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Jul 8, 2023

God I wish that were me, and it’s pretty fucked up when you think about it.

Emma’s evolving opinion of Edred as she learns more about him through Melinda’s memories.

It’s smut. You degenerates have no right to judge me.

It hadn't taken long for Emma to come to grips with the fact that she'd be witnessing Melinda's memories firsthand, and usually against her will. After the first time, the young woman prayed that any events recalled thereafter would be considerably less traumatic. Given that Melinda had been battling an unspeakable evil for over a thousand years, her expectations were quite low.

Her preference would have been for the Sorceress not to recall anything at all. But Emma knew that was infeasible and perhaps cruel. Melinda had not asked for all knowledge of her identity to be wiped clean, so Emma knew she had no place to wish that it remain so. Given the circumstances, the best the young woman could hope for was that she never bore witness to anything too embarrassing.

Her naivete was laughable to the point of absurdity when she thought back on it.

The memories did begin to filter in. Little snippets of a life nothing like hers, but even without the required context, were at least things that Emma could understand. Meals taken with Merlin in cold silence. Tending to a small herb garden behind their shared home. Hours spent poring over dusty tomes and practicing a magic that had no actual name, at least one in a language that Emma could speak. She found those visions the most interesting, a natural curiosity overcoming her trepidation at viewing the recollections of another.

As she continued to play host to her irritable spirit guest and learned more over the course of their journeys, the memories shifted. She recalled fighting—too much of it. Emma, having lived in polite society all her life, had no experience or expertise in the Realm of battle. She knew enough to see that Melinda was good at it. Frighteningly so. Losing and failure were not words the Sorceress knew the meaning of. It was genuinely impressive, if in a terrifying way.

She recalled sparring with Seng and later Edred. The Monk had genuinely attempted to impart the knowledge of eternal calm onto Melinda. The best he got in return for his efforts was that the Sorceress considered violence a slightly less viable option in all her interpersonal interactions going forward. He took the win with no complaint. The large man would go on to become a confidant in all matters, spiritual and metaphysical. Melinda found her calm in the quiet introspection of all things beyond the physical Realm, and Seng, having traversed the Celestial Realm for a time that spanned the course of his life and yet multiple lifetimes, was amenable to sharing what he'd seen and learned.

It came as no surprise, and to her embarrassment, that memories of time spent with Edred began to surface—the embarrassment not as a result of their contents, not at first. Emma simply felt that something like tea shared between friends, and tea shared between lovers held differing levels of intimacy. It was best not to intrude.

She wasn't so surprised that neither the Elven Prince nor the Sorceress hadn't gotten along from the start. Melinda was used to doing as she pleased, with little input from others. For a man who'd one day be King, Emma figured such an attitude had to chafe, especially when the attitude in question was kicking up a ruckus in his literal backyard.

Out of everyone, Emma understood Edred the least. He was quite upfront about his dedication to quelling the Evil at all costs. His commitment to Melinda, while perhaps not appropriate given the latter's lack of memories, was admirable. It wasn't as if he could simply stop loving her because she'd forgotten she loved him at all.

And that was, perhaps, the one thing able to salvage Emma's less-than-stellar opinion of the man at the start. He was dedicated to the task at hand and loved one woman with every fibre of his being. His decision-making around both matters did leave much to be desired, but the young woman understood the Prince's innate desire for things to function as they used to. As he was used to.

Even Winston, bless his wonderful soul, had made some poor choices, all in an effort to remain at her side. Something that endeared Emma as much as it exasperated her. She loved Winston. She loved being around Winston. She did not love seeing Winston hurt or discovering he'd become a Werewolf when she wasn't looking.

Emma could not deny that the Werewolf version of her fiancee was incredibly adorable, but she might have had a slight bias. Maybe.

The pair might sooner die than admit it, but they had much in common.

In that, Edred and Winston were both very stupid concerning all matters surrounding the women they loved.

At one time, her mother told Emma the story of how her Father challenged six men at once to fisticuffs for the crime of.....just being there because he'd wanted to impress her with a feat of immense strength and fortitude. Emma recalled her Mother admitting that she had been impressed. That her Father survived at all. Emma was simply impressed that he'd convinced her to marry him even after that.

It was her opinion, then, that the closer proximity to the women they were infatuated with, the more ridiculous men became. Emma wasn't sure if the same worked for two men in love with each other. Possibly, since whenever Winston got together with 'The Boys' they inevitably did something foolish. She was pretty sure it wasn't the case for two women in love. But maybe they were just better at hiding it.

