Faeriewalker fanfic - “Finding Home”, part 1/3
So I wrote this long ass fic that I’m pretty sure no one will read because I can’t find a single Feariewalker fanfic on the whole internet, so it doesn’t really seem like a thing. Regardless, this huge fic poured out of me, so here it is for anyone who’s interested. If you haven’t read the Faeriewalker series by Jenna Black, I highly recommend it. There’s three books and this fic takes place after Shadowspell (book 2).
I’ll probably post it in three large parts. It’s close to 100 pages and just about finished. A few more scenes and it’ll be done.
If you read it and like it, please please comment. If there’s anyone who actually reads this ship, I’d write some more of it because I love this couple so much.
Summary:
Soon after the altercation with Aunt Grace, Dana learns that Ethan is cheating on her. She also feels imprisoned by her dad and is totally uninterested in being around her mom since their fight. And most importantly, she can’t stop dreaming about the kiss from the Erlking, and so when her life feels like it’s falling apart, Dana asks Arawn if she can stay with him for a while.
Warnings: NSFW smut and mentions of past sexual assualt.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
AO3 link here.
Title: Finding Home
PART 1
My dad was pissed. Between Aunt Grace nearly killing me because I had snuck out again, and my deal with the Erlking that Dad pretended not to know the details of, even though I knew he did, my father was bound and determined to keep me locked up. At least for a while. But for all I knew, he’d keep me in that damn dungeon til I turned eighteen.
No amount of protesting or arguments had changed his mind so far. I was a prisoner. Even Finn was in on it, because he was upset that I had somehow snuck past him yet again. I couldn’t even convince Finn to take me out for groceries. He’d tell my Dad what I asked for and Dad would bring over the groceries. Out of spite, I put tampons on my list and then when he brought the ones with the cardboard applicators instead of the pearl ones, I sent my Dad back out to get the right ones. Maybe it was a bit childish but I felt it served him right for not letting me go get them myself. It was humiliating enough having to ask my dad for them.
Also, it wasn’t like the Erlking was going to hunt me down at the grocery store. He had made it very clear that it was in his interest for me to stay alive and well.
Although Keane still came to give me a weekly torture lesson in self-defense, complete with sarcasm and general verbal abuse, I was bored out of my mind. And going crazy inside the walls. I hadn’t spoken to my mom since she hit me. Nor did I have any desire to. Kimber and I talked on the phone periodically but when you’re locked inside a prison and see basically no one, there’s really not much to talk about, so our phone calls had started to taper off lately.
And the one thing that did occupy my thoughts I couldn’t talk about with her. My weird ass dreams. Much to my dismay, I dreamed of Arawn every night now, since the night he had saved me from being raped. I shivered just thinking about that dark night, then shoved that fear down deep into the black hole inside of me where I kept everything else.
My dreams of Arawn since then left me breathless. At first it was just the intense kiss we had shared, but the dreams got progressively more explicit. Running my hands over his huge muscles. Tangling them in his long hair. The feel of his stubble on my skin. His head between my legs. Our bodies twisted together in dark sheets. I’d wake with my heart racing, my center pounding, my panties soaking wet.
I also couldn’t stop thinking of his words in the tunnel after he killed Aunt Grace. I’m sorry I could not get here sooner to spare you some of what you’ve been through. There was a gentleness to his words, a tenderness. Despite everything he had done to me, I felt a sense of safety wash over me. I had never felt safe before in my whole life, and here it was, from a male who seemed to be a monster. The day I had gone to his house to bargain for Ethan, when Arawn knelt before me and ran his thumbs over my knuckles—I realized I had felt it then, too. I just hadn’t recognized it for what it was at the time. Not when the concept of safety had been so foreign to me. My mom certainly never did anything to make me feel safe. And though I think my Dad tried, in his own way, from the moment I arrived in Avalon it had been one terrifying thing after another. Plus I worried my Dad wanted to use me for his political ambitions. So even though he was light-years better than my mother at trying to protect me, I never really felt safe.
