AND HAVE BEEN DOING SO FOR MOST OF THE DAY.
The marvellous, generous, kind and oh so so so talented @sorcerousadventurer created these fantastic pieces for our trade, and I LOVE THEM. They're so perfect, intricate and exactly what I wanted (and what I didn't know I wanted, she knew and put it in!)
Her knowledge about fashion and different periods of fashion really shone through here, and I'm slack-jawed with awe.
Thank you for making my Lilya de Riva and @blackwall-my-tiny-husband 's Zalan de Riva look so freaking amazing.
I'm going to love on these forever.
I’m not sure this is an ending worthy of @serensama’s amazing Lilya x Zalan story, but it’s what I’ve got in me right now. Enjoy!
Zalan belongs to @blackwall-my-tiny-husband
————
Three hours and a second bottle of wine disappeared before Zalan found her again. After years of testing poisons on herself, alcohol didn’t have the kick it once had, but Ilene had applied herself diligently. The stars above looked suitably fuzzy from the rooftop where she lay, in the poorest district in the city. The district Zalan had once called home.
She rolled her head to the side to observe him as he sat beside her. He’d fixed his hair (of course he’d fixed his hair). A smooth ponytail tied with a satin ribbon, neatly precise facial hair, spotless clothes. One of Viago’s perfect Crows.
Just like Lilya.
“I should have known,” Ilene muttered.
Zalan looked down at her, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“The two of you.” She waved a hand. “Fancy hair, fancy clothes, fancy missions. You both told me you met someone from our House in the market, and I didn’t even…”
With a scoff, she draped an arm over her eyes. “Viago should kill me on principle for being so stupid.”
“You’re not stupid.”
Ilene released a bright mockery of a laugh and pressed her arm more tightly across her face. “You’re right. It’s everyone else who’s fucking idiots. Someone gets you tingly in the small clothes, and you decide to call it love.”
“It’s not like that.”
Even when she was mad at him, his warm voice was a comfort in the dark. Unfair.
“Oh, no?” Ilene lifted her arm and let it fall back to her side with a satisfying smack against the roof tile. “Pray tell me, lethallin. How exactly is this time any different from all the other times you have fallen for a lovely face?”
On any other night she would have laughed at his serious, slightly disappointed expression and teased him for looking too much like Viago. But then his gaze went to the horizon and some soft thought made his lips slip into a smile.
“Because it’s her.”
He always wore his heart on his sleeve, showed it in his eyes, spoke it in his words, at least when it was just the two of them. That sincerity now made her chest ache. She sat up and wrapped her arms around her knees, hugging herself as she looked out over the city.
“She’s not like us,” she told him.
She could feel when Zalan turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”
Ilene continued to look out at the only place she had ever called home. “She had a life. A good life. She doesn’t stay because she loves being a Crow. She stays for him.”
She didn’t need to say the name of the man who had saved them each in turn, who still held their lives in his hands. His name had become theirs.
“When they were together,” Ilene continued, resting her chin on her knees, “I knew she would stay. He would never leave the Crows, and she would never leave him.” She snorted. “Or so I thought.”
She turned her head toward him until one ear pressed against knobbly bone. “But if she wanted to leave, you’d go. Those stupid heart eyes of yours wouldn’t even look back.”
Distress carved a furrow in his brow. “Gemella—”
She looked away again. “Shut up.”
When he actually listened, she sighed. She fumbled her hand along the tile until she found the bottle again, but not even a sip remained. She tossed the bottle over the roof edge, and it smashed against the cobblestone below with a sharp, shattering crack.
“She’d dump you if I asked her to.”
“She already tried. Twice.”
Ilene sighed again. Of course her perfect sister would pin her own heart to a tree and then hold out her arms for a bloody embrace. Never did anything halfway, that one. It would always be more than Ilene deserved but try telling Lilya that.
And even though it sharpened the ache in her chest to stabbing, she couldn’t deny she wanted that kind of love for her twin in all but blood. Zalan and his big, stupid heart did deserve it. He deserved to soak up all the love that Lilya spilled so carelessly. He’d feed every drop right back to her.
“I’m going to Treviso,” she said, though she hadn’t registered the thought before the words crossed her lips. Viago wouldn’t deny her, not after this.
“You just got back.”
“Not for long. Just long enough to…” She waved her hand in a lazy circle, not even sure what exactly she meant to communicate.
“You shouldn’t have to go. We’ll—”
“Mythal’s tits, would you shut the hell up?” She glared at him and regretted chucking the bottle when smacking it against his shin would have made such a satisfying thunk. “You get Lilya and Lilya gets you and I get to do what I want. And what I want is to fuck off to Treviso for a few days.”
Zalan held up his hands in surrender and at least had the decency to try and rein in the smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. “Bring me back some coffee.”
“I’m not bringing you shit,” Ilene groused. Then she sprawled back across the rooftop. “And you have to carry me home. And you have to tell Lilya not to be all weird and weepy about it. And if I ever see you two fucking in any form, I will cut your dick off and sew her legs together.”
He grabbed her wrists in a gentle grip and tugged her arms around his neck. “As you say, gemella.”
It's the whole 'one fell first, the other fell harder', and I'm the latter option.
Perla... she wasn't supposed to be here. She wasn't even supposed to come into my journey. It was a dumb, dumb random encounter that I couldn't forget. She's so stubborn. She kept following me around like an Arceus forbid lost pokemon. And she's just as quiet as a Dedenne.
And yet... she stayed. With Mairin, and Steven, witnessed the fall of Lumiose, and... even saved me.
But now... we're here. She's smiling. Why do I want to smile too?
The next smutty instalment of the Ribbonverse <3
Chapter 4 of 6
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Rook x Rook (Lilya x Zalan)
Word Count: 6893
Thanks to @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for beta-reading and being so patient and helpful with writing this. Much love, darling!!! <3
When morning came, and both left their rooms for the first time since the arrival of the devil bird, Lilya found herself desperate to see her partner. To see if he was as affected as she was. She'd barely been able to sleep that night, twisting in on herself, unable to find relief. She didn't dare touch herself, to let herself fall to her baser instincts. If it were any other time, she would not have minded slipping her hand between her legs to find release – but for this? For something she should not have been engaging in? No, her lack of satisfaction would be her penance. It wouldn't kill her to be a little riled up for one day.
And then she saw him.
Tailored suit of indigo, fine silver adornments – if she squinted, he looked like he could be in his Crow armour. Hair slicked back in a simple ponytail, and her white ribbon tied around it once again, so stark and bright in his dark strands that she could not help but stare at it for a moment.
Catching herself, she snapped out of her daze just in time to see his eyes glide over her, the hint of a pleased smile teasing at his lips. In truth, she hadn't thought about what she was choosing to wear, but it was a white dress, not too dissimilar to the one she wore to the market the day they had first met, if not just a little longer and many more layers instead of one simple cotton sheath. Lilya did not miss how his eyes also lingered on the candy pink ribbon she had tied around her throat, as she had been since she had received it.
Clearing his throat into his gloved hand, he asked if they should go down to breakfast before heading out for the day, and she nodded, taking his hand. A silent prayer of thanks to the Maker was given when he held it softly, palm to palm, but left their fingers untwined. It would have made it too intimate, too real, and she was barely holding it together as it was.
They barely had an appetite that morning, both picking up a freshly made pastry and some tea to calm themselves. Conversation was sparse and just as unfulfilling as their meal, tension thick between the couple that even the other guests could sense something was different between them. Not wrong, per se, but there was a definite change between them, a shift that they were both seemingly fighting but not very well. Through the glances they sent to each other, the way their legs still touched under the table and how their fingers looked like they itched to reach for each other… it was quite plain to see where their true appetites lay, and if given the opportunity, they were perilously close to rutting like wild animals in the dining hall.
Thankfully, they managed to control themselves long enough to finish their cups of tea and half-eaten baked goods before heading out to the lobby. This time, however, when he offered his hand, he did not hesitate to thread his fingers through hers, turning it upward to kiss the back of her hand, brown eyes staring into hers like a challenge.
With her heart pounding in her chest, Lilya tore herself away from him and bolted up the stairs, ignoring his startled shouts. Crying out his wife's name with no care as to who happened upon them. She did not stop, nor did she turn around, storming upwards until she reached their floor, patting her pockets down for the key to their room… only to realise that he had them. Another call of her 'name' reached her before he did, Lilya keeping a keen eye on the staircase as his dark crown came into view until he was standing before her, one foot on a step, the other on the landing.
"Sele–"
She jumped on him. Pounced on him like a kitten on a mouse, with none of the grace. He grabbed onto the railing and stood fast against the force. If he were upset, he did not voice it. (Which, in truth, may have been difficult as she had engaged his mouth in an alternate endeavour).
There was no denying it anymore. She was weak. Stupid. Ridiculous beyond belief. And desperate enough not to care about any of it. She had wanted this man from the moment she had seen him, and she did not care if she was not seen as a consummate professional from that moment on. Lilya allowed her arms to wrap around his neck and held back a smile when he wobbled between the walls of the corridor to their room, pressing her into them from time to time to deepen their kiss or grind against her, her quiet moans bouncing around them.