What Emma knew beyond a reasonable doubt was that Edred lacked any semblance of critical thinking in all matters concerning Melinda. At face value, the Sorceress ought not to have stolen the Prince's heart at all. But Emma knew otherwise.

The memories trickling through her and Melinda's shared consciousness were notably more vivid where Edred was concerned. Even those that displayed just how rocky their initial relationship had been. Melinda yielded to none, and Edred faltered for nothing. Their clashing was inevitable, explosive, and on occasion downright violent.

Emma could not for the life of her understand just how two people so in love would come to blows. Even at his most Feral and bloodthirsty, Winston could not bring himself to harm the women he recalled as his Fiance. And so to see Edred and Melinda draw each other's blood over petty disagreements was madness.

It was madness, and it was of the kind Melinda did not want to rid herself of.

She could not recall a time wherein her blood was made to boil so intensely. The Prince was pompus and insufferable. He was unwavering and courageous. He was pretty strong,, and she liked that.

Edred had no magic to his name. It all resided inside his blade Twillion. The Elven Prince, as Emma, had long come to learn, was just very, VERY stubborn. It was quite possibly the reason nothing had killed him yet. She'd watched him get thrown headfirst through four different buildings of varying sturdiness and called it a minor inconvenience. The man didn't seem interested in dying and so wouldn't. She guessed that made him a perfect match for the woman who could kill anything.

Even in defeat, Edred retained his pride. Back then, Melinda had found it puzzling that a man could be laid so low and not weep. She'd seen it a thousand times before. And so for the Prince to concede his utter defeat at her hands and yet exude dignity was all sorts of baffling.

"You have beaten me soundly, and I have been made to kneel. Victory is yours and well deserved. " The deep timbre of the Prince's voice was not lessened even as he kneeled in the dirt at her feet. The sound was enough to rattle her bones like a roll of thunder. Clear and utterly unwavering.

She met his gaze and saw no despair therein. Disappointment, but perhaps more with himself than her. Tiredness, yes. He'd fought hard. Even in outmatching him, Melinda's entire body ached. Wonderfully so. The Sorceress did not know the last time that'd happened. In the Prince's eyes, she saw acceptance, though not sadness. Melinda did not expect fear from a man such as him. But she was prepared for disgust. A monster. Cursed. That is what she was. And that is all that she would ever be. Edred had tasted of her power, and for a man so committed to bringing light and order to his Realm, he would surely hate what she truly was.

And so when she looked at him and saw admiration and no small amount of awe, Melinda was more confused than she'd ever been in her life.

If the Prince noticed, he spared her the embarrassment of saying so. Instead, he came to his feet slowly. He hid his pain well, but Melinda noticed his jaw's subtle tensing and brow furrowing. Her heart twinged at the sight, and she realized then that she did not like to see him hurt. It was quite baffling. Because Melinda typically didn't mind hurting others. She didn't necessarily ENJOY it. But she certainly didn't care that she did either.

"You are truly formidable. I am in awe of your strength, Melinda." The earnestness in the Prince's voice was tempered by a lifetime of delivering orders. His words were not mere opinions. They were immutable facts.

The Sorceress was beginning to wonder if Edred did indeed have magic. The kind confused others and made them feel odd. If he did, then she was going to be extremely upset. He was legally obligated to inform her of any and all magical capabilities at the start of their duel for legal purposes naturally.

Whatever the case. Whatever his magic, it had been the Prince who'd come away victorious that day. Because as she reached out to take his offered hand and marveled at the man's sure grip while shaking it in a show of good sportsmanship, Melinda realized something.

Melinda realized that she was terribly, awfully, horribly in love. She'd been had.

Emma found great amusement in Melinda's confusion in frustration at that realization. Not out of malice. But at the thought of such a volatile and opinionated woman being rendered speechless upon realizing that she liked a man who'd she just beaten to within an inch of his life. The entire situation was absurd in ways that the young woman could have never imagined.

The confusion she could at least sympathize in. Emma herself had been confused by her own feelings concerning Winston. A boy turned man who'd been a permanent fixture in her life from childhood. It had seemed strange to think of him in such a manner. Almost wrong. But even that would not still the rapid beating of her heart whenever she laid eyes upon him from then on.

