… i have dough rising but then I baked cupcakes… and this is supposed to be a glaze because I thought maybe frosting would be too… sugary.” Her words flowed out hesitantly, bashful. “I’m sorry for not making something more substantial… especially with the hard work you’ve put in.” Luella couldn’t look at Quacey when she said that finally sentence, taking a step back.

 

[Quacey]

The kitchen smelled sweet and like baking bread. Strange. He had not expected that. What he had expected was a stew or soup or something else simple. Perhaps not simple but easier to cook from what he had in his larder. When was the last time he had smelled either of those things in his home and it not from his own cooking?

The fae sat down and looked at the cupcakes she had made. He ate the frosting off the spoon as she continued on. Honey and cream. He loved both those. Had she somehow known?

"Please finish the cupcakes. I do not know if I can wait for long as delicious as that frosting was."

Quacey smiled to Luella. His stomach growled as if to make his point for him. He was starving and was looking forward to the sweets.

"I was. You mentioned you hated the dark and the cold so I made sure you could go anywhere in my home without fear of either. I hope you can forgive me for taking so long to get that done for you."

He looked about the kitchen to see what all she had exactly done while he was gone. It just confirmed for him that she had made bread and cupcakes. Things he already knew. The hesitation and bashfulness in her voice got him to look back to her.

"You are welcome to touch anything you wish, myself included." The fae would give her a playful smirk. "As for the meal, it is fine. You made bread and sweets. Those take time and effort. I really want to try one of those cupcakes and I can make us a meal to go with your bread. We agreed to cook together so it is time I upheld my portion of the work. Why don't you take some time to relax? Maybe explore my home if you wish."

The fae would eat the first cupcake as soon as it was ready. It would be devoured quickly and he would have a sad face after. One with a look of longing. "I should have savored it, but it was far too delicious. You are a wonderful cook Luella."

Then the fae got up and went to get their dinner ready. Potato soup and some meat with a cream sauce. He had everything he needed and it all should not take long. The longest part would be waiting on the potatoes and getting some of the saltiness out of the meat.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella wasn’t expecting praise, if anything, she was thinking that she’d get a polite thank you or a half-hearted smile, but it seemed that Quacey actually did enjoy the frosting. The corners of her lips tilted up ever so slightly as she averted her lavender gaze to the floor. A sense of relief overcame her and she released a breath that she hadn’t realized she had been holding in. Just as Quacey had asked her, she had nodded her head in response and began the finishing touches for the cupcakes, listening to him as he spoke.

“I’m not afraid of the dark,” she said with an indignant snort, before deciding to add “I’m not afraid of anything.” If one didn’t include commitment, failure, being a loser, not being good enough, not being useful, not being needed, and another few existential sort of things, that was correct, for the most part. Having witnessed despair and fear long ago, twice, Luella did have a large resiliency threshold. “But… I do like being warm so… thank you, I guess.” She finished, realizing that Quacey had good intentions. To continue scolding him would be impolite.

Luella raised a pale brow in Quacey’s direction. She could touch him? However she wished? He should’ve chosen his words more carefully, because she would make him regret it despite drowning in euphoria. She smirked back at him, thoughts of feasting on their cardinal sensuality together flashing through her mind. She handed him a cupcake, temptation urging her to see just what else Quacey was willing to devour. Of how lucky she was to be a woman.

“I’d rather be next to you.” She said, not realizing how her words sounded, but she went to go and pick up the cloak and scarf she had discarded while in the throes of her baking endeavors. “But I should put these back, right? Into your room?” Luella was going to wait but instead she grinned, mischievously. “I’ll see if I can figure out which one is your room. If I’m correct, then I deserve a reward.” Before Quacey could agree or disagree, Luella was out of the kitchen to search for what could possibly be Quacey’s room.

Despite a sense of wrongness deep within her gut, Luella was curious about Quacey’s home. It reminded her of her great grandfather’s, which her grandfather lived in. When he died he had passed it onto her uncle and father, who had both decided to unceremoniously sell it for a quick buck. Despite residing in autumn court now, she wanted that winter court home back. She’d buy it back sooner or later.