Pretending there was nothing between them was futile, she understood that now. So she didn't bat an eye when he gestured toward her room, giving him the smallest of nods, confirming their destination. The two stumbled their way there. There would be no maids to disturb them, no birds to distract them and no half-baked excuses of maintaining professionalism to deter her.
She didn't care.
She was going to finally get what she had wanted all along.
A trail of clothes marked their path across their rooms. His coat, left crumpled, followed by her shoes kicked off to random corners, his own toed off as he entered her bedroom. Her husband had let her slip down his body until her knees fell upon the foot of the bed. Smiling at the intentionally loose hold he had around her lower back, but she could feel how tightly he gripped the fabric of her dress. He was holding back on purpose, and that fuelled an excitement that shot through her. Lilya unbuttoned his vest to touch his shirt, the last bit of material that separated her from feeling him directly. Her fingers ghosted over the mother-of-pearl buttons that ran down the centre of this body, and she grinned, only to have him clear his throat.
"May I?" he asked, one finger drawing down the line of her spine to hook on the ties that kept her clothed. Nodding once, she let her arms fall to his hips, fingers hooking on the waistband of his trousers. With the skill of a rogue or a rake, he pulled at the knot of laces at the back of her dress, loosening it before moving his attention to pushing down the capped sleeves off her shoulders. Tenderly, he kissed the newly exposed skin there – thrilled to see the immediate rise of goosebumps down her arms. Scooping up her thick hair, he lay it over her shoulder and traced his fingertips down the line of her neck, until they touched the ribbon he had gifted her in what felt like a lifetime ago. "It feels like this may be the perfect time to remove this, hmm, darling wife? Do you agree?" he asked, pausing for her response. At her nod, he grinned, drawing his thumb clean across the front of her throat, a deadly threat in one circumstance, adoring affection in another.
"Then please, allow me the honour of doing this for you."
Two steady pulls at the velvet and silk ribbon, and it pooled on the bed beside her knee. Lilya almost swooned at the feel of his lips there, though it was such a thin scrap of material, she felt bare without it… and the fact that it was he who removed and reclaimed it, the pull deep inside her became more insistent. A kiss was pressed where the bow once lay and then along the length of her collarbone, his eyes drinking in every hitch of her breath and tremble in her form.
Pulling her closer so she was flush against him, he pressed open-mouthed kisses upon the pulse at her neck, his fingers finding their way back to the laces he had undone before. Lilya gasped at a particularly evocative kiss when his tongue swiped languidly along her skin, tugging the white cords out of their loops one by one, taking his time and ensuring she ached evermore with each passing breath she was unable to feel him under her fingertips. By the time he had removed the top of her dress, Lilya was already close to panting, her nerves standing on end from every small caress and kiss he gave her.
Bit by bit, her dress was pulled away from her until she was left only in her breast band and her half slip, his hands gliding over her smooth skin as freely as he desired, Lilya only offering more of her neck to him – an enticing prospect for any willing man, to be sure. But for a Crow? With another Crow? She was practically handing him a knife and telling him she trusted him with her life, and Lilya could feel the proof of his desire grow firmer against her hip, and she sighed happily. Prying herself away, she shuffled from him until she felt the soft mountain of pillows at her back.
Not missing a beat, her husband shrugged off the vest and pulled his socks off before prowling over the bed to cage her with his body, not that she was trying to break free. To the contrary, she was quite desperate to have him as close as possible. Lilya could feel him tugging at the half slip around her waist, and she lifted her hips to help him strip it from her. Repositioning himself after he threw the garment to the side, he spread her legs to kneel between them and drew one up to have the back of her foot rest on top of his shoulder. Bending down, he pressed a kiss just on the inside of her ankle, his breath tickling her through the thick white stockings she wore. Further up her leg he went, kissing her calf, the inside of her knee and all the way up to the inside of her thigh, a hand undoing the garter. Then, as he peeled back the woollen stocking, he kissed his way back down to her newly revealed flesh, to where he pressed his first kiss at her ankle.
Lilya watched on as he kept her leg up on his shoulder as he unfastened his pants and wriggled out of them, his hard cock threatening to bulge out of his smalls. She unconsciously licked her lips at the sight of his excitement. Dropping her leg to hook around his middle, she coaxed him to lie down upon her, enjoying his weight against her. He quickly slanted his lips over hers, and she let her tongue lick at the seam of his, moaning at the feel of him responding in kind. Fingers lost in his hair, uncaring that she was messing up his perfectly coiffed ponytail. His fingers were trailing along her body, resting just below her breasts at her ribs, tickling her enough to make her laugh.
"That laugh is just as intoxicating as your little moans," he whispered against her neck, nipping at the skin there. "But you will forgive me, dear wife, if I do my best to only make you moan and scream today." He ground into her, and Lilya automatically surrendered to the pleasure; a soft, happy sigh escaping from her. Finding a rhythm that suited them both, he continued to rock into her, her voice slowly getting louder and her kisses more frenzied, whimpering when he pulled away. Balancing on his forearm, his free hand pulled at the lacy material of her breastband, taking in the full sight of her in front of him. Hair in disarray on a white silk pillowcase, cheeks flushed, lips swollen from his attentions and perfect heaving breasts, nipples pebbling under his watch.
"You are beautiful."
Lilya laughed loftily. "We're doing this all backwards. Married. Seduction. Falling into bed together, and then you tell me I'm beautiful. Maker above, may my mother never find out, or she might come and raze Antiva to the ground for corrupting her daughter so."
He huffed out a laugh in between his sucks and kisses down her chest. "I have a feeling that you would be just as you are anywhere you landed. Just as the Maker made you."
"Is that so?"
He nodded, and she raised an eyebrow in question.
"Mhmm. He made you perfectly for me, of course."
Lilya laughed once again, but her mirth was cut short by the sensation of his warm breath brushing over her nipples. Tongue ghosting over them. Teasing her. But she didn't mind, because he was right. He seemed to know exactly what kind of foreplay she preferred, and she wasn't about to break his concentration when she was enjoying herself so much. Pausing for a moment, his soulful umber eyes connected with hers, and she had the pleasure of watching him wet two of his fingers on the flat of his tongue before slipping his hand into her smalls, the pads of his fingertips pressing on her clit, then moving down her folds to play with her cunt. She watched him smile at finding her slick and wanting. Dipping ever so slightly into her, he drew his fingers back up to draw large circles around her clit, never directly touching it and making her buck into his hand, hoping that he understood what she needed next.
Lilya could see the inkling of a smirk and knew he understood; he was just wilfully ignoring her. Swallowing down a frustrated growl, she told herself she would totally do something… if only what he was doing didn't feel so damn good. The precise circles he made grew smaller with each revolution until finally, finally, he was rubbing her clit, eliciting a shudder through her body. Throwing her head to the side as she began to pant, her husband bit on her nipple lightly, earning him a loud moan, encouraging him to repeat the action.
Doing her best to sit up and take him into her hand and take control, she found herself pressed firmly into the mattress – his voice coming out in a hushed whisper, "Please… let me–"
Another one of her noises cut him off, and she wanted to kick herself. What had he wanted to say? Did he want her to let him bring her to her peak? To watch her as she came? To edge himself by just watching her come over and over again, and never let her touch him? She would have readily said yes to all three, and to more if she were being honest with herself. Her body arched into him, and he licked and sucked her nipple in time with his hand, the muscles in her thighs twitching around his fingers as he continued. Lilya wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him up to her, fingers toying with his hair as she pressed their foreheads together, both staring into each other's eyes as the familiar feeling of warmth and tingling coursed from between her legs with his every stroke. All too suddenly, she was coming, body jerking stiffly in his hold as pleasure wracked through her.
His damned fingers did not stop, strumming at her throughout her orgasm to draw every second out, eyes refusing to leave her as he soaked in each minute detail he could, utterly enthralled.
"I have been wondering what you would look like… sound like… since the moment we met. Since the day you came here, all I've been able to dream about is us together in bed. And now we're here – and everything is better. Sweeter than I thought it would be."
Lilya swallowed hard through her gasps for breath, desperate to calm herself down. "Everything?"
Green eyes watched as his fingers slipped out of her smalls, glistening with her arousal, and popped into his mouth, moaning at the taste of her. "Everything."
If she had not just come… that would have pushed her over the edge. As it was, a thrum of need shot straight down her core, and she knew he could tell.
Stealing a kiss from her before he shuffled back down the bed, he hooked his fingers on either side of her hips and pulled down her underwear along with him, her legs wobbling. Settling onto his stomach, he kissed the inside of her thigh, telling her how pretty every part of her was, how he was going to clean her up and not let one drop go to waste. He told her of his plans to do it over and over again, a blissful loop where he could spend an eternity between her legs, bringing her to the brink with his mouth and feasting on her excitement – her desire. The way he said it stirred something primal in her, perhaps both of them, and had her challenging him to show her, to literally put his money where his mouth was.