Melinda was no different. Although she was unlike Emma in that when the feelings became too much to bear, she'd settle the matter by punching Edred in the face. It had initially been her hope that if she disfigured him enough, he wouldn't be so horrifically good looking, and she'd be able to get a grip. That, of course, had not worked.

This confusion and frustration probably greatly influenced Melinda's denial of remembering Edred's fateful wedding day. She was still quite sore at him for the boat incident, for which he had yet to apologize. But compounding that with the realization that, yes, she had at one point loved the Prince. And that, yes, she'd let him stick his tongue down her throat not long after watching his wedding fall into shambles; Melinda decided that she was not ready to open that can of emotional worms just yet.

She knew intrinsically that her denial had hurt him far more deeply than she could ever know. Yet his love did not seem to waver. At the moment of what they'd presumed to be their parting, he'd held her so close yet so carefully. He'd been warm and solid, and upon resting her hand on the back of his head, she'd found his hair to be delightfully silky. The urge to run her fingers through it arose within her unbidden.

The woman that was both Melinda and Emma had realized then that she rather liked being held by Edred. And that even if her mind was unreliable and she could not remember the Prince, her body did, and it would not allow her to ignore that.

That didn't stop her from trying her best anyhow.

It was odd watching the development of a relationship built on a mutual desire for violence into a romance spanning centuries, especially when one-half of the equation was avoiding the subject altogether. If not out of the awkwardness the discussion would bring, then at least out of care for the men fighting over the souls of their individual lovers trapped in one body. Neither Edred nor Winston seemed ready to give up on their respective loves just yet, and acting upon one set of memories to completely disregard the other would have been incredibly cruel.

Irritating as the Elven Prince may have been at times. Emma had come to care for him, even to respect him. The man had stepped away from a throne all for the express purpose of fighting Evil, yet he'd ensured his people would be looked after. A self-imposed exile that only a few would know the truth of. All from a desire to do the right thing, difficult as it may have been. Emma realized it was like something out of one of her many fantasy books. However, the main character grated on the nerves from time to time.

She could not love him as she loved Winston, obviously. But the man had loved and had been loved. He was still loved based on what she'd seen in interactions with his family and subjects. And he continued to love even when it hurt him. Emma may have liked to see the Prince riled up occasionally. He made some genuinely hilarious faces when he was, and she had an ongoing mental checklist of every different one. But he did not deserve to be sad, and she admittedly didn't like it when he was.

Would she ever tell him as such? No. Because of the Boat, which she had mostly forgiven him for since she didn't like holding grudges, and because Melinda was happy to give him trouble for it in her stead.

Despite knowing how Melinda loved the Prince and how she had come to love the Prince, Emma had been able to at least keep a clear line between her love for Winston. And Melinda's love for Edred. Some things may have become muddied from time to time. But in all, it was pretty easy, given that before the entire ordeal in the church, Emma had never seen a person whose skin was blue in her whole life. So that distinction made things simpler.

The young woman remained detached, though interested in seeing how the Prince and Sorceress developed a relationship built on mutual care and trust and maybe a little bit of bloodshed now and again for fun.

The pair did many of the same things that she and Winston did together—going on walks to enjoy the fine weather and engaging each other in conversation on all manner of subjects over tea. Sitting in gardens in companionable silence, merely happy to be in the other's company.

The last one Emma was a bit jealous of. The Royal Gardens of Edred's home were far grander and much more beautiful than any she'd seen in London. Perhaps when things were done, and over with, she'd be allowed to see them as just Emma. Surely they'd let her after helping to save the world. And if not, then she was more than happy to blackmail Aelwulf, who donned the skin of his Elder brother to be King while Edred was out hitting things with his sword. Emma felt that she'd earned the right after all she'd been forced to put up with.

Visions in which she spent time with Edred were soft and tender. They were filled with a warmth Melinda had long forgotten and that Emma had never lacked. After seeing how the Great Evil came to be and how it impacted Melinda's life and her relationship with her Father, Emma was happy to know that the Sorceress had come to know joy and love again.

She wished she hadn't been so happy. If she could go back in time, Emma would have done everything possible to ensure that Melinda never recalled liking Edred. Because, as it turned out, the man was downright disrespectful on an unprecedented level.