With thoughts of her future endeavors, Luella went through the rooms, checking each one out rather absently before pausing at one in particular. It definitely seemed like a bedroom, there was a bed in it after all. Also seemed less musty and more lived in than compared to some of the other rooms she had visited. Something in her gut told her this was it, and as everyone knew, a woman’s intuition was hardly ever wrong. She placed the cloak and scarf on the bed, and looked about, seeing a desk.

Luella valued her own privacy and so was usually quite good about respecting another’s privacy. However, there was a book on that desk that made her curiosity beat her logic. But really, the only curiosity that came from that book was because it just looked so out of place with how colorful it was. Luella went over, deciding to take a peak inside and was rather pleased to see her assumption was confirmed. It was a children’s book, but one never read to her when she was a child. Perhaps something newer? But why would Quacey have this?

Did he… perhaps have a kid?

The thought made Luella pause, and she then shut the book. This place was so empty though, perhaps this was just a keepsake. But, thinking back to her previous conversations with Quacey, he didn’t mention anything about possibly being a father. Luella usually found that those with kids couldn’t shut up about them. She took the book, walking back to the kitchen, unsure of exactly what she was feeling. A sense of bitterness? Or regret? Something she couldn’t discern easily, forgetting the multiple shades of sadness and it’s cousins.

“I wouldn’t have thought you to be one for bedtime stories.” She said when she entered the kitchen, holing up the book with the colorful bindings.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The fae had already moved to begin making the meal. A cupcake in his hand. As he went to take a bite he noticed something. The color of the frosting kind of looked like Luella's hair. He held it up when she had her back turned and compared. Yup. Both looked the same color.... And the shape of the two....

Quacey had a terrible thought best saved for later.

She had mentioned something about returning his things and a reward and was gone. He had just finished the cupcake so had no time to respond to any of it. He just looked where she had taken off for a moment. "What reward would you want?"

Best he focus on getting the food ready while his biggest distraction was gone. The potatoes were sliced up and added to a pot with a little salt he had to crush up. Rock salt wasn't so hard to come by in the Spine. Dice garlic was added and some water. Over the flames in his hearth it was left to hang and cook. It would require him to stir it every so often, but that wasn't so hard to do.

He got the the meat out and got to washing it. The extra salt was always a challenge to get rid of, but he was use to it. While it soaked in some water he got the other things he needed for the sauce. All of it prepared as the potatoes were being boiled. When they felt as if they were at the right level of done he added in heavy cream to the water, mixed it, and then added in some chopped onions he had cooked a bit in butter. Thyme was added as well to taste. All of it stirred up and left to warm and cook some more.

By the time Luella returned she would find he nearly had their meal ready and her bread had been removed from the oven. Everything was set up for them on the table. They could eat as soon as the soup was finished.

Quacey wiped his hands on a rag and turned to greet Luella. Her words combined with the item in her hand made him freeze up. A frown and look of extreme melancholy overcame him. He walked over and took it from her. He opened it up and looked at the pages slowly.

"I am not. This book has only been read to another once since I wrote it."

He closed it gently. A hand rubbing the cover.

"I wrote it for a lost fae girl. She was cursed to attract beasts and monsters. It grew stronger as she grew older. I found her, protected her, and returned her to her parents."

A pause. A long pause.

"This was how I wished that story had ended.... How I had prayed it would end...."

The large fae just looked down at the book. A slight smell of soup potentially beginning to burn began to fill the room. He showed no sign of reacting to the scent.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella felt she looked ridiculous in that moment, walking into the kitchen so nonchalantly with that book and saying something so sarcastic. She wasn’t sure what she expected, maybe for Quacey to admit to having children or to enjoying some remnants of his childhood. She had thought the book was a memento but she realized too late that this book was profound in such a way that it caused Quacey to obviously become so melancholy immediately. She instantly regretted touching it, bring it out here, and even for snooping around.

“I’m… sorry.” The words were unusual on her tongue, the feel of them long forgotten and so they came out rather stiffly from her lips. However, her eyes sparkled in that way that showed she sympathized with Quacey. And she did. Quacey didn’t need to finish, and while Luella didn’t understand the entire story, she knew that the ending was a good, happy ending that didn’t happen. Something far darker happened. Perhaps one of the monsters killed her when she was returned to her parents? Luella felt that only Quacey and other few fae could defend against the beasts that roamed in this realm.