Lilya had to admit that the man was… skilled. She knew this to be true from her experience with his kisses, but having him draw that clever little appendage almost lazily against her folds had her anticipating what he would do next. Would he lick at her for hours, or would he tease at her clit? Perhaps he'd curl his tongue inside of her so expertly he'd have her scrambling to climb onto him and ride his face to find satisfaction. All she knew was that her mind went blank the second one finger pushed inside of her, gripping the sheets beneath her tightly. He did not rush, the tip of his tongue tracing her from top to bottom and then flattening to taste as much of her as he could in one swipe, his technique having her sob out in the otherwise silent room. A second finger stretched her, and Lilya had begun to move her hips in time with him, a fist clenched at the hair on his crown, delighting in sensations overtaking her once more.
His fingers pumped in and out of her, speeding up as her body started jerking around him, strong thighs clamping around his ears. Lilya could hear herself telling him not to stop, she was so close and just needed a little more – just a little longer and –
Her second orgasm had her seeing stars, a bright, white explosion behind her eyes that left her whole body tingling and trembling. A part of her told her that it was only so good because she'd been edged for the better part of a week. Plus, with all the fantasising she'd done since he first came into her life – of course, sex would be amazing with him, her mind would not let it be anything else. But the other part, the one drenched in post-come haze, knew differently. He wasn't just good because she wanted him to be; he was good because he wanted to be.
Lilya was still coming down from her high, soft moans escaping her as her own hands traced over her neck and chest, chasing the warmth that still swam through her veins. Her fingers curled into her long hair, unable to stop her grin from spreading from the sudden onset of euphoria that overtook her. It did not help that the madman was groaning into her cunt, savouring her like she was his final meal. She was half-tempted to offer herself up, to let him do as he willed with her; death from pleasure seemed a wonderful way to bid her farewells to the world – if not for the niggling want for him to experience even a modicum of bliss brought upon by her hand. Or mouth. Or any other part of her, really.
Sluggishly, and with great regret, she shuffled back from him, wagging her finger back and forth like she was teaching him a lesson, taking away his favourite toy for being naughty. Mirroring her grin from earlier, he looked up at her as he climbed onto his knees, appearing like every inch a dangerous assassin who had just been denied his killing blow. Almost Amused. Interest piqued. Focused on completing his mission and unwilling to let anything get in his way. Her dearest husband sat on his haunches and licked his lips clean as he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, and with an almost haughty, displeased expression on his handsome face.
"You are making me break my word, wife," he said, voice gravelly with lust. "When I said I would take you over the brink over and over again, I had meant it. And yet I find myself up here, drawn away from where I ought to be… I would not be made a liar."
A laugh full of mirth and warmth filled the room as Lilya, too, stood to her knees and closed the space between them once more. She cupped his cheek and pressed a kiss to his lips, the taste of her still evident on his tongue. Whilst he tried to remind her of the prowess of his mouth, Lilya took the chance to use gravity against him and sidled out of his grasp, and had him fall onto his back to land on the finely embroidered cushions.
"Take heart then, my darling," she chuckled, throwing her legs on either side of him to straddle him, lowering herself to sit on his hardened length, a surge of pride in herself for not just rubbing against him like she had wanted to. "There's always a next time, so long as you manage to survive this time." Cheekily, she pecked him once more and made an appreciative sound at his hands roaming over her back. When she sat up, she bit back a laugh at the needy look he flashed her, trying to bring her back down for another. Tutting at him as she ran her hands up and down his torso, the feel of his fine shirt smooth against her palms.
For a split second, a look of concern crossed his face, and her fingers faltered at the first button she undid. Just as quickly as it appeared, it vanished once he held her stare, and his countenance became resigned, his hands set on her hips as he rolled up into her, both delighting in the sensation. Making quick work of his shirt, Lilya pushed the material off his shoulders and paused, green eyes scanning over his chest. His collarbones. Then the tops of his arms. She did not have to look at him to know that the apprehension that had struck him earlier had returned.
Scars. Cresting along his pecs and collarbones, and ending below his sternum… were they petals?… Feathers? Either way, they were scored deeply into his skin.
They were pretty, in their own way, but it did not make sense for a man so skilled in espionage to have such obvious tells to give his identity away. Tentatively, Lilya's fingers barely skimmed over his scars, the raised flesh still sensitive to the touch, causing the man beneath her to twitch. She could not help but hover over the marks, drawn to them in a mixture of curiosity and care. Lilya knew he was watching her intently, his body stiff with dread. He was checking for any change in her face or how she acted towards him– but all he would be able to see was the worry in her eyes.
"Was… was it done to you with a purpose of pain… or for pleasure?" she asked quietly, fingers tracing over random sections of the scar pattern. Her large eyes swung up to meet his, and she could clearly see the anguish that still resided within him, no matter how cool or suave he may have been.
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, he quietly answered, "Pain."
Lilya could feel her mouth form into a pout at his confirmation, a wrenching in her gut at the idea that someone was sick enough to dream up such beautiful scars for him to wear for the rest of his life. It would have taken hours to carve into his body, and that type of meticulous work was something that the wearer would have had to have endured for days at a time, and that affected her more than she cared to dwell on. Following her fingertips, Lilya bent down and kissed the marks she had touched previously, softly, reverently, like she was the one apologising for the pain he had suffered.
One by one, she kissed each scar across his chest, holding his stare. And with each kiss, she could feel his quakes grow stronger than before. She wanted to show him nothing had changed, scars or no, he was still the beautiful man she had seen from across the market, the one she had said she would wait for, one she would search for. Well, she had found him, and she would claim him.
After kissing the final scar just above his stomach, Lilya shifted out of arm's reach and made herself comfortable between his legs. Rubbing through the material of his smalls and watching him close his eyes made her laugh through her nose, her would-be-husband was so uninhibited in his reactions she could not help but want to see what else he would do with more… encouragement. Pulling back his smalls to free him, she took him in hand and lightly traced her fingers over the silken skin, the distinct feeling of his blood pumping into his already impressively hard length from hermeagre ministrations, filled her with a silly sort of pride. Giving him a few experimental strokes, she was rewarded with a satisfied hum. Thoroughly addicted to his noises, she took him into her mouth, revelling in the way he grunted at her tongue teasing along his tip, one hand still working in time with the bobs of her head.
With each pass, she took more of him, swallowing him down, and he steadily lost more and more of himself to her. When she felt his fingers pull her hair out of her face, Lilya looked up and met his eyes, and he moaned out so loudly she was convinced he was about to come, and perhaps he was, moving away from her, asking her to stop in between heavy breaths.
"Is something wrong?" she asked, sitting up, concerned that she may have hurt him.
He shook his head and reached for her, aligning her body on top of his, soft curves pressed into firm muscle. "No, nothing at all. I just hoped the first time I came, it would be inside of you–"
Lilya did not allow him to finish his thought; a fire sparked by her hunger to have him buried inside of her, filling her. She reached in between them to continue stroking him, but in her haste, did not realise it left her completely open for him to flip her over, and pinned her onto the bed. Accepting her position, she craned her neck to capture his lips, moaning against them when he finally sank into her, moving shallowly at first until she relaxed around him, her body willing him in further.
When he was fully seated inside of her, he held her face all too gently, both of them knowing that this would change everything. Try as they may to tell themselves they were Crows, that they did this for fun, they knew better. There was much more simmering between them than just relieving themselves of an itch; men who only wanted one thing did not draw a line down their lover's nose with their own to nuzzle her, nor did women who felt nothing but lust display such tenderness and concern for her tryst's past pains.
Kissing both of her eyelids closed, he began to move, both of them sighing as he pressed their foreheads together. He sped up slowly, relishing the feel of the wondrous friction they made. Steady fingers grabbed at her thigh, pulling it around his hip to use as leverage to thrust into her even deeper, harder, causing Lilya to keen – music to his ears, or so he'd said before biting down on her shoulder.
"I… I am not proud to say I will not last much longer," he stammered, the effort from pounding into her taking hold of him.
A light laugh filled the space between them, not sharp or biting. "Good, neither will I."
"If I had my way, this… this would have been the way… we both would have spent that afternoon in the market. And well into… into the evening, too," he added in between his breaths. "Wrapped up in each other… almost nothing would be able to m-make me part from you."
Lilya's heart beat ever faster, not only from the stirrings of her release deep inside her, but also from the sheer intensity of his words, his conviction. She knew he was telling her the truth, and how it made her chest feel both full and aching. She didn't think a thing could be possible.
He had picked up his pace and slammed into her, and he looked at her, dark brown eyes filled with adoration and something else, desperation.
"Tell me."
Huh?
"Please. Please. Tell me your name."
Cheeky bastard.
"You… you tell me your name first–"
Lilya swore he whispered 'brat' under his laughter.
"Zalan. It's Zalan."
He didn't care about winning their little game, nor did he care about the sanctity of their contract. Lilya could tell that from his viewpoint, he had already won. She smiled up at him, eyes hazy and touched his face softly just as her walls started to flutter around him.
"Zalan…"
"M-Maker! You saying my name will be enough to undo me–"
"Zal–Zalan de Riva – fuck me– I'm… I'm going to come. Come with me."
His hips stuttered, and he was perilously close, only holding on through sheer will alone. "Your name… please," he begged, eyes shut tight.
"Lilya."
