#vulpes animus

[the-melting-world]

🌺Vulpes Animus: The Complete Set🌺

The Gardener (AO3 LINK)

The Umbra (AO3 LINK)

The Magician (AO3 LINK)

[the-melting-world]

going to explore this more in Vulpes Animus...

Asra's appearance unconsciously becoming more like Salim's with age. He finds an old pair of his father's glasses one day on a trip to Zadithi where he runs into former academic colleagues of the long lost Alnazars.

Asra doesn't get much of a lead on the location of Salim and Aisha, but he comes back with the glasses. He struggles to pursue his parents' whereabouts in the most ethical ways he can, but the temptation to make deals with Arcana or dip his toes back into darker areas of magic always haunts him. As court magician to the Countess, he gets mistaken more and more for his father by foreign scholars visiting Vesuvia. He leans into this, growing his hair long, shaving less, and relying on the glasses outside of reading.

There is a sad comfort he finds in being mistaken for Salim. Part of him has accepted that he will never locate his parents or be reunited with them or their remains. This familial resemblance and closeness to magical study is all he has.

[the-melting-world]

I have to thank @ace--of--swords for this dreamy moment of Kipling and Asra. This is exactly how I imagined them snuggled up with their books.

I'm really happy with how they turned out. 💞💞 Thanks again!

[the-melting-world]

The Umbra pt.6

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener leads a friendly hermit to a magical foxhole…

~ 1k words

Catch up on the Vulpes Animus Series

art by @ pxkibu

Kip couldn’t believe that she was willingly going back to the Palace gardens. Back to that haunted-looking foxhole no less.

Had she known Muriel well enough, she would have sought his hand for comfort, as she often did with Nadia or Portia whenever she walked in the vicinity of the magical abyss. At the moment, she didn’t even have Taro to calm her nerves. Too self conscious about the lemur reflecting Kip’s own jitters, she left Taro at home to tend to what few plants were still thriving in her apartment.

Kipling noticed that Muriel released his wolf familiar into the closest patch of woods on their way to the Palace. When Kip asked if Inanna would be all right since there was no telling how long Muriel would be gone, he assured her that she could take care of herself.

“Thanks for not freaking out by the way. I meant to introduce you to her the night before.” Muriel said as they passed through Palace gates. Kip hoped that he wouldn’t notice how the vines wrapping around the iron poles had gone dead and brittle.

“I figured she was yours by the way you two were snuggled up. And Taro didn’t seem to mind her.”

The rest of the journey to the foxhole was made in silence. By the time they made it to the den blanketed in moss and colorful fungi, Kip was searching for the words that would get Muriel to reconsider.

She decided to tell the truth.

“I had a dream last night where I saw Asra.”

Muriel turned his wide green eyes on her. “What did he say?”

Kip expected that she would have to convince Muriel that this was no regular dream, but he seemed to be familiar with contacting Asra this way.

Unsure of how he would react to what she was about to say, Kip folded her arms and took a couple of steps back. Between Muriel’s urgent stare and the weight of the foxhole’s ominous aura, she couldn’t help but feel defensive.

“Asra made it very clear that… he doesn’t want you to go after him.”

Muriel exhaled and gestured in frustration at the foxhole. “Well, what did you expect for me to do after bringing me all the way here!”

“I didn’t say that I agree with him!” Kip snapped. She turned her back on the magical hole. “I’m just… I don’t know if this is the right thing. For you to go alone. Asra’s been there all this time and didn’t find what he was looking for. Still, he looked like he didn’t want to leave.”

“And he told you to stay away so that you wouldn’t get hurt?”

Kip’s hold on herself loosened a bit. She looked up at Muriel and wordlessly nodded.

Muriel groaned. Dragging his palm over his face, he said, “Asra always talks like that whenever he’s trying to fix something and he gets stuck. He can be so stubborn about these things. The stories I could tell you…”

Once again, Kip was struck with the realization that she knew so little about Asra. As connected as she felt to him, she had no frame of reference when it came to his history with handling heavy conflict. Here Kip was, confused as hell, standing before someone who was familiar with Asra’s actions, but had been left in the dark all this time.

“Please don’t beat yourself up over this, Kip,” Muriel said after only a few seconds of seeing her reaction.

Kip’s arms finally unraveled as she let go of a weighted breath. “I’m trying not to. Really, I am.”

Muriel scratched the back of his neck in uncertainty. His moss green eyes flitted back and forth from Kip to the foxhole.

“I can understand if this sounds like a bad idea to you, but I think it would be easier if…” Finally his eyes settled on her. “If you come with me.”

Kip was speechless. She never considered braving the magical realm with someone at her side. Someone who knew Asra in ways she didn’t. Muriel didn’t seem like the type who would fold so easily under Asra’s protests.

“I’m scared to go by myself,” Muriel confessed. “And when it comes to the Magician, I don’t know if I could talk to them without losing my temper.”

Kip blinked. “Why is that?”

Another flash of anger took hold of Muriel’s features as he explained, “They helped Asra through all of this. They practically encouraged him to dig himself deeper into this mess. And based on what you told me, they’re trying to drag you into it too. What’s the point?”

Kip had definitely wondered about the Magician’s motives in the past. She shrugged. “I try not to think too hard about these things. The Arcana aren’t humans. Their logic doesn’t always make sense to us.”

“It doesn’t make any sense at all.” Muriel grumbled.