However, despite being able to empathize with Quacey’s sad tale, Luella wasn’t quite sure how one went about comforting people. Especially now, that gentle softness to alleviate previous trauma had been lost when Luella decided to harbor only solitude and vengeance. But her mother always seemed to know exactly what to do, whether it was comforting her sulking daughter who had lost or her father who was drowning in responsibility.

She went to stand beside Quacey, leaning her head against his broad shoulder as her arm went around to caress up and down his back. Much like how her mother did before, Luella used her nails to glide up and down instead of her fingertips, she personally had always preferred that but she wasn’t sure if she had the same affect since her nails weren’t long and filed to a sharp point.

“You can only do so much,” Luella said, completely parroting her mother at this point. But what else was she to do? She hardly knew Quacey and unfortunately, she couldn’t have figured him out as well as he had did with her. She wasn’t inward enough to do something like that. “I should go stir the soup,” Luella said suddenly as the scent in the room caught her alarm. She left Quacey’s side then, going over to the pot and taking a wooden spoon to stir vigorously— as if she were whisking eggs.

“If… I mean,” Luella was back to normal now, that slight twinge of apprehension in her voice, confidence only a facade. “You can tell me more about it, if it’ll make you feel better. That is if you want to talk about it. Sometimes talking about things don’t always make you feel better.”

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

The actions Luella took made Quacey feel better, or at least less in his funk. So while she was off stirring the pot of soup, he took the book to a safe place it wouldn't be in danger of some kind of food spilling on it. Once secure he went over to get his rags. He came in next to her. A kiss laid on her cheek as he grabbed the sides of the pot. Then he lifted it and brought it over to the table.

"Thank you Cupcake. I feel better already."

He went over to his cabinet of drinks next. There was an assortment of liquors to pick from.

"What do you prefer to drink? Wine? Ale? Whiskey? Something else?"

After her answer he would grab the one she mentioned to bring back to the table for their meal.

"I protected her for two years as we searched for her parents. Eventually we found them, but it did not end as I had imagined." His eyes went over to the book and held for a moment. They did not avert during the pause until he began to speak once more and focused on Luella yet again. "She was not lost. She was abandoned. Her parents had abandoned her because they could not deal with her curse any longer. Her father's mind snapped. He killed her and then her mother in front of me. I could do nothing to stop it. It was so sudden and I was frozen in place, powerless to stop it. Then he took his own life after realizing what he had done...."

That melancholy came back for a bit. But Quacey did not let it stick as he had before. He began to get Luella's food served to her and would stop on the soup when she indicated she had enough. Then he got to his own.

"I did not handle it well. I lashed out at first but eventually isolated myself. I only ventured out in rare moments or when I felt he call to aid someone. I missed so much.... I missed my chance to have children of my own.... Only realized that recently and how much I want to have kids of my own to love and raise...."

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Cupcake? What? Did he call her… cupcake? Luella wasn’t sure if it was from him commenting on her baking or if he was trying to suggest she should lay off the sweets? Had he deducted that she may have indulged in too many sweets far too many times? Or… was he suggesting she was on the heavier side. Before she had time to open her mouth and argue with him and pick another fight over nothing, he was asking her what she wanted to drink.

“Water, I don’t really enjoy alcohol unless it’s… quite… sweet.” She looked at Quacey with a sense of conspiracy, was this a test to see how strong her sweet tooth was? Luella felt useless for the time being as Quacey got everything together. A part of her wanted to help him out, do more than just stand there and so she at least was able to search for his stemware. She couldn’t find it, instead just finding normal glassware. Well, she did say she wanted water and she was certain he could use one as well. She got water for both of them from a pitcher.

The bread had cooled just enough too so that she was able to cut large, thick slices, placing them in a bread basket and setting it down on the table between where they would sit.

“That’s terrible.” Luella commented as Quacey finished speaking of the loss of life and the loss of a happy ending. She knew better than to say ‘you should have just taken her and forgot about her old family.’ Rubbing salt in a wound was never helpful and Luella was sure that Quacey beat himself up enough over the fact already.