Handholding, brief kisses, and tender embraces were all the physical intimacy that Emma was familiar with. She knew that there was more to be had. If not from her studies, then from the racy novels she read under the darkness of night beneath the covers of her bed. It was expected that such a threshold would be crossed on her wedding night alongside Winston. She'd been too bashful to broach the subject with him before, and he, her. Looking back, Emma wondered if he thought about it at all. If he knew at all what she'd come to find out. For the sake of his sanity, she hoped not.

Her recollections of kissing Edred were quite varied, but the one consistent factor was that they were overwhelmingly intense. Edred had kissed Emma. Unknowingly on his end because he was expecting someone entirely different. It had been brief yet far too long for Emma's liking. The Prince held her as if she were a lifeline keeping him tethered to the world of the living. His kiss was not the sweet and careful kind she'd come to know and cherish from Winston. No, Edred's manner of kissing was something else.

His tongue entered her mouth immediately as if it were expected to be let in without issue. His teeth clashed with hers momentarily, and his lips were quite rough. It was unseemly, the way he seemed to devour his presumed lover's mouth with no care for who was watching. It was reprehensible how he groaned low in his throat when his tongue slipped past her teeth to stroke at her own. It was blasphemy plain and simple.

It was electrifying.

Emma, or perhaps Melinda, or maybe someone else had conjured the magic to push Edred away. He was sent skidding across the wooden stage, yet she could not muster enough strength to harm him outright, even in her outrage. He'd been confused at first, then concerned. And then hurt. That had been the hardest part for Emma to contend with. The hurt in his eyes. The way Edred kissed her, the woman who should have been Melinda, was scandalous. It was the kind of kiss laid upon some hapless woman by a dashing rogue in one of her books. Hungry, fervent, and unapologetic in its desire.

It was the kind of kiss the man in question would not apologize for. He would be smug about it. He'd act as if he'd been owed it. And the unfortunate woman who'd found herself as the object of her affections would yell, stamp her feet, and perhaps strike him if she felt bold. And the man would laugh. He would brush it off and go about his roguish and infuriatingly charming way.

The care in Edred's expression and in his voice set Emma off kilter. He'd kissed her like a common scoundrel, and yet when it became clear that his love was not receptive, the Prince in him rose, apologetic and concerned. Emma hadn't known how to feel back then. Melinda was used to Edred's manner of affection. She surely understood how the man was able to put forth such a well-mannered front and yet devour her alive if given the opportunity.

The implications were more than Emma had been prepared for at the time, so she'd brushed the man off and tried to forget the entire ordeal even though her lips would tingle at the mere thought of the incident. Such behavior was unbecoming, and perhaps giving Edred the cold shoulder in that regard would help him to realize that.

Emma was eventually forced to concede that there was no helping Edred. He'd been unsavable long before she'd even known him.

Recalling the fateful day of what should have been Edred's wedding, if only briefly, was a stark reminder of that. The Elven Prince was, quite simply, used to receiving more than discrete kisses or hugs that went on for longer than was socially acceptable. Something that Melinda had also been used to, and so both readily supplied the other. That thing left for the books proper ladies did not read. That thing which loomed over her head the close she got to her wedding. That unknowable, terrifying, and utterly exhilarating thing not spoken about in polite company. The world's best-kept secret.

Edred had been used to that and still more. He was used to it and still hungering for it if she had to guess.

He never did anything that would cross the boundaries of indecency. He touched her only when necessary, usually to ensure she was uninjured. He gave her all the space she asked for and even beyond that. Edred was still a Prince and acted as such when respecting Melinda's physical boundaries. He couldn't quite keep his mouth shut, but nobody was perfect.

Yet more than once, she'd felt his eyes upon her. He didn't leer at her like some drunkard on a street corner. His eyes did not roam where they had no business to. No, Edred looked at all of her at once. He took in the whole of Melinda and regarded his lover as if she had no business hiding from him. Edred did not want something from her. He outright expected it, though the words never crossed his lips.

It was worse than if he'd been giving her unwanted stares like a pervert on the tram. Edred's stare implied that his expectations had always been met. That denial, while possible, stemmed not from maintaining propriety but from a deep understanding of his partner's specific moods and needs.

Edred knew Melinda in ways that could not be put to name. And it was clear that she knew him in the same way. Emma wasn't quite sure what to do with this information. That a man could be so respectful and yet so incredibly impolite. And a Prince too! Just what the hell was going on with him?

A valiant effort was made to forget the first kiss and that memory from the day of Edred's wedding. The implications were not something she had any business openly considering. Especially when the woman that was both Emma and Melinda didn't even have time to pursue romantic entanglements, much as both halves may have liked to at one time. It was easy to do when she spent each day either fighting for her life or roughing it in the wilderness as they were drawn from one place to the other on the trail of their quarry.