Eyes snapped open and he kissed her, gripping her hip firmly. "It is my greatest pleasure… to finally meet you, Lilya de Riva."
Hearing her name had been helpful; she was convinced she would have forgotten it as she clawed into his back and ass, coming again with his name on her lips. Zalan had been moaning her name out, and she wanted nothing more than to bask in it. He said it like a prayer, a chant. A song, even. Something sacred and filthy at the same time, and she thanked herself for not giving it up sooner; for she'd never been turned on by the sound of her own name until he uttered it.
Lilya whispered for him to let go, to give her what she wanted and fill her as he had promised. Almost as if on cue, as though he were waiting for her command, he spilled inside of her with one of the sexiest growls she had ever heard. Zalan's hips ground against hers before stilling, lying down onto her carefully so as not to crush her. Neither said anything right away, both knowing that they would have months together, boundless opportunities and situations where they could revel in their romance, indulge their desires and study everything that made the other really tick. Now they had stopped dancing around each other; there would be all the time in the world. Favourite foods, favourite memories, hell, favourite positions! Anything that came to mind, they could discuss. Explore.
Easing them onto their side, still inside of her, Zalan softly pushed her hair away from her face, brushing along her temple, her cheekbone and jaw with the back of his fingers, enjoying the texture of her skin. Lilya could not stop staring at him. He was a Crow, a good Crow, and there he was, with all of his emotions plain as day on his face. An absolute failure in their world, yet truly admirable in many others. But his candour meant everything to her, so she would give him the same courtesy. This connection? Chemistry? It only grew stronger as each day passed, and now they had finally been drawn together, hearts pounding in sync, Lilya knew this was bound to be love… or at the very least the start of what would be love if they just let it flourish.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Like what?"
"Like I'm some sort of bloody miracle or something," she giggled, his fingers at her ribs tickling her.
Zalan's countenance turned pensive as he thought over it. "I guess you kinda are, though." He laughed at the look of disbelief she gave him and smoothed down her hair fondly. "I didn't think I'd get to see you so soon, or if you were even going to still be interested in pursuing anything by the time I got back to Salle, but it seems things worked out for the best somehow."
Dark eyebrows rose as Lilya considered his words. "Oh? How so?"
"If I had learned your name that day, if we had had the chance to become something more before I left for this contract, it would have broken my heart to have had to leave you for this long. But a kindly twist of fate–"
"Kortez dying, you mean."
"–Yes, exactly. It meant that you could join me. My sister told me that I shouldn't give up, and because of that, I doubled back to the market and received your reply just before I left. It gave me such hope that I had a chance when I returned, then seeing you in the lobby, my ribbon wrapped around you like my very own present – you can't blame me for thinking you're a bit of a miracle."
Sweet talker.
"You have a sister?"
"Yeah, a younger sister, practically my twin."
"Me too, well, not the twin part. Younger. Precocious little thing," Lilya said, smiling widely. She picked up Zalan's hand and played with his fingers absentmindedly. "Funny thing is, I spoke to her about you, too."
Zalan propped his head upon his fist, still grinning at her. "Is that so? What did you say? Told her how despicably handsome I am? The amazing first meeting we had?"
She rolled her eyes playfully and pinched his arm. "I said that I may have finally found a good man. I had… not too long ago… somewhat of a messy breakup with a long-term partner. She teased me, but much like your sister, she encouraged me to find him. She didn't want to hear too much about him, though; she's so sick of my love life that poor girl. But she told me to go for it, which for Ilene is the same as a giant thumbs up."
A cackle eked out from him a few seconds after she finished talking, Zalan tipping his head back and laughing, clutching his stomach. "Ilene? Your sister's name is Ilene, too?"
"Too?"
"My little sister is also named Ilene. What a terribly small world."
… Terribly.
Lilya slowly extricated herself from Zalan, slowly edging away from him, his softening member sliding out of her, dropping his hand between them as gently as she could, even though a cold shiver ran through her. "Is your sister a Crow, perchance?"
Zalan noted the sudden distance between them but said nothing, only nodding in response.
"Zalan… You're the Zalan!" she screamed, almost falling out of bed. Now she realised, all too late, why that name had sounded familiar. He caught her easily, a strong arm wrapped around her and dragged her back up on top of the mattress.
"And you're Lilya. The Lilya. We finally meet after all these years, and what a way to meet!" he laughed, eyes crinkling happily.
In stark contrast, Lilya felt all the joy drain from her. "We finally meet, that's all you can say?! We… We're practically siblings!"
"But we're not, you do realise that none of us are actually related, yes?" he snorted, trying to pull her back to him. "We share no blood. We just share an Ilene!"
"I don't know how, but that's way worse!" she rebutted, pushing on his chest roughly.
"Look, I know she's a wild child and can get out of hand, but she means well–"
"No, no, no. I'm not doing this."
"Doing what?"
"This. This. I'm not doing this to her again, Zalan."
"Ooh, the way you say my name–"
"Focus!" she snapped, clucking her tongue in frustration. "What did Ilene tell you about me?"
"Uh, she said… that you're amazing. Talented. Beautiful and a princess and–"
"That I used to be in a relationship with Viago. For the better part of five years. Viago – our Crow Master."
That made him pause.
"But you're not with him now, right? You broke up with him before we met. I think I remember Ilene telling me something about that, and I remember Viago being particularly grumpy upon my return prior to meeting you. But Viago's not the problem, I know that. Not with how you act when you're with me, you're not still in love with him."
Lilya shook her head, of course she wasn't still in love with him. Though it would have been easier if it were just about her feelings. "I have caused Ilene enough issues when I was with Viago, and then even more when we parted. You don't understand, how could you? But I can't do this to her again! You are her brother, her twin! That's what she told me about you. If we go any further with… whatever this is… I am going to mess her up even more by falling for every member of her family."
Zalan visibly perked up at hearing the final part of her freak-out.
"Do you mean that? The… what you just said. Did you mean it?"
"I… I, uh, wh-what did I say, precisely?" she stumbled over her words, fully aware of what she had said in her panic. Green eyes scanned the room for her clothes, planning for a quick getaway to run from the blunder she had created.
Sensing that she was about to bolt, Zalan simply let his hand rest on the dip of her waist, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on her stomach. "You tell me, honestly, that you don't feel something real for me, that you haven't got feelings for me, and I'll let you go. I let you go once, I regretted it, and I don't want to do it again – but I could. I can, if your feelings don't go past what happened in this bed." He paused and watched as Lilya mulled over his words. "But, if you can't do it, you will admit it, and you will stay with me–"
"– Zalan–"
A stern look, not too dissimilar from Viago's, settled on his face, another reminder of a link they shared. "Lilya. You will. Because I know I'm in love with you."
She rolled her eyes for real then. He was being impossible. Even if it made her heart race, he was being impossible. "We barely know each other."
"And yet, it remains true."
"You're being ridiculous. What you're feeling is just lust, Zalan. Or obsession or…"
"Tell me what you feel."
"It doesn't matter! What matters here is Ilene. We can't do this to her."
Zalan's mouth turned down at the corners, and again her chest ached for him, but for an entirely different reason. She didn't want to hurt him, but she didn't want to hurt Ilene again either. "Ilene knew that the girl at the market mattered to me. She knew that boy at the market was special to you. She will understand this. And if she doesn't, well, I'll make her understand. And if she still doesn't… I guess she can shoot her arrows at me until her anger subsides and she's bored with it all."
Lilya could feel a smile coming on before she beat it down.
"Zalan…"
"Tell me you don't care about me, I'll let it go, no hard feelings. We'll continue on with the contract like nothing has changed. I promise," he said earnestly, crossing his heart on his bare chest with his index finger.
"I…"
"I swear it."
"… I–"
"Lilya."
"I can't. I-I shouldn't!"
"… But you do."
An expanse of silence blanketed the room, and Lilya didn't know if it was her heartbeat she heard or Zalan's.
"I do."
Relief visibly crashed over him, the tightness in his mouth and shoulders dissipating at her two simple words. Clambering over her to reach the edge of the bed, Zalan retrieved the pretty pink ribbon he'd gifted her and tied it neatly on her wrist. Then searching within his own dishevelled locks, he found the white ribbon still clinging on for dear life and handed it to Lilya, who tied it around his wrist and then held his hand, both ribbon ends secured between their palms.
"Stay with me," he said, squeezing her hand hopefully.
She ran from him before; she did not want to do it again. Squeezing back, she nodded and smiled.
"I will."
Softly tagging as per request: @jenn2d2 @kabsey @davrinsleftpectoral @jukkaricity @sorcerousadventurer @serialsforbellara @blackwall-my-tiny-husband
The next instalment of the Ribbonverse <3
Chapter 3 of 6
Rating: M-ish (some NSFWish stuff)
Pairing: Rook x Rook (Lilya x Zalan)
Word Count: 4808
Thanks to @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for beta-reading and being so patient and helpful with writing this. Much love, darling!!! <3
The first week went surprisingly well. Uneventful for the most part. Mainly going out to tea, going shopping and sightseeing, things that an ordinary couple on their honeymoon would do as they scoped the area. They had their evening meal in the dining room with the other guests and chatted and laughed, and when they got to their room, they noticed two maids in the hallway dusting, Lilya rolling her eyes at their inane gossiping. Yet, something they said piqued her interest.