“I’m sorry, I’m not the best with my words,” she admitted sheepishly, and perhaps she should have stayed silent but she felt she knew Quacey’s story as if it were her own. Having something so precious and dear and then on a random Tuesday, everything was taken from you. Paralyzed from shock, from fear, from despair? Unable to move, or rather being able to move but everything moving so fast it’s like you’re standing still. She understood those things too, and so she spoke, the first time revisiting what happened to her family long ago.

“I think we choose solitude because someone else’s hand forced us to be alone. And being alone is terrible. Solitude is different, it’s just as forlorn as being alone and there’s that… inescapable malaise, but, it confines us because of our own choices. And sometimes it’s best to not have anything else that can hurt you. Or so you think.” Luella frowned, looking down at the soup and then shrugged. “I… could have interpreted your words much differently than you intended so if I’m wrong, well… I guess I wanted to comfort you the way you did for me earlier. But I’m not very good at understanding other’s feelings.” She took the first bite of the soup, her eyes widening at the rich flavor that coated her tongue.

It was hot but soothing in the way that hot, home cooked meals were. Luella instantly met Quacey’s gaze, a flicker of what she was before overcoming her features as she exclaimed: “this is delicious.” A youthful flush was on her cheeks, her full lips smiling with content as it was no longer cumbersome with thoughts of fiercely bitter irritation.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

What Quacey pulled from his shelf was a bottle of rum and a bottle of mead. Luella mentioned sweet and while he got the feeling there was something more to the mention he got her what she said she would want. He set them down on the table and got a fresh pitcher of water as well. Everything she said she wanted to drink.

His tale seemed to cause her to feel sympathetic towards him. He just smiled to her warmly and squeezed her shoulder gently. "I failed her. I could not see what I should have done and made a mistake that cost her her life. I have had to live with it for millennia and found some semblance of acceptance. Your concern was felt. You did a wonderful job providing me comfort. I will not forget it."

Something just felt right in the moment, so he went with his feelings. He leaned down and kissed her cheek once more. Then he got himself sat down with his own meal. He opened up the rum and poured himself a glass. As he was recorking it, she told him the food tasted good. A smile returned to his lips. "Thank you. Eat as much as you like. You are my guest so I will make sure you leave completely full."

Then he went about eating his own food. Company made it taste better than usual.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

“Hindsight is twenty-twenty,” Luella commented, not touching the alcohol despite the fact that Quacey had pulled out acceptable substitutes for what she usually went for. But really, at this moment, she’d prefer to be sober. Intoxication was a terrifying state for her, one that caused her enjoy herself too much which only made her upset the next day. “I think you compliment me too much on my efforts.” She added, but regardless if he was overdoing it, it was still quite nice for her to think that he appreciated it.

The third kiss on the cheek surprised her again, she still stiffened like the first time, but when she looked at Quacey a different thought was occurring. Instead of the slight apprehension she felt with this sort of affection, instead she felt almost a sort of dissatisfaction.

“You missed again.” She commented on it, her eyes shimmering playfully once more, hoping that her words were vague enough for him to play along into her recently decided trap. Luella even set down her spoon despite her greedy appetite, ready to spring into action.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

"Everything I said was true. There is more to you than you think Cupcake."

He was enjoying his food when she suddenly said something he didn't expect. He missed again. He had kissed her cheek and had missed again. Interesting. Should he play her game or continue on with his meal? His stomach was telling him to ignore the girl and focus on his food.

"I suppose I will have to aim better next time." He said with a smile.

Quacey set his utensils down and looked about. Got a frustrated look on his face. After a bit he stood up from his seat. "Pardon. I seem to have forgotten something."

Then he began to head towards the kitchen. But he didn't actually go into the kitchen. Instead he just walked a bit that way then came up on Luella. He leaned down and turned her face around. A kiss was laid upon her lips. It was not quick but lingered for a time.

After he broke away he said, "I forgot the sugar."

A smirking smile was on his lips. He retook his seat and went back to eating his food.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella was curious as to why he seemed intent on calling her cupcake. It was… well, most men nowadays wouldn’t have dared to say the least. She frowned though as he seemed to not catch what she meant. Or did he? Did he not wish to fix it? Or even have her fix it? She would’ve bold this time, or at least she had thought about being bold. She nodded her head as Quacey got up, going back to enjoying her food, about to scoop another spoonful into her mouth until Quacey surprised her.