The land of sleep was not so kind.

In dreams, the mind was free to do as it pleased. And in dreams, the mind was wont to show a person things deeply buried. Initially, they were just a confusing amalgam of unimportant events in both Emma's and Melinda's life. Going to the market. Reading in a dusty library. Reality, as it was. Usually dull.

Then there came a dream that was too vivid and too defined to be anything but a memory. A memory in which pale hands pressed insistently against the hard expanse of a blue chest. A memory in which Emma bit back moans and sighs in a voice that wasn't hers. And her hips moved to the rhythm of a dance that she'd yet to learn.

That was when Emma knew that she was officially in trouble.

Of all the things that she could remember in full, it had to be that. Nights spent tangled in vibrant red sheets. Sordid meetings deep in the woods where only the trees bore witness to what they did. A smaller, less ornate bed in a cozy cottage. No less warm and emitting a shrill wooden creak as the occupants expressed their desire for each other.

Giving Edred the cold shoulder didn't become the morally correct thing to do. It was imperative to her very survival. Looking at him for too long would surely see her bursting into flame. Especially if he was to look at her in return, look at her like that.

That look. A ravenous hunger reigned in only by his partner's consent; propriety be dammned. The moment Melinda expressed an interest, nothing on earth or off it would keep Edred from her. More than once, one of their trysts met an untimely interruption. And more than once had Melinda been forth to calm the man's rage towards who or whatever dared to try and pull him from the arms of his love. It was comical, really. The woman who'd been known for her open hostility would be the one to soothe another and douse the flames of their ire.

The words that she whispered in his pointed ear. The promises that she made. Things she could not recall saying, or even wanting to say were delivered in honeyed tones as Melinda brought Edred down from his fury. Telling him that there was no need to worry. She would wait for him. She would always be ready and waiting for him. Then she would nip gently at his ear, and Edred would shudder and sigh, knowing that once again she'd bested him.

He was always quick to collect on those promises. And she, in turn, loved to fulfill them. It was to her outright shame that these were the times that she looked forward to the most. When Edred would be irritable and frustrated at being denied that which had been so close. That, which Melinda had been so happy to give. He was the Prince of the Northern Elves, and his grace could only extend so far. His hand having been forced, Edred simply resolved to take what was his by right.

Her flushed face was buried into a silken pillow, not out of shame. There was not an ounce of shame here between the two of them. No, she needed to stifle the noises coming from her lest she wake the entire palace. Her Prince would have none of it.

Strong fingers wound themselves through ebony tresses and tugged gently but insistently. It was an order, not a suggestion, and Melinda complied readily.

The moment the pillow was released from clenched teeth, a sob was ripped from her throat as Edred's hips thrust forward pointedly. Melinda felt the air in her lungs practically evaporate at the feeling of being filled by her lover. He growled. It was a low and dangerous sound. One that brooked no room for disobedience or argument.

"You are not to hide yourself from your Prince." He snarled, his hips snapping forward again and pulling a whine from the Sorceress' lips.

"Not your body. Not the sounds that you make. None of you is to be kept from me." He punctuated each statement with a powerful thrust that left Melinda reeling. Heat suffused her body, and she rolled her hips, pushing back against him in an unconscious effort to obey words.

"Answer me." He demanded in a rough voice, the pleasure of Melinda's moist heat making it impossible for Edred to retain composure. Every inch of the Sorceress kept him enthralled. The Prince was a willing servant to the desire she stoked within him and readily answered its call if she so much as beckoned him.

"Y-yes....My Prince...." Melinda spit out a stuttering breath as the heat pooling in her belly grew ever hotter.

"Good girl." He purred. And at his words, Melinda fell into oblivion.

Honestly, that was probably the worst part. Bad enough that she couldn't even look him in the eye anymore. But did Edred have to be so damn vocal? Did Melinda? Apparently, for a woman of little words, she had a lot to say where Edred was concerned.

It was positively maddening how suddenly certain words and phrases were sullied by the new knowledge of just what kind of man Edred was. Emma wished that she could forget the English language. Not that it would help her. At his most excitable, the Prince would slip into what Emma could only presume was his native language. It was a flowery, pretty language. And he ruined it by being a complete degenerate.