I forced myself to think of Ethan during the day to distract myself. I missed him, and the dreams made me feel almost like I was cheating on him, though I obviously had no control over them.
After two weeks, when I couldn’t take it anymore, I decided to use the brooch to go see him. Even though I had serious misgivings about using it again, the feeling of being trapped had begun to outweigh it.
So one evening after Finn thought I had gone to bed, I dressed in jeans, pricked my finger, and walked out the door. As with all the other times, Finn didn’t even notice the door opening, his attention fully fixed on the soccer match blaring on the television.
I found my way through the darkness with a flashlight and made it to Ethan’s apartment, invisible to everyone that walked by. When I got to his doorstep, I was planning on waiting a few minutes for the spell to wear off, timing it on my watch, but I became distracted by his door, which was slightly ajar.
A worried feeling came over me. What if something had happened to him? What if the Erlking had come to take him back?
Without thinking too hard about the terrifying possibilities, I eased the door open on silent hinges and slipped inside. There was a low moan coming from Ethan’s bedroom. Maybe he was hurt? My heart pounded in my chest and I tiptoed across the carpet to his bedroom door.
And when I looked inside, my heart nearly stopped. There on the bed was Ethan and the girl he had danced with at the party. Fucking.
“What the FUCK?!” I screamed, seething, enraged.
But they completely ignored my outburst, engrossed in each other. Ethan was fucking the girl from behind and she was moaning, her face buried in the bedspread.
“ETHAN! WHAT THE FUCK!” I hollered again. And then realized that I was still invisible. They had no idea I was there. And couldn’t hear me.
I looked at my watch. Two more minutes. I debated waiting for the spell to wear off so I could confront Ethan properly, but then changed my mind and just stomped out. Really, I was afraid if I stayed and screamed at him that I’d cry, and I didn’t want to give him that satisfaction. Fuck him. I didn’t want to give him anything anymore.
I left his front door wide open. Stabbing my finger viciously with the brooch to reactivate the spell, I made my way back towards the tunnels.
How many times did I have to learn this lesson? How many signs had Ethan given me that he wasn’t trustworthy? I should have learned with the first red flag when he basically tried to magic-roofie me into kissing him. And probably would have done more if I hadn’t realized and stopped it. Well fuck him. Never again. I was done. He could go and rot in the Hunt for the rest of his immortal life for all I cared.
Somehow through my blind rage I found my way back to the safe house. My prison. Past Finn who was already snoring.
It took me a long time to find sleep that night. I tossed and turned, seeing the image of Ethan fucking that girl over and over. Seeing red again and again. But eventually I fell into a fitful sleep.
That night I had a strange dream. As usual I dreamed of Arawn, but it was a different kind of dream. He was sitting in the big armchair in front of his fireplace and I was on his lap, cradled in his huge muscled arms. He rocked me back and forth, pressing gentle kisses to my forehead, and murmured tenderly to me that I was going to be okay.
And when I woke in the morning, I was. Sure, I still hated Ethan’s fucking guts and vowed never to speak to him again except with my middle finger. But there was a calmness in me that wasn’t there last night. A warmth.
I carried that warmth inside me all day, replaying the dream. The feeling of safety and security. When my dad came by with more groceries that afternoon, I didn’t even try to argue with him about letting me out of the safe house. It was like I was floating on the cloud of the dream and nothing could bother me.
That night I pricked my finger again. Crept past Finn again. This time with a pack of clothes and other necessities on my back.
I walked through the tunnels and the quiet streets of Avalon until I got to the huge house that was the home of the Erlking.
He opened at the first knock. “Dana,” he started, surprised.
He was as huge and imposing as ever. Tall, so tall, with broad shoulders, his powerful arms and chest. I felt heat stir low in my belly, remembering some of my dreams from the past few weeks. The ones that left my panties sticky. I prayed I packed enough pairs.