"They don't seem like honeymooners."
"Shush, Alice! They'll hear!"
"So what if they do? It just proves that they're not doing what newlyweds typically do. Do you think it's a marriage of convenience?"
"Alice. Stop. We shouldn't be thinking or talking about our guests this way!"
"Not one creak of the bed. Not one sigh! According to Madam Mormont, they sure looked loved up in the lobby last week, but to see them walk through here, they looked at best, like warm friends, nothing more. Oh… do you… Do you think one of them fancies someone else? Or maybe he's nobility, and he's using her as a cover, a bought and paid for trophy wife because he prefers the company of men–"
"Alice, enough!"
It did not bother her that they were gossiping about them; what bothered her was that they didn't think they were normal, hot-blooded newlyweds. That was an integral part of their cover. Making her way to the balcony in the middle of the living room, Lilya sat on the end of the lounger where 'Sahin' lay to view the sunset. He looked up at her and smiled softly, asking for her hand, which she gave easily, never sure if someone might be looking at them from afar.
"Is there room for two on this seat?" she asked shyly, moving to lie down beside him, the man shuffling over to accommodate her. He stretched out his arm and let her snuggle into his embrace, Lilya trying her best not to notice how comfortable it felt to be that close to him, how natural his arm fit around her and pulling her into his side as though she belonged there. Lilya reached over and pulled his free hand to cup her face as she looked up at him, eyes flicking between his lips and his eyes. Ensuring that his hand covered her mouth so no one could read her lips, she whispered her concerns to her partner, and he smiled and nodded as though she were sharing a funny anecdote and not explaining to him how they were already failing their assignment.
Bending slightly to press a sweet kiss on her forehead, he tilted her head back with a simple lift of her chin. "Well then, my darling wife, that must be remedied. But… probably not on our balcony, hmm? Somewhere much more comfortable and much more private."
Sauntering back into the room, she waited until he closed the doors and curtains behind them so no one could see them anymore, and she finally relaxed, frustration plain on her face.
"Don't worry too much about what some bored maids say," he said, crossing his arms, looking at her with a kind smile, obviously picking up on her disquiet.
"I wouldn't normally, but the whole reason we were chosen to complete this mission is that the people we're investigating target newlyweds deeply in love. We can't very well be chosen if they think we're just here to sight-see and drink tea."
He shrugged and uncrossed his arms. "What do you want to do then? Go out there and start making out in the hallway? Sure. Let's go," he said, making his way towards the door. Lilya chuckled against her better judgement and stepped in front of him, her hands pressing against his broad chest.
"N-No, not right now. It doesn't make sense for us to do it out there now, and it's too suspicious after that maid said something."
"Oh, so that's not a no to making out in public, but a we'll do it later? Got you. Good to know."
He was infuriating, and yet there she was smiling at him like an idiot.
"We just need to be more showy than we currently are. We are professionals, this won't be a problem."
"Of course not. But do you know what would help foster this professional relationship?"
"What?"
"Maybe if I knew your real name, we could feel closer to each other and feel more naturally inclined to be affectionate in public. And that way, I can call you by your name, and you can do the same behind closed doors, give us a proper break from our covers. What do you think?"
Lilya snorted and crossed her arms. "I think you're going to be a pain in my ass this mission, aren't you?"
"No, of course not. I've only ever had compliments about my performance, no complaints."
Lilya let out an amused huff and let her fingers curl in his vest for a second before letting go and stepping back. "You… You are going to be trouble. I can tell."
Another shrug, another smirk.
She mumbled something about heading to her room for a bath and then turning in. Tomorrow was another day, and she knew if she didn't keep her head screwed on, her heart would go off running rampant.
Bath. Sleep. That was all she needed.
The next day saw them doing much the same in public, meeting other couples and heading out to popular tourist destinations to make themselves well known. Sowing the seeds that they were there on their honeymoon, but that 'Selene's' family were well-known ateliers in Antiva and looked to find a boutique to sell their wares in Nevarra, another fashion-forward, style-conscious country. So they were to be there for a while. Perfect targets for this so-called underground cult gaining traction in the fringe of their society. What they were doing with the couples was unknown, but that was the whole reason the Crows were requested for the job.
They had managed to glean some interesting clues here and there, but there was never a safe place to discuss their findings, and some things were so obscure that speaking in codes and riddles would just not do. They needed to talk when they returned, and they needed to be undisturbed. Greeting Madam Mormont at the front desk, the two were the picture of a perfectly respectable couple until they reached the staircase that led to the second floor, Lilya nodding imperceptibly and was quickly pinned against the wall, her husband's mouth hovering over hers. To anyone passing above them or below them, they were two people whose passions had overflowed. Lilya heard one such couple, clearing their throats as they passed by without a word.
Pretending to be embarrassed, both Crows straightened their clothes and continued upward. But just before the landing, Lilya paused, hearing the same two maids near the end of the hall by their room. Giving him the same signal, she stepped onto the landing and turned around with her arms in the air, her partner understanding her immediately. He scooped her up with an arm around her middle and another under her bottom and spun them both with a laugh. With a strength she hadn't quite expected from him, he slowly lowered her so that her front would slide down against his, holding her to him with an obvious grip of her ass through her thick skirts.
This was all for show; this was only for the contract. Keep your head. Steady your heart.
There was no hovering this time. From their vantage point, they needed to see actual physical contact to stop their useless gossip – now, when their jaws flapped about them, it would at least be to their benefit. Lilya held his face to angle his mouth against hers, breaking apart before they got too lost in it, giggling aloud that his moustache tickled her. Dropping her gently to the ground, he wrapped his arms around her and bent down to rub his face into the crook of her neck and upon her cheek, Lilya laughing loudly and slapping his arm affectionately. Just in time to open her eyes and be 'surprised' that they were not alone. Her slaps became more urgent, and she hissed out his name, and he stopped, acting perfectly unaware until he too looked up.
Clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck, he awkwardly greeted the maids and rushed forward to their room, shielding Lilya from their gaze. Once squared away from them and safe behind their door, he pressed his ear to the wood and heard their muffled giggles and their quick retreat away from their room.
"Gone?"
"Gone."
"So…" Lilya began, pulling off her silk gloves and uncorking a bottle of wine to let it breathe. "Shall we get to work and check the room for any intruders or surprise presents from enemies?"
"Why, dear wife, I thought you'd never ask."
The following day, they returned earlier than expected, and the maids were arriving on their floor just as he had unlocked their door. Without time for explanation, Lilya pulled at the lapels of his fine grey jacket and brought him down, the poor man letting out an 'oof', but recovered admirably, lips moving against hers almost instantly. There was another tell-tale gasp from both of the maids, and that should have been their sign to back into the room slowly, yet there they stood, Lilya with her back pressed into the doorframe as her fake husband brushed the back of his hand on the side of her cheek, and she – Maker curse her – enjoyed the feeling.
Eventually, he took her by her hips and marched her backwards into their room; the heel of his boot knocking the door closed behind them. Lilya could not hear any chatter or rushed footsteps, so she kept kissing him, pressing him into the doorway, her fingers losing themselves in the hair at his nape, tugging at it to inspire a low noise of appreciation from her partner. That got the maids snickering, one tipping over a vase on the table across from their room.
They stood there, listening through the silence, Lilya only able to hear how his breathing had picked up ever so slightly. No one else but another Crow would have paid any notice, but she couldn't help it; she was tracking her own breathing as well and knew that he'd have spotted the change in hers – thankfully, he was gentleman enough not to say anything aloud.
Stepping out of his hold carefully, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and laughed awkwardly. "No harm in being extra sure, right?"
He smiled back at her and shook his head.
She did not miss that he was staring at her lips.
They didn't even check if the maids were down the hall the following evening, just stopping to kiss each other every few steps down the hall. They had been passed by some of the other guests, some more vocal than others about their displeasure at their lack of decorum, but it didn't matter. The more gossip they generated, the better. At least, that was what Lilya was telling herself at the fourth time they stopped, with her perched upon the hallway table, toppling over the vase which rolled around behind her.
Picking her up with little effort, he managed to unlock the door with both eyes shut and only one hand fumbling with the key; the door slammed shut just before the maids could see them.
This time, it was she who was backed into the wall just beside the door, mouth too busy with each other for anything else to register. This was wholly unnecessary, but who could think when they felt like this? It was not until his fingers entwined with hers and he pinned her hand on the wall beside her head. He took the moment she pulled away to kiss at the spot just behind her ear, the feel of his tongue on her skin causing her to moan out louder than she had predicted.
"Sa-Sahin… we shouldn't…"
Without any hesitation, he agreed, stepping away from her with the same amiable grin he always wore. "Well, at the very least, the maids won't be suspicious of us now."
His hand was on the back of her thigh.
His hand was on the back of her thigh!
His hips flush against hers, skirts bunched up at the front to have him as close to her as possible. She wondered if he could feel the warmth between her legs… because she could certainly feel his length pressed right where she wanted him.