And Melinda let him! She went along with it. Despite her embarrassment on the matter and refusal to admit her willingness to engage with Edred's foolishness, the Sorceress was partly responsible for enabling him. She pretty much rewarded him for it.

"Good girl."

"That's it. Move for your Prince."

"Stars, you clench around me so sweetly."

"Mine. Forever...Mine."

Did she have to feed his ego while they were at it? Answering his arrogance with blissful sighs and pleasure-filled moans. Wrapping her limbs around the hard bulk of his body to draw him closer, deeper. She allowed him to command her. Mark her. Sporting a collar of bruises around her neck left by his teeth. His eyes always seemed to find them in the act. Looking satisfied with his work. Content.

The worst came when Edred would meet her eyes. Just as Melinda was not allowed to hide herself from him, the Prince could not hide himself from her.

His gazes were utterly ridiculous in how much they conveyed with no words. Edred bared the wanting of his heart, body, and soul. Melinda read what was there. Dominance. Ownership. Obsession strong enough for a man to forsake everything if it meant spending a moment in his lover's presence. It was there too. Love. Desire and Lust clashed at the forefront. But the sheer intensity of Edred's love for Melinda was inconceivable.

Emma thought that the Prince's affection for the Sorceress contradicted his actions. He was rough. Demanding. He left marks upon the expanse of her skin as if she were his property.

Yet he held her tenderly after the act was done. Cleaning her, tending to her wounds if he got too rough. He was always apologetic about the soreness she would feel in the morning. He'd bring her water and food. He'd wait patiently until she had her fill before eating, even outside the bedroom. The Prince clearly did not separate what happened there from his day-to-day life.

Edred demanded much from Melinda in the field but never more than what he knew she could handle. The Prince was more than aware of her capabilities. He expected of the Sorceress the exact behavior of a woman befitting her skills.

Perhaps that was why he indulged her so. He never left their meetings unscathed. Proudly bearing the fearsome scars left on his back and chest by Melinda's nails. What she wanted, he did not deny her. Melinda's Prince was an enigma. So, so willing to take. Yet even more willing to give. He demanded, and she allowed it. He marked her, and she seemed to enjoy it.

He kneeled gladly when she commanded it.

"Oh, I'm so glad that I chose this color. It looks good on you."

Melinda stood over the Prince as he knelt in front of her. His head was down, silver hair curtaining around his face. The pale moonlight color of his hair and the noble blue of his skin contrasted beautifully with the silk, crimson ribbon crisscrossed over the expanse of his body. The Sorceress admired her work silently, pacing a circle around the bound man predatorily.

Her fingertips ghosted over the breadth of his shoulders as she passed behind him. The action drew a shudder from Edred, and well-defined muscles twitched in anticipation. He could not see her, not with the blindfold of the same cloth and color as the ribbon entrapping covering his eyes. But he could still hear her. Melinda's steps were evenly paced. Her breathing was purposeful. If the Sorceress was at all affected in the same manner as Edred, she did not reveal it.

The Elven Prince let out a shuddering breath, trying to control the boiling of his blood. It wasn't easy. He was at her mercy, just like that first battle so long ago. Made to kneel and only too glad to do so before a woman of her caliber. The anticipation in the air he could almost taste on his tongue. Edred was desperately in awe of the power Melinda had over him. His body, his mind, his heart. It was all hers to command. It was hers by right, and she deserved all the Prince had to give her and still more beyond.

Edred nearly whined as a soft hand brushed across his jaw to tilt his head back. He could not see her, though he wanted to. So badly did the Prince want to look upon the beauty that owned him.

"Please...Please let me see you." Edred begged in a hoarse whisper. He swallowed thickly. Though he'd always been eloquent, his voice failed him when it came to describing just how much he needed Melinda. He trembled, and a lump formed in his throat.

Melinda answered his plea. She knew just how intensely Edred could feel. The unflappable stoicism presented to his Kingdom was necessary to retain order and peace. But the Sorceress had learned that the Prince often longed to release composure. To simply be. Whether kneeling or forcing others to kneel, Edred longed to bask in the emotions that accompanied both without judgment.

"There you are. All better?" She cooed, brushing her fingers through silver locks soothingly. Edred gazed up at her; his eyes clouded as he bequeathed control of his entire self to her and awaited her judgment. He gave so willingly. So freely. Only to her. Ever only to her and none else. Melinda felt her heart flutter at the thought. The Proud, stubborn Prince of the Northern Elves entrusting to her, a state of vulnerability that no one else would ever know. She would reward that trust—every single time.