Arawn’s eyebrows went up, a smirk playing at his lips. “Have you come to fulfill our bargain?”
I rolled my eyes and pushed inside. He closed the door behind me. Turning to face him, I said, “I’m not having sex with you yet, if that’s what you mean. I’m not just going to knock on your door and do it.” I swallowed, gathering my courage. “If I’m ever going to agree to sleep with you, I want to get to know you first.”
“Get to know me?” he echoed.
“Yeah, it’s this thing that people do sometimes before jumping into bed together.”
His eyebrows went higher. “And how do you propose to do that?”
“I think you should let me stay here for a while. We’ll get to know each other.” My audacity astounded even me. “Plus I can’t stay in that prison for one more second or I’m going to lose it.”
“Your father’s been imprisoning you?” Disbelief coated his deep voice, and his eyebrows drew together.
“Well, he’d call it a ‘safe house,’”—I put the word in air quotes—“But yes. It has no windows and he hasn’t let me leave in weeks and I’m this close to losing my damn mind.”
Arawn stared at me a moment, his massive arms crossed, a finger running over his bottom lip. I tried not to remember all the things I’ve done with that lip in my dreams. All the things I craved doing.
“Okay,” he said at last, “You can stay here for a while.”
I had to ask. “Will I—will I be safe here?”
“Yes,” he said, a gentle look in his eyes, “I guarantee your protection while you are here.”
I dipped my head in thanks.
He stared at me, a small smile on his face. “Come,” he said finally, “I’ll show you to where you can sleep.”
I gripped my backpack tighter and followed his massive form up the sweeping staircase. He led me down the hall and as we passed one doorway, he motioned to it and said, “That’s my room.” He smirked again at me. “In case you feel like coming by.”
I rolled my eyes. Arawn continued down the hall and stopped at another doorway, opening the door and flipping on the lights to reveal a beautiful suite with what appeared to be an adjoining bathroom. There was a huge four poster bed in the middle of the room, and the carpet was so thick and luxurious that my shoes sank into it with each step.
He lingered in the doorway watching me assess the room. I turned back to look at him. His form filled the entire doorway.
“Thank you,” I said, “For letting me stay here.”
He nodded. “Does your father know you left?”
I shrugged. “I’m sure my absence will inform him of that.”
Arawn’s lips quirked. “I imagine he may come looking for you.”
“I think your house is probably the last place he’d look.”
“He cares for you.”
“Yeah, so much he locked me up.” My mouth twisted. “I think he cares more for what I can do for his political prospects, anyways.”
“He’ll still come looking for you.”
I shrugged. “Let him. I’m not going back to that prison. If you kick me out I’d rather go back to the mortal world.”
Arawn grinned wickedly. “Perhaps I’ll come with you.”
“Yeah,” I said with a snort, “So you can kill all the mortals.”
“Not all. Just some.”
“You know, normal people who like to hunt go out and hunt animals for eating.”
A smile played around his lips. “What’s the difference?”
“You’re not eating them!”
“No,” he agreed, “Mortals taste terrible.”
My eyebrows shot up. “You’ve tried them?”
Arawn laughed. “Once, long ago. Never again. It was awful.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. “I’d like to go to sleep now, if that’s alright.”
“Of course,” he said smoothly. Then his smirk was back. “Would you like a goodnight kiss?”
I’m sure he expected some flippant retort. Or me to cringe. Or look away in disgust. But I had experienced his kisses in my dreams for weeks now, and I really, really wanted to feel the real thing again. Our first kiss haunted me and something in me craved feeling it once more.
So I looked at him evenly and said, “Okay.”
His eyes widened in surprise ever so slightly, then gleamed. He took one step toward me, into the room. Then another. I stood my ground, watching him, dropping my backpack to the floor.
Then he stood in front of me, towering over me. I didn’t take my eyes from him. My palms grew moist. So did my panties, but he really didn’t need to know that.
