Fanfic:A Life Apart

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Ambox warning.png This fanfiction contains explicit content. Reader discretion is advised.
A Life Apart
Author(s)
  • Crysthia (player)
  • Kenneth Edberg
Character(s)
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Third Encounter

The ambient light of the Unseen World did catch her eyes nicely.

An idle reflection in the midst of more macabre thoughts about the future. For the present, in which he lay with Crysthia Faedryn upon the bed in the M'Hael's chambers, it was a light distraction - a fine treat to behold in the aftermath they shared. Quivers subsiding, and the pace of breath slowing down both led to revelry in their shared dream; this rare if somewhat orchestrated reunion of lovers. Thrice over he had taken her to this bed, all three times in false defiance of the prescripts that held the Pattern together.

For unlike what Crysthia believed, Lucan din Nicander Riven Sail was not dead. Only else.

He propped himself up on his elbow and gazed down into her innocent eyes, and in them, he saw the key to his grand retribution. The path towards vengeance against the Light. In her belief of his current nature, he may plant whatever lies he found convenient. All in good time and measure, and in rhythm of the tune he played; this persuasive dirge of lost existence and love. He would make his ambitions hers, and she would carry his claim into the living world.

Oh, how she knows how to dance between the verses.

"If only I could feel as alive as I do with you, when we meet like this. It is like I live a life between the threads of the Pattern with you," he said to her and smiled, running a fingertip down the centre of her chest, "and we are blessed by the Light until I am reborn."

Crysthia smiled up at him for the sentiments but the words themselves saddened her. It was yet another reminder that he wasn't really alive. They had but these few stolen nights together, and who knew how long they would last before the wheel spun him back out. It would be like losing him all over again. Would she survive it a second time? Even knowing it would come this time she was not sure she wanted to live once more without him in her life.

"I pray to the Light that it is no time soon." She said softly, then looked away. "That is selfish of me isn't it? It is probably not easy for you to spend day after day here in this empty place, knowing you are not alive. How much time passes for you between our few meetings? Yet I could wish that you were never reborn so that you are always here when I need you. But that would not be fair to you, would it?" she gave a short laugh and turned back to him. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to spoil the mood, we have so little time together I shouldn't spoil it with silly thoughts."

At least it was after their love making, she really would have cursed herself had she spoiled that, though in truth she would be just as satisfied if all he did was hold her as she was with the other. She wanted to be with him, it mattered not what their activities were during the time they spent together.

"It is a peculiar situation we share, and prone do give us such thoughts," he said quietly in reply, and his fingertips played upon the flat surface of her abdomen, outlined the narrow dent of her navel. "As for how much time in-between, it was two weeks since last our separate spans of time coincided. At least from my perspective."

A lie, since he knew exactly how many days had passed since last they met. Yet they shared the knowledge contained within the 13th Depository, and they both knew things concerning the Unseen World that only a few Dreamwalkers might. Like the prescripts, for example. It was clearly indicated that time was relative in the place they were, and that the dead did not perceive it the same way.

The Fiery Serpent played his part to the best of his ability, and constantly fought the hazard of perceiving himself to be the woman reborn - who currently slept in the Novice Quarters of the Tower. Such thoughts were harder to fend off with each passing day, week and month. Yet at the same time, the opportunity to strengthen his self-image was right there in Tel'aran'rhiod; in how he - at night - was able to be the man he had been before, once again.

Crysthia served to assist him in that way too, as her body was intimately familiar to his own. As he kissed her, entered her, felt her surrender to each climax, he was able to remember the glories of the past. He was reminded of who he had been, and what he had lost. Ultimately, it strengthened his cause; his most dire retribution upon those responsible.

As he caressed her, his hand was suddenly cut in half - two fingertips missing against her skin.

Crysthia was hyper-sensitive to Lucan's touch, the slightest caresses eliciting responses in her body, so she was instantly aware when the hand which had been running across her belly were suddenly two fingers less. Not so odd really but the change made her look down and she saw the missing digits, as though someone had just sliced part of his hand off. This was not the first time this had happened when he was thinking about the day he died, but seeing it still disturbed her. He didn't seem to notice so she pointed to it, she hated visual reminders of that day.

"Oh," he said, an an arrow sprouting from the centre of his chest, two more from his limbs. "I am sorry, I was just thinking about-" The fletchings upon the end of the arrows... He looked upon them, an noticed something he had not seen before. Seconds passed, then his mortal wounds faded away, and all the blood was gone. A whole hand was laying upon Crysthia's tummy again. He flexed it to make sure it was really intact.

Her eyes went wide as the arrows appeared. That had not happened before. Involuntarily her hand rose toward one before she caught the motion and let her hand drop. She winced, thinking about how painful it must have been before he took his final breath. She shut her eyes briefly and when she opened them the arrows were gone, the hand whole again.

"What were you thinking?" She asked hesitantly.