He'd never kissed her that deeply before, and before that day, she had never let him. The two were touring the town and sharing hard candies, when one of them made a quiet comment in the store about how sweet their lips would have tasted after their visit… and suddenly, before she knew it, they were rushing up the stairs, barely acknowledging Madam Mormont and found themselves back in their room barely past three bells in the afternoon.
Lilya had lost track of the time. She remembered a brilliant blue sky when they first unlocked their door, and now, taking a peek through the windows, it was past sunset. Had they been glued at the hips – and mouth – for over two hours?! There was a loud chime that flowed down the hall, one of the staff alerting the guests that dinner was being served in the dining hall. They had to make an appearance; it would have been unseemly to have returned so early and not either leave for dinner or join the other people at the inn. They wanted to appear madly in love, not mad with lust.
Lilya moved to get ready for dinner when her husband pushed her back softly, making her look up at him in question, hoping fervently that he wasn't going to ask something she didn't have an answer to. Or worse, tell her that he wanted to stop this nonsense and return to being professional and –
"Do you… do you ever think about me when you wear this ribbon?" he asked, his eyes staring at the reddish pink fabric that was tied around her neck, his umber gaze clouded with want and something else she recognised but did not want to name. She followed his fingers as he ghosted over the exact place the ribbon would be if it were tied around his neck instead of hers. "Do you wear this every day to vex me? Tempt me?"
Lilya licked her lips, and just as she thought, his eyes flicked up to her mouth and then back to the ribbon.
"Please… please do not take it off. And if you must, let it be me who takes it off of you."
With a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker, she nodded, not trusting herself to say anything lest she beg him to continue and move his hands further up the back of her thigh, or in between them.
She wasn't sure how it had happened.
At first, she had asked for help doing up her dress with absurd laces at the back fashioned to look like a spine, damn Nevarrans, and the next, his hands were in the back of her dress and resting on the boning of her corset. Lips on the curve of her shoulder, the top of her dress rumpled around her hips. The carefully crafted chignon she spent ages smoothing down, half undone, loose chunks of her dark hair swept over her shoulder so he could continue licking and sucking up the column of her neck.
Lilya knew it was she who pulled them down onto the plum-hued velvet divan, pushing off his fine jacket and unbuttoning the contrasting waistcoat. Her fingers moved over his chest and down his arms before locking around his neck, legs wrapping around his hips instinctively. The only sounds in the room were their kisses, on their mouths and on any parts of their body within their reach. At the first buck of his hips into hers, his cock straining against his trousers, she whined and dug her fingers into his back, earning her a delicious groan from him.
Why had she been fighting so hard against this again? When it was so obvious how they had felt about each other, even from that day in the markets of Salle?
Knock knock knock
Why had she denied the feel of him lavishing her with his want, especially when she echoed his sentiment? Vehemently.
Knock knock knock
Why was he so good at knowing exactly what she needed? So good with his tongue, from the way it dipped in between her cleavage to the positively sinful things he whispered between–
Knock knock knock
"WHAT?!" he roared, rearing around towards the door, leaving Lilya cold and alone on the couch. Without thinking, he threw open the door, his hair a mess, shirt untucked and gloriously erect through his rather form-fitting pants. The maid, one they hadn't seen before, jumped at the sound and sight, eyes jumping from him (anywhere but him!) and landed on her, reclined on the seat, half undressed and lips swollen from being thoroughly kissed.
"'M sorry, sir… ma'am. But… did you… Did you want your room turned down?" she stammered, staring at a point in the carpet beside his foot.
"No. Thank you," he replied, careful not to slam the door in her face, despite the red-hot rage that coursed through his veins at being interrupted. A small apology from the maid was heard through the door, and 'Sahin' sighed and leaned against the wall, running a hand through his hair, his dishevelled appearance doing nothing to dampen how devastatingly attractive he was. Infuriating. "I wonder why they asked that; they never do that."
Slipping her arms into the dress to give herself something to do so she didn't have to meet his eyes either, Lilya stood up and tried to gather the last of her remaining senses. "It is because we are not normally in our rooms at this time. Usually, we are out and about, so they quickly tidy the rooms and leave… but Madam Mormont must have let them know we were not seen at breakfast or left for any excursions. They had no choice but to knock… if they just used the key… they'd have walked right in on us having – well. I… I'm going to change, and then we can go out. Thanks for your help."
Lilya rushed into her room and did not turn around; she did not dare. She needed to be fully dressed the next time she was in his presence. She needed to make it harder for both of them to find themselves in that mess; she did not need to encourage it. It was the same as throwing a log onto an already raging fire to mellow out the flames- ridiculous. They were being ridiculous. And yet here she was, all too ready to burn.
It was a boon then, that they had separate functions to attend the next day. 'Sahin' had been invited to a gentleman's club where they gambled, smoked, and day drank like good respectable men. There was even talk of an underground undead fighting ring, but no one would confirm if it was true, and he would have to attend to find out for sure. Lilya was asked to join an afternoon tea for charity work where the women would also volunteer time to visit orphans, to spend time with them, darn their clothes and maybe read them a story or two – a much more preferable way to spend her day, she told her partner… but she couldn't deny that she was very interested in a potential skeleton showdown. He had promised to tell her all about it.
They almost kissed each other goodbye as they left the safety of their rooms, both startled at the action but able to laugh it off, too much time spent in character, to which he offered they could drop it properly if only she told him her name.
"If you had to choose… a kiss from me now… or learning what my name is, what would you choose?" she asked, her hand on the doorknob, ready to leave.
"That's not really a choice," he answered simply, leaning against the door so she wouldn't be able to open it.
"How so?" she challenged, tilting her chin up in subtle defiance.
Without any hesitation, he brushed a stray hair back into its place, the pads of his fingertips smoothing it down in what seemed like barely restrained affection. "Because no matter what I choose, it's going to get me in some sort of trouble. If I choose a kiss, you'll say that I don't want to know the real you. If I say your name, you'll say that I'm not being professional. There's no winning for me here."
"Wouldn't a kiss or my name constitute a win, no matter what?" she prodded, walking her fingers up his chest. What the hell was she doing?
"The only choice to be made is I learn your name, and then I get to kiss you… There is no 'or' in this situation."
"I think you're greedy."
"I know I am."
Lilya licked her lips and watched him grin, like getting her to react to him was a trophy all in itself.
"Pity for you, I am in a charitable mood, and not of a mind to bend to one's greed. So then, you shall get nei–"
He was greedy – and he claimed the kiss she was too willing to give.
Before he could move them back towards the couch, Lilya tore herself away and bid him a good day, scurrying out of the door and loitering around Madam Mormont until she watched her husband go. The demon stopped by the front desk to say goodbye to his wife, telling her how much he'd miss her and to stay safe until she was back in his arms. Madam Mormont nearly swooned and took her by the arm, telling her she was so lucky to have found a man like that.
Lilya could only nod and agree.
"However, by the gossip you two have managed to create in the inn, I didn't think you'd say otherwise," Eudora chuckled, bumping her hip into Lilya's.
"Madam Mormont!" Lilya cried out, fake outrage apparent on her face.
"Pish posh! I'm not Madam anything right now, I am simply Eudora, who is delighted to see two people utterly in love. And not afraid to show it!"
"That is certainly a pretty way to say that I've been far too free with my husband in your establishment," Lilya scoffed, sending the older woman a side-eyed glare.
"You needn't worry about that from me, dear. I mean what I say. The young people of today should have fun, love and playfulness in their marriage. Besides, if you can't mess around in an inn with your spouse during your honeymoon in a foreign land… when can you mess around? Enjoy it… especially when you're still flexible enough."
"Eudora!" Lilya cackled, fighting off a wave of scenarios from overtaking her as she thought of all the different ways her 'husband' could use her flexibility to his advantage.
Cracking open the door of their room, the two maids behind her were gossiping madly and trying to keep their eyes on their cleaning, Lilya found her husband already lounging on the loveseat, his slippered feet resting on the coffee table in front of him, wearing what looked to be navy Rivaini cotton pyjamas… the top unbuttoned all the way to his navel… only to reveal a white sleep shirt. It was like he was trying to be a tease on purpose. He finished off the red wine from the glass he held in his hand and appeared to be contemplating whether or not he could be bothered to sit up and refill it with the bottle beside his feet.
Grunting a sound that passed for hello and lifting her hand in a pathetic arch, she unfastened the buttons at her neck and stretched her muscles out as she retreated to her room. Oh, how she longed to rip off the constricting fashions she was forced to wear and just lie down on her bed naked. Or better yet, his. But she was the one who said they shouldn't mix business and pleasure. She was the one who said she could wait and refused to give her name or hear his… Lilya snorted. Perhaps Viago's idiosyncrasies had rubbed off on her after all.
Throwing the deceptively heavy dress onto a nearby stool, she opened her drawers to find a plain white shift to sleep in, pulled out the thousand pins in her hair and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her bedroom door. On the other side was her 'husband'. On the other side was a slew of very bad ideas and an open bottle of wine.
Well … she was thirsty.