One of Arawn’s huge hands went to my waist, pulling my body into his. The other hand threaded through my hair, pushing my head back and cradling it at the same time. He lowered his head and gently brushed his lips against mine, once, twice, and when I kissed him back, he deepened it, his tongue tracing my lips. I opened to let him in, gasping, and his tongue stroked against mine. He held me firmly against him and I could feel his erection through his leather pants. My nipples pebbled against his hard chest. His lips were burning hot, burning through me, as they caressed mine. I finally pulled away, breathless, our foreheads leaning together.
“Was that okay?” I nodded at his question. “I didn’t hurt you?”
“No,” I murmured.
He leaned in and gave me one last soft, gentle kiss. “Good night, Dana.”
I was still catching my breath a little as I responded, “Good night, Arawn.”
He growled and said, “I like the sound of my name on your lips.”
I glanced down at the evidence of his arousal and said, “It seems you like a lot of things.”
He grinned, unashamed, and pulled away, sauntering out the door. “Sleep well,” he tossed out over his shoulder as he closed the door behind him.
Just to be sure, after a moment I went and checked the door to make sure I wasn’t locked in. It wasn’t. Closing the door softly again, I locked it from the inside for good measure. He said earlier he’d guarantee my safety, and I didn’t think I had anything to worry from him because he said I’d have to come to him of my own free will, but I thought of all the other males in the house and shivered.
I brushed my teeth and washed my face in the adjoining bathroom, which had a huge sunken tub in addition to the large shower. I couldn’t wait to bathe in that tub.
Climbing up into the huge bed and turning off the lamp, I slid between cool sheets. I thought of the kiss and it made me press my legs together. The feel of his tongue against mine. His huge hands holding me close to him. That sense of safety that I had felt before was still present, had washed over me in waves when he kissed me. I fell asleep with a smile on my lips.
I woke to light shining on my face from the window. It was like a breath of fresh air to wake to real sunlight. Even still, I buried my head in the soft pillow, trying to stay with the delicious dream of Arawn kissing me, kissing my mouth, kissing down my body, lingering over my breasts. My core was tight and aching.
Sighing, I rose from the bed and took a shower and got dressed. I wandered through the house—the mansion, really—until I came across Arawn in the dining room, drinking tea and eating toast and scrambled eggs.
“Good morning, Arawn,” I said.
I swore I could see his eyes darken at my words. “Good morning,” he replied. “Did you sleep well?”
I nodded, and couldn’t help the slight blush that rose to my cheeks. His blue eyes darkened even further.
“I had coffee made for you,” he said.
“Thank you,” I murmured as I took a seat at the table across from him.
He picked up a mug and poured coffee from a silver carafe and placed it in front of me. I took a sip. It was delicious.
He sipped his tea and stared at me. The air practically crackled between us.
“Do you want eggs? Toast? Pancakes?”
“Yes,” I said faintly, not really hearing him. I think I was drowning in his blue eyes.
“You’d like all of them?” He asked skeptically.
“Sorry, what was the question?”
His smirk was back. “I asked what you wanted for breakfast.”
“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “I’ll just have toast.”
He passed me some on a plate and I tried to gather my wits about me as I buttered it.
I cleared my throat. “So what does the king of Faerie do all day?”
“You mean besides hunting and killing people?” Mirth shone in his gaze.
“And eating them,” I deadpanned, making him laugh.
“I’m the king of Faerie, I do whatever I want.”
I took a bite of my toast and he watched my mouth move. Which made it quite hard to swallow, let me tell you.
“What do you want to do today, Dana?” His voice rumbled like thunder and made me shiver. In a good way.
I finally managed to swallow my food, and licked my lips. He didn’t miss a move. I’d have felt like prey if it weren’t for the fact that I couldn’t take my eyes off his lips, the masculine shadow of his stubble, like I was stalking him right back.