Her eyes fluttered wide, despite her brief pause of surprise, lips pressing back against his before he left all too soon. Oh, so he did understand what she meant. And despite finally kissing her where he should have been, Luella admitted inwardly that she still wanted more. A part of her told her to hold back, after all, let the man eat first. But another part said that now was time to take what she wanted. After all, isn’t that what she did most of the time anyways?

She debated the argument inside her head a little longer, a blush creeping up on her cheeks as she ate her food silently. Suddenly, she got the courage to do it, not one thing in particular boosting it up, but Luella placed her utensils down much like how Quacey did.

“You missed three times,” Luella said, standing up from her chair and making that short distance over to Quacey. “You’ve only made up for one.” She had put on a brave face, her voice didn’t shake, but her eyes showed the truth: giddy butterflies dancing around, the fear of being rejected by this advance. She straddled his lap, sitting down and looking up at him, both of her hands on his shoulders. “I demand compensation for the last two immediately, and there was an interest added on.” She informed, pressing herself further into Quacey, tilting her head up.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Quacey's little teasing kiss had unexpected consequences. Luella had gotten flustered and was brooding over her soup as he enjoyed his own. His stomach barely appeased enough to stop growling. Then she spoke. She mentioned how he had missed again. Then she was in his lap. Facing him. Compensation was demanded. This situation had become... dangerous.

His hands dropped his utensils. Not set down. Dropped. They came to rest on her hips, gripping them. His eyes focused on her own. That hunger from before on the way to the castle had returned. "I better repay my debt then."

He leaned forward and planted his lips on her own. Passionately. His tongue passing between her lips seeking out her own tongue. His eyes closing. His hands slide over her rump and began to rub firmly. A squeeze every so often.

Whatever thoughts he might have had before were gone. He had told her how he would respond if she got aggressive with him. He made it clear what he would do if she continued. She knew all of this and had planted her perfect behind in his lap then demanded he do something. So he did. He did something. Hopefully she was getting what she wanted as all of this was now in motion. There would be no stopping.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella had known that doing something as brash as this would mean that she couldn’t step back. But she had no desire to do that, she could keep stepping forward tentatively or just dive in, and she had chosen the latter. Luella could feel herself soften at Quacey’s touch, once again feeling small and enjoying it, even if it was because she could only such a thing because it was Quacey. She still felt his aggression wouldn’t match hers, that it couldn’t even come close.

She closed her eyes this time as they kissed, allowing his tongue, thinking that was the most he was willing to do until she could feel his strong hands slide down lower so they could hold onto her rear. A soft, breathy gasp of outrage came to be as he squeezed the soft, curvaceous form. And yet, despite that initial outburst of pleasure she hoped Quacey hadn’t caught onto, she didn’t draw away from him. This moment of passion overwhelmed her, she felt the first buds of heat slowly begin to bloom inside her, and she didn’t want it to stop. She felt breathless despite her affinity to air, and while she could never be without it, Quacey’s mouth and the way he held her was more important than coming up to breathe. She wanted to drown in him completely.

But she also wanted him to be prepared for the night ahead of him. And so she pulled back out of pure necessity.

“Quacey,” her lips held a deeper color, her voice carrying an anguished breathy lilt. “I’m afraid I have an appetite for something else.” As she said this she tilted her head to place small, butterfly-soft kisses along the length of his neck. “And you should finish your dinner. I can prepare the bath for us.” Luella offered, whispering into his ear.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

As Quacey and Luella kissed, he became more and more aggressive with his passion. He sought more from each moment. His hands on her ass got rougher. He wanted her. As strange as it felt after so long, he truly wanted her. For the first time in far, far too long he could admit this. And he didn't know if he could go back or stop himself if he wanted to.

But he didn't have to stop them as she did herself. She told him to finish his meal and she would prepare the bath for them. All the while she was kissing his neck. He kept on squeezing and rubbing her behind. How soft yet firm in the perfect balance of the two...

"I will be quick. Will not wait any longer than I need to. I want you Cupcake. I mean it. I want you."

And so he would release his grip so she could get off him. But that didn't mean he was done with her just yet. When she went to leave he would give her ass a rough, forceful smack and squeeze. A smirk on his lips and a desire to never let go in his eyes.