Lilya padded out and stood before him, lifting the bottle of wine to closely inspect it. She topped up his glass, which was already almost full, and then stole the rest of the bottle to nurse. Plopping down on the seat beside him, they clinked the bottle and glass together and took a long swig each. Perhaps with the wine in their system… they'd be able to pretend they weren't both right on the edge.
"Should I fetch another bottle, dear wife?"
"Maker, yes."
They awoke on the couch, tangled and warm. Still fully clothed. With their pride still mostly intact.
The same could not be said after another full day of activities together, Madam Mormont sending her a cheeky wink before they left the inn, causing Lilya to blush furiously. A day filled with easy laughter, fun conversation and pleasant silences. Though the closer they got back to the Eternal Rest, the longer their touches lingered. The closer her husband pulled her to him. The less she masked her real reactions and allowed herself just to feel and enjoy.
So, it was no surprise when her husband led her into the alley beside the inn that was used for deliveries and staff to come and go discreetly. Lilya let out a soft breath when she was backed into the cold brick wall, the chill causing her to flinch into him, 'Sahin', all too ready to catch her and steal her lips. And she, too ready to let him take them. They stood there kissing in the shadows like a couple of clandestine lovers seizing any moment they could together. It wasn't until they heard the chatter of some staff leaving for the day that they burst out laughing, Lilya pulling him out of the alley and into the inn, rushing up the stairs, uncaring of how foolish and impetuous and improper they seemed to others.
Kissing him as she unlocked the door, Lilya gasped for breath when he nipped at her neck, the simple action sending tingles through her entire body. She could not remember if they locked the door behind them; all she could register were her hands pushing off his coat and fingers tugging at his tucked-in shirt. At the same time, he had managed to remove her blouse and had her half out of her skirts, both rolling around on his bed in a mad haze to get each other as bare as possible. Lilya found herself on her stomach, her husband on top of her, pressing kisses to her shoulder as he slowly unlaced her corset, giving her every opportunity to say stop.
Warm breath fanned across her cheek, and he was about to say something, when a soft tapping sound caught both their attention.
There, on the other side of the window, was a raven. One they both knew well. Sussuro. Viago's favoured messenger.
Colourful words fell from her husband's mouth as he pried himself off of her and opened the window to take the message from the small bird, bringing her in with an agitated noise. Lilya excused herself to let him read the missive, sure he'd give her the gist of it later, and awkwardly grabbed her belongings and held them to her chest as she left. It… It was for the best, really. This was the world's way of saving her from herself, and honestly, probably Viago's too. She didn't even know what he would say if he found out that they were so unprofessional they were… well.
It didn't matter.
Softly tagging as per request: @blackwall-my-tiny-husband @jenn2d2 @kabsey @jukkaricity @davrinsleftpectoral @serialsforbellara @sorcerousadventurer
Following up from @blackwall-my-tiny-husband 's Chapter 1.5 from Zalan's POV previously, we have the next instalment of the Ribbonverse <3
Chapter 2 of 6
Rating: T - Mish? (eventually explicit)
Pairing: Rook x Rook (Lilya x Zalan)
Word Count: 3430
Thanks to @blackwall-my-tiny-husband for beta-reading and being so patient and helpful with writing this. Much love, darling!!! <3
My husband will be waiting for me… Huh. Takes me back. Before I was taken by those slavers… I think I would have made a great wife, had my life turned out differently. Well. Maybe I can still be a great wife, a great many wives to my fake Crow husbands.
She had been travelling for over two weeks via carriage, learning everything she needed to for the contract. Lilya had barely any time to register what her Master was telling her, packing her belongings for what would be a six-month job in Nevarra. One of their Crows had been left stranded when House Kortez said their Crow had to pull out… due to being dead. Viago questioned it; the timing seemed all too convenient, but it would have sparked true conflict between their houses to accuse the Fourth House of doing anything underhanded to cause harm to the Fifth. And moreover, it would not help his Crow, already stuck in Nevarra City.
Lilya went over all the notes in the brief Viago had given to her, memorised them all by heart and burned the pages and spread the ashes out of the window when they rode at night. One could never be too careful. They were there to infiltrate a secret society and get information about their reach, their goals and the people running it all. They were not there to kill anyone, and they were not to draw any unnecessary attention, only to investigate and report, nothing more.
The cover she was given was easy enough. She learned their stories, the names and dates they both had to know back to front, and forced herself to remember the coded phrases to identify each other properly. They made her stomach turn at how corny they were, but she supposed two love-struck idiots would be prone to saying such things. Never in her life could she imagine Viago saying something like that to her, though… and that may have been the reason they didn't end up working out.
"Not too long now, Ma'am," the driver called out from the front, Lilya thanking him for giving her enough time to get into character. Fixing her heavy skirts, she missed the freedom her leathers gave her. It was much harder to run and fight in these outfits, though it made concealing documents and other things much easier under all the layers. She'd never been to Nevarra for a contract, which would work to their benefit, for she looked the part: naive and young and easy to swindle. Leaning closer to the window and drawing the curtains back, it didn't seem as dark and dull as people liked to say; the locals were wearing such bright fashion, and the streets were clean and lively, if perhaps a little gothic leaning in their aesthetics.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and Lilya's back hit the seat hard, the driver apologising once he opened the door and helped her step out. Her joints were sore from sitting down for so long, and all she wanted was to have something to eat and take a long bath. She could take the time to get to know her partner later; they had six months together after all, it wouldn't hurt to excuse herself when appropriate.
Following the driver into the establishment, The Eternal Rest Inn, Lilya did not bother to hide her wandering eyes. Taking in the artistry of the architecture, the paintings that hung on the walls and checking for all vantage points, should everything turn pear-shaped, and they needed to escape and take cover if under enemy attack. Thanking the driver for bringing in her heavy trunks, Lilya stood in front of the ornate marble desk and noted the lush forest green leather writing pad that seemed both out of place and perfectly matched to the otherwise starkly coloured foyer.
"Welcome to the Eternal Rest, ma'am," the lady behind the counter greeted, offering her a slight bow of her head, a courtesy not seen by many elves. "My name is Eudora Mormont, proprietress of this inn. Unfortunately, we are completely booked out this week–"
"Oh, I already have a booking, I mean, m-my husband is already here," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear to look as sweet and meek as possible. "His name, I mean, o-our name is Valenti. Sahin–"
Eudora's face lit up as she clapped excitedly behind the counter, her hazel eyes twinkling at the sound of the name. Shuffling around the desk to take her by the hands, the older woman squealed like a teenager, her heels clicking on the polished floors as she bounced happily. "Oh, oh! You're Mrs Valenti!" she chirped, three octaves higher than when she had greeted Lilya previously. "Of course you are! Look at you! You're just as beautiful as your husband said you were! Forgive me, it was Sarah, no, that's not it, Serena, no–"
"Selene, madam. My name is Selene Valenti," she replied, offering her a kindly squeeze to her hands in return, delighting Eudora. "A pleasure to meet you, Madam Mormont."
"No, no. It is my pleasure, dear. Your husband has done nothing but talk about you since his arrival, whiling away the days until you joined him. Oh, would you look at me? Taking up your time when I'm sure you're tired and wanting to see him," she chided herself, bustling back to her post behind the counter and pulling at a red velvet rope, the connected bell jingling prettily. "He will be right down, Dear, he's been so excited to have you here with us!"
Unable to curb her nervous energy, Lilya pulled at her sleeves and readjusted the top of her dress once again, failing to find any stance comfortable in the stifling outfit. How she missed all the knives and poisons she had hidden on her person. As it was, she only had one dagger strapped to her thigh and one vial tucked in her corset between her breasts; even under all her layers, she felt so bare.
Hurried footsteps thundered down the stairs, and Lilya knew that had to be the Crow playing her husband. If the roles were reversed, she, too, would have been running down the stairs to get to her 'beloved' as quickly as possible. Not only to play the part well, but to scrutinise who she would be working with. One could quickly surmise the calibre of their partner, whether they were worth their mettle or merely a hindrance. All Lilya had truly hoped for was someone decent enough not to get in her way. Especially as it was someone from her own House, it would be truly embarrassing if they were an absolute travesty.
The footfalls got louder and slower as he approached the final steps, and Lilya took a deep breath. Perhaps her partner would be handsome, or at least funny; she'd go mad if he were boring and her main source of company. Twisting on her heels, she allowed herself to look at the man's shoes, polished black leather that led to neatly pressed dark trousers and matching waistcoat, bright white dress shirt rolled up to the elbows and a rich blue cravat. When her eyes finally reached his face, she could not help the small gasp that escaped her.
The same finely maintained beard and moustache, gloriously tanned skin and deep brown eyes she had seen all those weeks ago. Ebony strands neatly pulled into a long ponytail instead of a bun, but the same sweep of his fringe remained.
The man from the marketplace.
He was here.
He was her husband.
"You…" he whispered, taking the final two steps down, one hand still on the railing. He looked just as handsome as she remembered, and just as shocked as she felt. "It's you… You're here."
Lilya took a step forward and wrung her hands together so as not to run right up to him and jump into his arms. Bold for a wife in public, bolder yet for someone she'd only met once.
"Hello."
"Hello."