“I want…I want to feel free. I want to feel the wind and sun on my face.”
Some emotion flickered briefly in his deep blue eyes. “Would you like to go for a motorcycle ride?”
My lips parted. “Would the Hunt be with us?”
“Not if you don’t want them to be.”
“Just around Avalon?”
He nodded.
“How can I trust that?”
Arawn smiled softly, kindly. “I swear it. And I have an interest in keeping your trust, as well as your safety.” He held out his hand over the table, palm up. Something in me compelled me to place my hand in his. He held my hand gently, running his thumb over my knuckles as he had the first time I was here.
“You deserve to feel the wind and sun on your face, Dana.”
“Okay,” I breathed. “Just you and me. No Hunt.”
“Alright. Finish your breakfast and then we’ll go.”
I wolfed down the rest of my toast and finished my coffee. Something in me was strangely excited at the thought of being on a motorcycle with him.
We went out a side door from the house and there a long line of motorcycles were parked. Arawn was dressed in leathers, but without the scary spikes all over it. He pulled out a smaller leather jacket from who knows where and held it open for me, indicating I should put it on. With his help I put one arm through, then the other, and when it was settled on my shoulders he smoothed his huge hands down my arms. I could have sworn he was smelling my hair too.
He forewent his helmet this time, and when I hesitated without one, thinking how stupid it would be to get on a motorcycle without a helmet, he said, “I promise your head will be safe with me. You can wear one if you’d like, but it makes it a lot harder to feel the wind on your face.”
I bit my lip. “What if I fall off the back?”
He shook his head. “I want you to be in front so you don’t.”
He mounted the bike, waiting patiently for me to come closer. The thought of his arms around me like that made my heart race. I stepped forward, close to the bike.
His hands reached for my waist and lifted me like I weighed nothing, placing me in front of him. His thighs pressed into mine sensually, his chest a furnace against my back.
His lips at my ear whispered, “You ready?”
At my nod, he kicked up the kickstand and raised his hands to the handlebars and revved the engine, making me jump. It was louder than I thought it would be, and the seat vibrated between my legs. But after the initial shock, I relaxed against him, and we pulled out and onto the road. Despite the thrill of it, I had never felt safer, ensconced between his legs and arms.
I held onto his muscled thighs as we rounded the first corner, since there was nothing else I could grab onto. I could hear his soft laugh in my ear over the roar of the motor, and felt his erection against my ass, which was tucked tight against him. Between that and the vibrations, my center tingled pleasantly.
As we gained speed on the curved roads, my heart lifted. It was extraordinary. It was a rare clear day, and the sun beat down warm on my face, a strange contrast to the cold wind that whipped at me. We drove through the streets of Avalon, up, up the winding hill, until we finally got to the very top. The wind was fiercest up here. We were alone at the top of the barefaced hill.
Arawn cut the engine and helped me off the bike. I closed my eyes and tipped my head back, feeling the sun on my whole body. He stood beside me, looking out at the miles and miles of view that could be seen. I opened my eyes and found him staring at me, which made me blush. I averted my eyes and looked out at the landscape. That, of course, was a huge mistake, because I saw the glimmerglass, its moving transparent ripples immediately sending a wave of nausea through me.
I swung around quickly, hand over my mouth, my head nearly buried in Arawn’s leather-clad chest. His hand came up and cupped the back of my head.
“Dana, are you alright?” Concern laced his voice.
I leaned forward an inch and my forehead rested on his chest. I moaned briefly against the nausea, unable to shake my head without making it worse.
“Sorry,” I mumbled into him, “It just—just made me nauseous.”
His hand stroked my hair, and the other came up to rub circles over my back. “Breathe,” he commanded me gently. In the cool darkness of his leathers, the nausea began to ease.
“Was it the ride?” he asked.
“No, the ride was fine. Looking at the glimmerglass turns my stomach.”
“Ah,” he replied. His hand didn’t cease rubbing soothing circles on my back. “Keep breathing. It’ll pass.”