"The Black Ajah," he said, and he used the opportunity to look bitterly amused, "they used fletchings like those upon the arrows you just saw, to serve as a warning. It was not frequently, but at times when the shadowsworn within the Tower wished to warn us of the Light, they chose to leave such a trademark. Commonly, they do not wish to be known of at all, yet for those who already knew, they would know when they saw an arrow like those who riddled my flesh before I died. It leaves me without doubt that my three assailants were devotees of the Dark One."

Behind the lie that spilled from his lips, he had realised that the Freak and his whore, along with the traitor of his heart, had cleverly concealed their crime by using such arrows for his assassination. Now, he would use it against them.

"It would seem it was my turn to ruin our time together." His pale grey eyes returned to Crysthia.

"I think I know how to fix that." Crysthia said with a grin.

She leaned up to kiss him, but she tucked away what he had said in the back of her mind. Every so often he gave her tidbits about those who had killed him. He had said before that he could not name them, and she would not press him, but perhaps eventually he would inadvertently give her enough clues to figure it out on her own.

Still she was infuriated that so many seemed to be involved in conspiring to keep his killers from her. Amora had buried the investigation, telling her nothing of what might have been discovered. Caden and Miahala had disappeared that night, and upon their return would tell her nothing save that the secret endangered the tower, and the very victim of the attack also would not tell her, spouting nonsense about prescripts and endangering the Pattern. Well she supposed it wasn't really nonsense, but infuriating none the less. It was quite clear the Black Ajah was involved, but the Tower was always in some sort of danger from that threat, why would her knowing exactly who was involved make that threat so much worse? She could not find any logic behind it.

Despite wanting to melt into his harms, and lose herself to his lips, the thoughts running through her mind would not let her enjoy the kiss as thoroughly as she would have hoped. She pulled away.

When she did, Lucan let a small frown of concern touch his brow. He had meant to slip his restored hand between her thighs, yet found that he would have to address whatever concerns she had first. As much as he might enjoy the fringe benefits of his plan for the mother of his child, he would not let the frivolities blind him to the import of her misgivings. Or rather, the cause of his to allay those grievances.

"What is it?" he asked simply.

"As much as I would like to run away from reality when I'm with you there are always those little reminders. It is probably for the best, I'm not entirely certain this is a healthy relationship, sleeping with a dead man in my dreams. Not," she added quickly. "that I want it to stop, but with each meeting going back to my sleeping body seems harder. I would almost rather die so I can remain here with you. Except there is nothing to say I would end up here should I die."

She sighed. There were other reasons she couldn't just lay down and die apart from not knowing where she might end up. There was her duty to the Tower, as always strong in her, though perhaps not so much as it once was. Then too there was Zulaya. True the child would be well taken care of should anything happen to Crysthia, especially given her potential in the one power, but it was bad enough the girl had never known her father, she shouldn't lose her mother too. Strange that Zulaya was almost an afterthought instead of her primary concern. Well the child was nearly grown now. Crysthia shrugged off the thought.

Lucan nodded slowly, meanwhile thinking about what the best course would be for the conversation.

"Perchance," he said, "the best way for you to deal with this rather... bizarre situation, would be to enjoy these meetings to their fullest extent when they come, and in the real world, try to take official actions that honours the memory of our real time together."

Crysthia's eyebrows rose fractionally. Oh she certainly wanted to enjoy what time she had with him to its fullest, but she was never one to completely lose herself to pleasures. One could not simply shut off one's mind.

"I was given to understand I should do nothing about what occurred. What official actions do you propose I take?"

"I am suggesting that, given how you now hold the Amyrlin Seat, there is nothing stopping you from opening up the investigation of my murder once more - starting over if you so have to. It might be perceived as your own personal agenda, and your decree to return to this matter might be frowned upon in the Hall. Yet what if you simply told people how things transpired from your point of view?"

His tattooed hand began to climb her abdomen, fingers walking her porcelain skin and soon entering the valley between her breasts. His pale grey eyes followed the path he took. "State how your predecessor dealt with the matter; how she kept the investigation from being official to the Hall of Justice and how it was buried prematurely without any statement as to the outcome. Was it wise to leave the Tower ignorant of the fate of their late Father? I personally do not think so, and I fail to see the reason as to why Amora en'Damier would chose to draw such ill favour from those demanding to know the truth."

His fingers reached Crysthia's lips, and he touched them so that they might open for his own. She split her mouth so enticingly beneath him that he almost forgot to seal his argument. "A cause for you to attend to," he whispered, "and a means to avenge us. Let it be known that the Tower does not compromise when it comes to Justice. What possible hurt would it be to the Tower if the truth would be known? Rather, I think it would stand stronger against all the lies and deceit that the Black Ajah undermines it with."

It was an odd conversation to be having with his hand wandering about her body as it was. Despite the seriousness of the topic her body responded automatically to his touch, arousal stirring in her.