But not just yet.

The Sorceress straightened up, casually tossing the blindfold aside to flutter to the floor. She smirked and let her thumb trace over Edred's delightfully full lips.

"Since you can ask for things, you can probably show me what else this mouth is good for, hm?" She murmured. Edred's eyes took on a familiar gleam. One that told Melinda that he'd gladly meet any challenge she offered. And he would excel every single time.

Melinda's fingers turned harsh as she gripped Edred's hair and pulled his head forward. She let out a shuddering sigh as warm breath tickled her thighs. She was already slick with want. Seeing her Prince so always made the Sorceress flush with need. Edred moved the rest of the way without guiding, delving into the apex of Melinda's thighs. He devoured her with his mouth with the same hunger he did when he kissed her. Only this time, Melinda's own mouth was left free to groan out his name.

She shot up with a scandalized yelp, her heart pounding. A furtive glance around showed that the noise had woke anyone up. Seng nestled in the proud mane of the massive Lion he'd befriended. How it managed to escape the Celestial Realm and exit the boy's head was anyone's guess, especially as she hadn't seen it before their joining to defeat the Evil. Then again, it was a cat. And all cats, even the giant ones, didn't exactly operate on the same logic as other living creatures.

Winston lay curled up like the canine he was, a foot kicking in his sleep as he dreamed of whatever Werewolves dreamt of. She smiled at the sight and resolved to tease him about it when he woke.

Merlin was standing not far off and seemed awake until she looked closer to see his eyes closed. In addition to magic, the old Wizard seemed to have mastered the art of sleeping while standing. It was impressive, if a bit creepy. But impressive nonetheless.

She had no idea if Copernicus was asleep or not. Robots shouldn't have to sleep, being robots and all. Perhaps he was just doing it because everyone else was?

Her eyes finally fell on Edred, propped up against a tree, Twillion resting close at hand. She shot to her feet and immediately strode into the forest without looking backward. She really could not handle looking at him now.

The forest was as unfamiliar to her as everywhere else. Nothing made sense in the world anymore. Not after the Evil had jumbled the past, present, and future together and tossed the result into the cosmos without caring for the result. She wasn't even sure if they were on the same version of the planet anymore. It was something that was certainly worth figuring out. But not before they all got some rest. And definitely not before she cleared her head of the memories she'd been unwillingly privy to.

The sound of rushing water alerted her to a small stream up ahead, and she kneeled gratefully at the rocky bank to splash cold water on her face. It didn't erase the still vivid memory of the dream she'd just had, but it cleared her head somewhat. Gazing into her rippling reflection offered no solutions. The women that she used to be were appalled but for different reasons.

Emma, because her entire perception of how such things worked was being torn to shreds. She wasn't sure if she should judge Edred and Melinda for being shameless or congratulate them both for finding someone willing to indulge them in those matters and become so close.

Melinda was.....still sorting things out. She wasn't entirely averse to the things that were surfacing, but she damn sure didn't know what to do about it. And even if she wanted to, she couldn't because poor Emma was watching, and she'd been traumatized enough.

The woman that was both of them. The woman that they became when their souls entwined and worked towards a singular goal? She didn't quite know how she felt about the whole thing.

She hadn't been lying in the Celestial Realm when she'd rebuffed Winston's advances and explained that she was neither Emma nor Melinda. But a different person altogether who carried the memories of both. She'd meant it when she remembered much more than just Emma's time with him. Winston hadn't known that she recalled time spent with Edred of a less than-innocent kind. And she kind of understood just why he was so desperate to get Melinda back. You couldn't do those kinds of things with just anyone.

But what could she do? She certainly could not act on those memories. But avoiding Edred wasn't right either. He didn't know the extent of her memories with him, and it wasn't fair to punish him for it. Ignoring the Prince was sure to hurt him even more than the realization that he may not get to be with Melinda for a long time. Hell, she'd already lied to him once about remembering their closeness. Did she really have the right to keep lying to the man because of her own hangups?

So deep in her inner turmoil she was that the approaching sound of footsteps eluded her. Someone coughed awkwardly from behind her, and she froze as if caught committing the most grievous crimes.

"Melin-Uh Emma....No ah..." The Prince fumbled his words as he sought to call her something other than a name belonging to someone else. "Hey.....You...." He said lamely.