I focused on my breathing, inhaling the smoky, spicy, deeply masculine scent of him. And after a moment the nausea was gone. But I kept my face buried in his chest anyways, reveling in the feel of his arms holding me with such gentleness.
“Thank you,” I sighed into him. “It’s gone now.”
I still didn't move away from his body, and felt him lean down and press a kiss to my forehead. Another small sigh escaped me.
After a moment I pulled back an inch and looked up at him.
“What?” he asked, looking down at the slight smile on my face.
I didn’t think I had anything to lose, so I confessed it. “Being in your arms is the only place in my whole life I’ve ever felt safe.”
There was a softness to his brilliant blue eyes as he stared down at me. He ran his fingers down the side of my face, tracing his thumb over my cheekbone.
“What about your parents?”
I shook my head. “Never. Certainly not my mom. And I really just met my dad recently.”
His mouth tightened and his thumb stroked my cheek again. My knees trembled a little.
Arawn’s head dipped down, his eyes smoldering, as he angled my head back. His lips lingered mere millimeters from mine, as if he were waiting for my permission. I surged up to meet his lips and he kissed me back passionately, taking control. His hands were at the small of my back, pulling me close and I could feel his erection again. He seemed to have a perpetual hard-on and the thought of that made my underwear soaking wet. Or maybe it was his kissing prowess. I didn’t have a whole lot to compare it to, but it was certainly more intense than kissing Ethan. It was like he was consuming me. My cheeks were flaming and I was nearly dizzy with it.
Arawn pulled back as I gasped for air, then kissed me softly once, twice, brushing his lips across mine tenderly.
“I’m glad,” he whispered.
“About—about what?” I stammered.
“That you feel safe with me.”
I frowned at him. “Don’t think this means I’m automatically going to let you into my pants.”
He grinned. “A male can dream.”
I glanced down at his pants, still taut with his hard cock. “Yeah, well, keep dreaming.”
His grin widened. “I think you like it when I kiss you.”
“Clearly you like it when you kiss me,” I retorted. “Or is that just the thought of you getting my power?”
“Baby girl,” he rumbled, “It’s all you.”
My nipples peaked and hardened at his words, but I scoffed, narrowing my eyes. “Are you saying you like little boys?”
“Excuse me?”
I shrugged. “That’s basically what I look like.”
Arawn raised his brows. “You do not see yourself clearly.”
“My vision is perfectly fine. I think it’s my power you’re interested in and nothing more.”
I made to pull away, but he grabbed my waist and pulled me back tight against him, our faces close.
“You’re beautiful,” he said tenderly, fiercely.
I scoffed again, opening my mouth to give him my best retort, but before I could get a word out he laid a finger on my lips, silencing me.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered again, smoothing his thumb over my bottom lip, tracing down my chin.
I stood frozen, drowning in those deep blue eyes for eons before I found my voice. “You’ll have to kiss me at least fifteen or twenty more times before I’ll believe that.”
He burst out laughing, his head tipped back to the sun. He was the most glorious thing I had ever seen in my life. How could someone like him possibly be interested in a sixteen-year-old half-Fae girl? Seventeen, I reminded myself. My birthday had been a few days before, not that anyone noticed.
Arawn’s laughter finally died down. “Is that an invitation, sweetheart?” His voice was like thunder. I just rolled my eyes at him, hiding my embarrassment.
I pulled away from him, catching a glimpse of the glimmerglass before quickly turning my head back into his chest before the nausea could take hold of me again.
“Easy,” he murmured, his hand cradling my head. I took a deep breath. “You okay?” he asked, his voice gentle.
I nodded.
With one last stroke down the back of my head, he suddenly picked me up, my arms automatically grabbing his neck, and walked back over to his bike.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he ordered, not unkindly.
“You just like to be looked at,” I muttered, making him smirk, but I curled in close to him all the same.