He would eat his food as quickly as he could. He needed it, especially if she was going to test his stamina as she had told him before.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella blushed openly, after all, it wasn’t often that she allowed men to grope and fondle her. But not only that, it was the way he seem fixated on her rear, and more disturbingly, how much she enjoyed it. In truth, her lower body she had always been particularly sensitive of how they looked. Her hips seemed too wide, and while it did give her a lovely silhouette it always seemed to make her appear bigger despite being shorter than many people.

But while she was on top of Quacey, kissing his neck and allowing him to do as he pleased, the thought of being bigger didn’t occur. Nor did one of being dominant, of wanting to inflict pain and to test one’s restraint. Her desire was different tonight, one from her past, that wished to be adored and not be in charge. It was a scary thought. Letting Quacey have his way completely? She wasn’t sure she could offer it up so easily.

“Oh, I can feel how much you want me,” She teased, a slight rock of her hips before she got up. She was ready to run over to where she had seen the bathroom, but forced herself to walk. Due to that decision in being slow, she whimpered a small moan of shock before immediately clamping her mouth shut so no other sounds could escape her. She glared down at Quacey, her face turning red due to embarrassment. “Don’t think you’ll be hearing another one of those tonight,” she growled as threatening as she could, a hand sliding down from his chest to his stomach. “I’ll make sure you won’t last long enough for it to happen.” The blonde promised before sauntering off to the bath.

Despite her show of bravado, she was excited. Excited and afraid. That frisson coursed through her once again as she prepared the hot water, perhaps a little too hot for Quacey but comfortably warm for her. She made sure she had everything settled, and before even waiting for Quacey to make his way in, she started to undress eagerly. A hot bath. The fastest way to get Luella Balsinde naked.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

They were both done being flirty with their teasing. Now it was serious. Both desiring something from the other and not excepting no. It was passion and lust and more. A cocktail of emotions and desires clashing together. His hands upon her. Her hands upon him. Lips locked together.

...And then they had to break away. Words and actions exchanged.

Quacey was already thinking back on it even as Luella left to get their bath ready. Normally he held an unusual amount of patience. But not right now. Not with this. Not with her. He went over it in his head. How they came to this point so quickly. How it even began. Why it even began.

No answers. Just him eating his meat and soup and bread as quickly as he could so he could get to his Cupcake.

When he was done he joined her. As he entered, he found what he expected. A bath with steam rolling off the top of the water and Luella already stripped down naked. He began to follow her lead.

"How is the water Cupcake? Hot enough for you now?"

He looked to her. Studied her far too long.

"I have some dried herbs. Lavender. Wild flowers. Want to put any in the water?"

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

When Quacey entered, Luella instinctively used her arms to cover her, it was just a force of habit at this point. Even if she was the one who was being so direct, even if she had technically started this game of flirting that led to the most natural thing among fae: pleasure. Despite the frigid label placed upon her, which Luella did enjoy, not many could witness the depths of her desire and escape unscathed. Would Quacey be different? He had already told her how long it had been since he had bedded someone, and Luella found that many men couldn’t last long enough for her.

Well, if she won, then she won. Either way she could claim herself the victor.

Her hands went down to her side and she openly looked at Quacey as he took his clothes off, admiring his form. Hard work. Both of them had put in centuries of hard work and their bodies showed their dedication. Of course she would be attracted to him, he was something she strived to be. But that nickname….

“Do you not like my name?” Luella asked, walking over to where Quacey stood and folded his clothes like she had done with hers. Really this was just to tease him more, allow him to picture her bent over. It was also something more. More on her end, to test and see if she could be the one in control tonight. And if so, she wanted him to use her name.

“I would like to add the flowers and lavender” she admitted, standing up and looking at his eyes. “The water is definitely at a temperature I prefer. I don’t know if you’d care for it.” Luella added, making her way over to the tub and leaning slightly over the side as she dipped her fingers in, shivering. Oh yes, that was perfect.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

While Quacey was trying not to misunderstand Luella before, he was understanding what she was doing perfectly well now. She was trying to force a dynamic of one of them being dominate and the other submissive onto their evening together. He didn't personally care for there to be a dynamic. He just wanted to spend an evening with her because he genuinely liked her.