They had yet to decide on an adequate name for her, so she decided to let that one slide.

"Hello....Edred." She replied weakly, standing to turn and face him. He stood a respectful distance away, just as he'd come always to do recently, and an unknown corner of her heart sank at the sight. Moreso, when she met his eyes and saw the concern clearly within. The obsession that she'd unwillingly seen in them had the Prince unable to let go. But did it always have to manifest in such a sweet manner?

"I woke up, and you were gone. Well, Twillion woke me up, and then I noticed you were gone." He admitted, gesturing half-heartedly to the sword slung on his back.

She decided then and there that Twillion was a bonafide snitch and could not be trusted.

"Are you....okay?" Edred asked hesitantly, gesturing at, well, all of her as he attempted to relay that he was asking about the her that she presently was and not who she used to be.

She was hesitant to lie to him again, but he was already trying as it was. She didn't want to make things more complicated for him.

"Yes. I am now." She said in a halting manner. "I had a bad dream. Or maybe it was a memory I don't know!" She cackled, her nervousness getting the better of her. Edred was kind enough to ignore any unhinged behavior coming from her, not that he wasn't used to it. Instead, he just asked. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

No. For the love of God, she did not.

She shook her head rapidly, ignoring how the Prince mildly deflated at her rejection of his help.

"Nononono! It's nothing I can't handle, just. You know." She gestured a hand broadly at everything around her. "The stress of it all. We've all been through a lot, and now we have to figure out our next step. It's kept me up." She admitted. There was some truth in her words. Things were very confusing, and she had no idea what they were going to do.

Edred readily believed her. He, no doubt, had the same concerns. Everyone surely did.

"Yes, I see." He nodded and folded both arms over his broad chest. The fact that he had the gall to just be shirtless around her while she was having at least three different internal crises at once about her level of attraction to him was not okay.

"I often wonder the same thing. Not just what to do or if we can beat this. But if we can put things back in order afterward. It is more than one person should have to deal with." He said in a soft tone, gazing straight into her eyes. He really had to stop doing that.

"And so if it does ever become too much. Know that you can talk to me." He said. He blinked once. Twice. And then a sudden realization hit him. "AS A FRIEND, OF COURSE. NOTHING MORE. I JUST WANT TO HELP YOU. AS A FRIEND."

Edred's voice took on an impossibly high pitch as he laughed nervously. As she'd come to realize, it was the laugh he only did when he was withholding something. It positively screamed, "Hello my name is Edred, and I'm full of shit."

She didn't hold it against him. Given she was much the same. Still, it would have helped for him to put a damn shirt on. There weren't exactly clothes growing from the trees, but maybe some leaves? Anything to cover his pectorals, different from the ones she recalled and similarly unadorned. They lacked the twin silver nipple rings that mirrored the metal band resting at the base of his thick.....

She raised both hands and slapped herself repeatedly. This man would be the death of her, and he wouldn't even know the reason. A pair of strong hands circled her wrists, and Edred forced her arms to remain still as he stared at her with the same devotion she'd come to expect from the Prince.

"What's gotten into you?" His tone was equally demanding and worried. He could tell that something was bothering her, and it pained him that he couldn't be even a little bit helpful.

She shook her head rapidly, trying and failing to erase the phantom sensation of those same hands pinning her wrists against the bedsheets in a time long past.

"I just. It's-." She stuttered, unable and unwilling to put into words what was truly going through her mind.

"The dream that woke me up is just hard to move past. It's like a nightmare when I think about it." She admitted.

Not knowing how much longer she could stand the warmth of Edred's skin against hers, she gently pried her wrists from his hands, and he reluctantly let them go.

"I should still try to get some sleep! You know. Because anything could happen, and I can't just worry about things I can't even remember that clearly." She forced out a strained laugh before turning and bolting into the night, back towards where the rest of their party remained blissfully asleep.

Edred was left alone and confused in the dark, and he stared after her long after she was gone. The Prince's shoulders slumped, and he sighed in relief.

"Never thought I'd be happy to hear someone was having a nightmare. For a moment, I was afraid that she'd remembered something embarrassing. Like the kinds of things Melinda and I used to do to each other." He mumbled to himself.

"If she even knew a fraction of what we got up to, she wouldn't be able to look me in the eye."

#unicorn warriors eternal #melinda #emma fairfax #eldred #meldred #THE DISRESPECT #I really did log in after god knows how long to post smut