He set me down on the leather seat of the motorcycle, my legs straddling it, and then swung his leg over and seated himself behind me, our legs pressed together.
I readied myself for the jump of the motor, but instead one of his arms snaked around my stomach, the other hand twisting my chin towards him, and he angled his head and kissed me, without any tongue, but so tenderly I thought my heart was melting.
He pulled away half an inch, smirking at me. “That’s one,” he teased me.
I slapped his thigh. It was like slapping a boulder, his muscles were so hard. He laughed and kickstarted the motor, making me jump and grip his thigh tighter.
We rode fast, the wind beating at my face, my hair blowing wildly. Arawn expertly maneuvered around the hairpin turns back down the huge mountain, but even still my legs were shaking by the time he pulled up to the side of his house and parked the bike next to the row of others.
He dismounted first, then helped me off. I almost collapsed to the ground, my legs were trembling so badly, but he caught me, his brows twisted in alarm.
“I’ve got you, baby girl,” he rumbled, carrying me into the house, down the hall with the crystal chandeliers and into the parlor.
A fire sprang to life as he approached and without letting go of me, he sat down in the big chair in front of it. He held me to him, one hand on my back, the other on my knee, his thumb stroking soft circles.
“You doing okay?”
“Yeah,” I mumbled into the crook of his neck, “You really know how to make a girl’s legs shake.”
I could feel his silent laughter over his chest and I buried my face in my hands. “I did not just say that.”
Arawn kissed my forehead, and I could hear the grin in his voice as he said, “I’m pretty sure you did.”
“Maybe your hearing’s going in your old age.”
He snorted, his arm curling around my shoulders, holding me closer. Our position was so eerily similar to the one in my dream the other night that I shivered in pleasure.
“You cold?” His face had a look of genuine concern.
I wasn’t, not really, but I leaned in closer to him and said, “You’re warming me up.” Technically it was true. Especially between my legs.
Later, one of the Huntsmen—not Connor, who I hadn’t caught a glimpse of yet—served us lunch, and then Arawn spent the afternoon teaching me how to play chess in front of the fire in the parlor. I was atrocious and he beat me handily every time.
While we were playing, somehow the subject came up that Keane was teaching me self-defense and how it had actually come in handy when not-Lachlan had tried to kidnap me.
His brows went up, and I think he was a little impressed. “Would you like to continue while you’re here?”
I stared at him in confusion. “You mean, have Keane come here?”
Arawn laughed. “No. I doubt he’d have the balls to come anyways. I meant I could teach you.”
My lips parted, thinking of Arawn’s hands on my body, putting me in positions, holding me, straddling me.
I bit my lip. “Okay.”
A little while later, after I dressed in leggings and a tank top, he led me downstairs to a room that seemed to be like a workout room, and had a section with lots of pads on the floor.
Arawn was in his usual leather pants but had stripped off his shirt. I was never going to learn anything with that distraction in front of me. The muscles of his torso were practically a work of art.
He smirked at my stare. “You want to learn something or you want to drool over me all day?”
I blushed hotly.
After he had me run through the things I had learned so far, we started. His teaching was wildly different from Keane’s. The lack of verbal abuse, for one. Arawn’s abilities also clearly outweighed Keane’s by leaps and bounds.
Instead of throwing me in the lion’s den and just tossing punches my way the way Keane did, Arawn’s teaching was much more methodical, more thoughtful. He showed me new ways to get out of holds, and then we’d practice just one move, over and over, until I could do it fluidly, and then would practice it again in a sequence, and then again in a more improvised, free form sparring.
I was sweating profusely before long, and some of the positions we were in made me blush like a fire engine. We stopped after an hour, but even in that short time I thought I had improved and felt more optimistic about my abilities, or potential ones at least.
I showered before dinner, singing to myself under the thrum of the beating water. And suddenly realized I was…happy. For the first time since I came to Avalon I felt free and powerful and safe.