But he also knew he couldn't let her win. Her ego would be unbearable if he did.

So while he certainly did not look away as she bent over and did all her motions to physically tease him, he decided to set the pace of things.

"Luella is a lovely name, but I prefer Cupcake for you."

He walked over next to her. There were candles he could place to give them more light. They happened to be near where she was standing, so he took advantage of it.

"The ones you made for me were delicious. The frosting was made out of ingredients I love and reminded me of the color of your hair. I could devour them and still want more.... Like how I am feeling about you right now...."

He gave her a look. Not a playful or teasing look. One showing off just how much he wanted her. The first woman he wanted in millennia.

"Besides, this is a lot like a cupcake." He smacked and then squeezed her ass hard.

The candles were grabbed. He began to set them about the room in places they hopefully couldn't be knocked off from and would light up the room well.

"I will go get those herbs. Why don't you get in first? I don't think it will be hot enough without you in it for my taste."

He smirked at her then left the room to get those herbs.

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

She flushed at his obvious innuendos he was making. And while the nickname did start to make sense to her now, but this time she was prepared for the teasing. She made sure she didn’t yelp when he spanked her once again, despite knowing a red handprint would soon appear. She glowered him as he walked away, Luella couldn’t help but feel that aggressive part of her tell her to make Quacey pay. How? Who knew. But she wanted to do something to him that made him the feel the way he had to her.

“Don’t take too long,” she called after him, really quite looking forward to those dried wildflowers. It would make everything smell heavenly, she was sure of it. She then stepped into the bath, slowly easing herself in until the water comfortably came up to the swell of her chest. She breathed out a sigh of content, although her mind was already going back to Quacey. She’d get her revenge. But for now, Luella closed her eyes, letting the candlelit bathroom fade to black.

Quacey

 

[Quacey]

Quacey had no plans on taking long to get the herbs. They both wanted this. But when she spoke, it almost made him want to take a bit of time. A moment of defiance to tease her and play her little game of who was dominate. To make her wait even longer when she was so close to getting what she wanted....

He wasn't that kind of man and he wanted it too badly himself. His usual patience gone. Overcome by desire. How many millennia had he gone without feeling it? How many more was he willing to wait? The answer was clear to him. It was clear to her no doubt.

So Quacey returned. He returned to the room with herbs of lavender and wild flowers in hand. A sniff of their scent. Eyes closed. The calm of the void embracing them....

===================

His eyes fluttered open. Quacey found himself laying in his bed. Arms wrapped around the most comfortable of pillows: Luella. He was still tired and sore from the night before. She certainly made his wait worth it and his decision to end it even more so.... But the fidgeting and restlessness. She never seemed peaceful. Something he was going to find out about later.

Instead of getting up, he just wrapped his arms around her more snugly. Soft kisses being planted on the top of her head. His hands might have even begun to gently massage her and roam to places they shouldn't be....

Luella Balsinde

 

[Zaire]

Luella often strange dreams. Sometimes reoccurring but many times they were different. But the subject was always the same: failure. Remorse. Grief. Lost. Losing. They always seemed to end with her trying her best and her best just not being good enough. Ever.

That was no different even in the security of Quacey’s arms and protective embrace. If only she was like him. Her most current dream suggested that she could never be like him, ending with her being too late to aid him as a swarm of cloaked attackers separated them. They were on some journey. An important one. And despite her using every ounce of will, strength and speed, she watched him die as he looked at her with a sense of disappointment. If only she was stronger perhaps she could have—

Large, thick legged spiders were upon her, roaming over her body. Luella jerked awake, a hand instantly going to smack the spider that had settled at her breast. But there was no leather, blueberry-popping like feel of smacking away a spider— it was a hand. A man’s hand. Luella gasped, shocked, and was ready to leap out of the arms that held her or kick and squirm until they let go. Not a second too soon did she recognize where she was.

“I told you I have horrible dreams,” she murmured, her tense body relaxing as she placed her smaller hands on top of his. “Teasing me while I sleep? You scoundrel.” Luella’s voice held that deep huskiness of just waking up, mind still a bit fuzzy as she turned over to face Quacey. “Did you not have enough last night? I thought I tired you out.” She said with a smile, leaning up to press her forehead against his. She was not going to admit that she was tired.

Quacey