"You won't tell me who did it, yet encourage me to reopen the investigation. After this many years I cannot imagine what, if anything, I might uncover. Whatever evidence there might have been is gone. Amora was thorough in hiding whatever was discovered from both the Tower and me, there is not even a scrap in the secret histories. Most of those involved have since left the Tower, I have questioned those I could."

Not that it had done her much good. Crysthia lay back and stretched to loosen muscles that had grown slightly tense. One leg lifted up and wrapped itself around one of his. She liked having her body touch his.

"You know, she apologized later," she said almost lightly. "Amora that is. Well no I suppose apology is not the right word. She asked for my forgiveness. This was when she was setting me up to be Amyrlin. All the years I worked with her I never thought she was capable of asking forgiveness. I think now perhaps it was part of her manipulations to get me to accept the Seat which she knew I did not want. Though I suppose she meant it, you know what with the oaths and all."

Her hand lifted to caress his check. She wanted desperately to know who killed him and why, to avenge his death to the fullest extent she could, but with so much seeming to wish her not to seek answers she felt caution was necessary. If she were to proceed it must be done so very quietly and carefully.

"I am no Blue to take up a cause and seek out justice above all. I will not make a fool of myself by insisting an investigation years buried be reopened. It might have made sense had I done it upon gaining the stole, but now I fear it is too late for such. Besides I think perhaps that somehow letting it be publicly known that I seek your killers would put me at risk. I have not been entirely idle in trying to find answers, but I think a quiet investigation is best for the time being. Unless, perhaps you wish to change your mind and tell me more?"

Foiled, the Serpent was still in good humour. For the suggestion that Crys would resume the investigation was but one of the paths to take, and Lucan adjusted his agenda accordingly. "You know the world of the living, whilst I do not," he said and chuckled before he lay his lips to her again, "I trust your word on the circumstances and the precautions you need to take. As for telling you more, you know as well as I do that it would not be worth the risk. To unravel causality and Pattern for the sake of revenge, that hardly seem the wise path to take."

With her closest leg on top of his own, the transition to turn her over on the side - facing away from him - was small. He pressed his chest to the curve of her back, and moulded himself to her - letting her head rest upon his lower arm. The other he wrapped around her, and hugged her close, so close that he might whisper into her ear.

"I suppose... that if I told you who my murderers are, these who stand above all suspicion..." he mused, with a tone akin to a man walking a knife's edge. He proceeded with his words cautiously, even though the kisses upon her neck weren't. "...there might be a reaction that is hard to tame."

As her back pressed against Lucan's chest, Crysthia marveled at how warm and alive he felt. She placed her hand over his as he hugged her to him. She concentrated on the words he whispered in her ear. Sadly they weren't murmurings of love but a continuation of their conversation. Really she rather thought he was making her point for her. If uncovering the truth really was so dangerous how could she do as he originally suggested and publicly re-open the investigation, but she said nothing, snuggling in to his warm body.

His fingers stole up to cup her breast, a thumb brushing the aureole, and his tongue joined his lips upon her shoulder. "What if I told you that the names might place the Tower hierarchy in danger, and order difficult to maintain?" he hinted... and his phallus more than hinted its presence against her. His fingertips journeyed from her breast down between her legs, nudging her knees apart. "What if I told you the truth is dangerous, and that the cost of Justice would have to be calculated in advance? Carefully controlled..."

"All the more reason for me to be careful and keep the investigation secret." She responded.

She was all too aware of his hard manhood against her. Light they had barely just finished and he was ready again. She certainly wasn't complaining, as his fingers moved between her legs, teasing her. His mere presence aroused her, but this close, bodies pressed together, she breathed in his scent, and thought she might go over the edge just from that. It was growing harder to concentrate on his words, though she had gleaned at least that it was possible his killers were in a position of some authority.

He lifted her leg a little, wet fingers around her lower thigh. At first he said nothing, so that he might brush his teeth against her shoulder. Though he did not revisit her yet, he made her womanly folds rest against his full length - the heat of her sex matching his own. "Your discreet enquires might have to result in equally discreet actions," he murmured into her ear, his voice thrumming deep down in his throat, and he began to move against her - sliding along her. It was so easy to make her shift slowly against him, her weight so small upon the blankets, and her so small in his embrace.

To brush so close, though yet to enter her, such suspense and anticipation he used whilst he spoke. "Lest you take precautions, my love, you might have a domestic war on your hands."

Crysthia moaned as he began to move, his erect phallus sliding between her legs. The anticipation built to a fine pitch and she itched to have it fill her.

"You can be sure I will take all the precautions needed." She said a touch breathlessly. "A war is certainly not what I desire, nor what the Tower needs."

Her own hand crept down, fingertips brushing her own sex before she trailed them along his shaft. "If you keep teasing me like that, you're going to have a war of another kind on your hands."

Lucan chuckled deep down in his throat. "As you wish, love," he said and gently removed her hand from himself, instead placing it behind his own head. He leaned over to kiss her, and whilst he sealed his lips to hers, he made good on his innuendos. His insistent caresses made her arch her back further, and he soon sunk deep inside.

-Fin