His gaze fell to her neck, and a flush of colour flooded his cheeks, eyes widening at the sight. His fingers ghosted over his own neck, as if touching hers, and he smiled. "My ribbon. You've been wearing it? All this time?"
Pressing her fingertips against the fine lace trim, forgetting it was even there to begin with, she chuckled. "Yes, ever since you left it for me, it's not left my person and–" her final words died on her tongue as the man pulled at something behind his head, tugging at it to show her own white ribbon, the same one she left for him at the market. He had managed to go back to the perfume stall before he left for the contract and received the message she had left for him… so he knew. He knew her answer. "And… so I came."
A smile tugged at his mouth, and he was about to step closer when realisation dawned on him. They had been talking as themselves and not their aliases; it was through sheer luck that it still worked with who they were meant to be. Stepping closer to her as a husband would, he brushed her hair back and held her cheek, the ribbon in his palm sliding between them.
"Selene."
"Sahin."
Lilya watched as he breathed out in relief, like he was scared that maybe he was wrong.
“Tesoro della mia vita.”
Ah, the corny coded phrases… it did not sound so bad when it came from him.
She could only hope she didn't sound foolish when she replied to him.
“Chiave della mia anima.”
The smile that appeared on his face from her response was unrestrained, joyous even, and with another gentle brush of his thumb across her skin, he leaned down to press his lips against hers. A chaste kiss. Soft. Pure. Yet it was as jolting as one of her spells and as intoxicating as a bottle of Viago's prized vintage laced with a few drops of Pillow Talk. Lilya relaxed into him, her hands finding his waist and pulling him closer, not enough to be scandalous but enough for any witnesses to avert their eyes and titter behind their hands in polite society.
When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead to hers and looked into her eyes, grinning from ear to ear, causing Lilya to break into one herself, a rosy blush tinting the tops of her cheeks. He looked as if he were tempted to go in for one more until Eudora 'accidentally' rang the service bell before he could steal another.
"O-Oh my! So sorry for the fright! But perhaps it would be best to get darling Mrs Valenti up to your rooms so she may rest after such a long journey from Antiva City, yes? We will send up some tea and other refreshments for you both. Surely, she is exhausted and must want to get into bed – I mean, get some sleep – as soon as possible. Please head on up, I'll fetch Antony to bring her bags up." The owner looked at them as though she had stars in her eyes, practically cooing at the young, loved-up couple.
'Sahin' nodded, stepping back and picking up one of Lilya's hands, patting it affectionately, eyes never leaving hers. "You are absolutely right, Madam Mormont. I forgot myself in my excitement to see my wife. You must be so very tired, love, come then. We will retreat, and you will get the rest you need." He guided her gently, almost as if he were scared to jostle or scare her. Displaying his knowledge of proper etiquette, he allowed her to walk ahead of him on the stairs, maintaining polite conversation about her travels, if she wanted to sleep first, bathe or eat. Lilya answered as sweetly and demurely as possible and never dropped the facade, not until they had reached their room and closed the door behind them.
Waiting for a minute as he stood by the door, he creaked it open to spy out of it and saw the hallway clear of any busybody maids and other staff, but he heard the distinct shuffling of someone climbing up the winding staircases – probably Eudora's son, shambling up the steps with the many bags of his 'wife'.
"Quickly, we only have a minute or two before the boy comes with your luggage. How did this happen? I was told someone from House Kortez was coming. How did it come to pass that you were chosen for this contract? " he asked earnestly, holding both her wrists. Lilya did not know if he had meant it to be an affectionate gesture or if he was monitoring her heartbeats to check for potential deception. Either way, she approved of the action. It showed great care on both a personal and professional level, and that level of competence stirred something inside of her.
Lilya shrugged lamely, unable to provide him with a decent answer. "Sheer dumb luck, truthfully. Well, not for House Kortez… their Crow died. But that left Viago to scramble to find a replacement for you to work with. There was no one available in their ranks suited to the job, so Viago was forced to find someone in ours. Thankfully, I was available to assist. Why… are you not happy to see your wife?" she teased, doing her best to ignore how good the pads of his thumbs felt on the sensitive skin over her pulse.
Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and the man whispered a hushed apology before crashing his mouth upon hers again, the sound of luggage cluttering about 'shocking' the couple to jump away from each other.
"'M so sorry, sir, madam!" the boy cried out, bowing deeply. "I didn't mean to intrude. I- I'll just leave your bags here, and if you need anything, please feel free to ring the bell. I'll… I'll uh… tell Madam Mormont to leave your refreshments by the door only so you can both continue – I mean – oh dear. I… good day to you both!"
Antony closed the door behind him firmly, and the two could hear his footsteps rush down the hallway and the stairs, amusing both of them to no end. A simple peck had the young man so flustered, though if Lilya were to be honest, she was glad he was no longer holding her wrists. Her heart was pounding a little harder than she was willing to admit.
After checking once more that there were no stragglers to listen to them talk, he motioned for them to sit down on the couch, and both chose to sit on the loveseat, knees almost touching from how close they were. Her husband was collecting his thoughts, and Lilya watched him closely, unsure which of the possible thousand notions swirling in there would be voiced, but she was no longer in a rush. All the fatigue and desire to shut herself away vanished the moment she saw his face.
"I did not think I would be so lucky to see you again so soon. If only Viago had sent word that someone else would be coming, I'd have… I don't know. But I'd have greeted you better somehow. Not seemed like such an amateur on our first mission," he gushed, a hand running through his beard in an anxious motion.
He was adorable.
"Even if Viago had sent word, told you someone from our House was coming, told you my name, you would have had no clue it would have been me coming anyway. You still don't know my name; you only know me by Selene." Lilya could not help but tease him a little, lighten the mood and reignite the cat and mouse game they had placed on pause until next they met. Decadent chocolate eyes flicked up to hers, and he nodded in agreement. There was little either could have done to have prepared for the happy happenstance. They would just have to navigate everything as professionally as they could; it would be foolish to embark on a new relationship or even a dalliance with your partner during a contract. They needed focus and trust, and if something were to go very wrong, it could be possible that weaknesses would be exploited, and their covers blown.
"You bring up a good point, I should learn your name, Mrs Valenti," he said, smirking at her, twisting the simple gold band on his ring finger.
Lilya huffed and shook her head, waggling one slender finger between them. "Uh-uh, Mr Valenti. You still have to find that out on your own. Besides, it would be much safer to only refer to each other by our contract names, right, Sahin?"
He gave her a withering look, but there was a fire behind his stare.
"If that is what my dear wife wishes, who am I to deny her? Of course, darling Selene. I look forward to peeling everything away from you and learning all there is to know. Every little secret you keep and make it mine."
If any maids were listening, they’d have been beside themselves with the man's perceived double entendre.
"Why, my darling, I look forward to it."
A stretch of silence splayed out between them as they stared each other down, Lilya realising all too quickly that instead of nipping their flirtation in the bud, she had only fanned the flames. Remembering herself, she abruptly stood up and asked which room was hers, noting there were two doors on either side of the main living area. Viago had spared no expense to show that the couple staying there had considerable means.
"What, are you really retreating so soon, dear wife?" he smiled at her, looking more like a roguish fox than the gentleman she had been speaking to not a moment ago. "Should we not take a moment to discuss what has passed since we parted? Should we not regale each other in tales unknown and reminisce about fond memories past?"
This charming bastard.
Lilya took a step towards him and picked off a piece of lint that had fallen on his shoulder, brushing the place clean and enjoying the feel of his sturdy shoulder under her palm. "And what memories are those? The way you greeted me in the lobby? Or the one time we had met in the market? Surely it can wait, no? I have been on a long journey and probably smell of leather and horse and–"
He closed the space between them, large hands finding the small of her waist and pulling her against him, pressing the tip of his nose against the pulse at her neck, breathing her scent in deeply. It instantly took her back to them in front of the perfume stall, the heady feeling of their attraction weighing down upon them both. A low hum of approval rolled in the back of his mouth, almost like he was savouring a sweet instead of smelling her, and Lilya swallowed instinctively.
"I only smell … you. And as expected, you smell divine."
Lilya's hands found his and clasped around them tightly, unsure if she was going to tear them off of her or hold them to her firmly.
"Perhaps you can join me for the refreshments that Madam Mormont is sending up to us; I'm sure they won't be long. If you want to freshen up, I'm happy to wait out here until you're ready and we can continue our discussion."
The charming, rat bastard. He had no intention of making this easy for her.
"Then you may be sitting out there for a while, Mr Valenti, for I have no intention of speaking about certain topics until we are safely back in our home of Antiva."
Oh, that caught his attention!
"W-what? Not at all?"
"We are here on our honeymoon, Sahin. We should focus on that. Or are you not able to wait?"
Her 'husband' scoffed and licked the inside of his cheek as he mulled over her words. "I can wait if you can."
Though as she closed the door on his confident smirk, she suddenly longed for a boring, plain-looking man she had previously worried about working with. At least the boring guy would have made the contract easier to fulfil, with full focus on the directive. With this one… she would have to mind herself and him and the mission – and something was bound to give.
Softly tagging as per request: @jenn2d2 @kabsey @davrinsleftpectoral @jukkaricity @sorcerousadventurer @serialsforbellara