Kip drew closer to him, confident that he wouldn’t brush her off if she rested the tips of her fingers against the studded leather bindings around his wrist. When he didn’t shy away, she said, “Muriel, I think the Magician is okay with letting Asra fall as long as it means he can see where his decisions will lead him. They want Asra to use his free will to figure out things on his own. At the same time, they want him to have a chance to come back when he’s wandered too far.”

Kip sighed and withdrew her hand, but Muriel caught her fingers between his much larger forefinger and thumb.

“We’re his only chance, then.” He realized. “Asra wandered too far and we’re the only ones who can bring him back. That’s why the Magician reached out to you.”

Kip’s heart began to beat a little faster as she felt herself agreeing with Muriel. Finally, she faced the foxhole with more certainty than before.

“Together?” Muriel whispered, the hopefulness in his tone was almost too faint to notice.

Kip stared at the dark hole for a few moments before she anchored her hand more securely in Muriel’s and took the first step forward.

“Together.”

[the-melting-world]

The Umbra pt.4

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener entertains more than one guest...

~ 1.1k words

Catch up on the Vulpes Animus Series

Kipling did not expect to see Consul Valerius standing in her doorway. 

“Bronne,” he greeted, clipped but still a bit breathless. As if he was relieved that he had found her. When Kipling invited the Consul inside, his face rearranged itself into a sneering facade at the sight of Muriel hunched over the small dining room table.

Kip froze in uncertainty. That’s right. She already had a guest. Should she introduce Valerius to Muriel, or…?

“I can come back when you’re finished having company,” Valerius said, still regarding Muriel, who heavily regarded him back.

Kip collected herself. “No, just follow me this way.” The last thing she needed was another awkward conversation. So she guided Valerius to the room with her furniture, books and plants for some privacy.

As soon as they were alone, Valerius said, “You didn’t tell me you were leaving the Palace, Bronne.”

Kip crossed her arms. “I honestly don’t see why I had to.”

Valerius pursed his lips. “You didn’t, but you know, seeing how everyone seemed to know except for me. That wasn’t a pleasant feeling.”

Kipling closed her eyes, sighed and untucked her arms. “I didn’t mean for things to go that way. I wasn’t trying to hurt you that time, Valerius. I’m sorry.” 

“I’ve been very insensitive to you,” Valerius admitted coolly. “If I had known my petty jabs were going to cost me the company of one of the few people I can stand in that place–”

His next words came out muffled against Kipling’s unexpected kiss. She held it briefly until the tension in Valerius’s lips dissolved. Before the heat between them could really build, Kip took a step back.

“Don’t worry, Consul. I’ll still make deliveries to the Palace every now and then. But thank you for coming to say goodbye.”

Valerius was blushing, but he averted his eyes and went about adjusting the ram head broach on his shoulder. “You’re welcome, Bronne.”

After Kipling escorted Valerius out, she returned to her kitchen to find Muriel blushing as well. He kept his gaze fixed on his teacup, which was very empty.

“I’m sorry if you heard all that,” Kip said as she approached, a slight weight lifted from her shoulders.

Muriel cleared his throat and changed the subject. “What kind of tea is this?”

Kip smiled, picked up the kettle and poured him some more.

“It’s lemongrass.”

Muriel’s eyes still hadn’t left the cup. “It tastes very… healthy.”

Kip stopped pouring and gave him a look. She didn’t know whether to take that as a compliment or something else.  

“That’s probably because it’s made from a plant, Muriel.”

Finally, the green-eyed man turned to her. His tone was apologetic and slightly panicked as he blurted, “It’s good is what I meant.” 

Kip had the urge to touch his shoulder, so that he would know that she took no offense, but instead, she offered a warm smile and said, “Thank you. You can have as much as you’d like.” 

Muriel looked back at the tea and mumbled a thanks. Kipling sat across from like before, looked down at her own cup and sighed. She had questions for Muriel. Questions about Asra. But she didn’t want to pry and she didn’t know if she could ask them without making a fool out of herself. 

“So,” Muriel said, dragging her out of her reverie, “you’re a gardener.” He glanced up at the light fixture above that was overflowing with ivy and then over at the philodendrons crowding the window. 

Kip nearly snorted into her cup. There was just something about Muriel’s delivery and his facial expressions that seemed to lighten her mood faster than she expected.

“Yes,” she said after swallowing her tea. “I also prepare arrangements and deliver them to different parts of the city.”

Muriel grunted and cast his thoughtful gaze about one more time. “I have a garden at my cabin.”

Kip stayed silent, guessing that there was more.

His gaze settled on her. “You could visit sometime if you want. Things grow there, but I don’t really have anything organized.” Then he glanced down at his once again empty cup. “You can borrow some space for some of your lemongrass plant if you ever need to.”

They kept on going like this for some time. Kipling barely noticed that the sun was creeping lower and lower in the sky. When the tea ran out, she didn’t think twice to get up and start preparing something to eat. Muriel made no move to stop her. She asked him if he had any aversions to what she was making. When he said no, she proceeded to put together something simple and hearty.

Later after the sun had gone down and Muriel was spooning the last bit of dirty rice and bean sauce into his mouth, Kip put down her own spoon and said, “What if… you didn’t leave?”

Muriel’s eyes widened a bit as he swallowed. “What are you talking about? Like what if I stayed here? Tonight?” 

Kip started to explain so that he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. “It would just be easier for both of us in the morning. You won’t have to make the trip from the forest back to South End. It’s already dark and I have room...”

Muriel hesitated.

This was so embarrassing. 

“Muriel, hear me out. You are… the first person I have talked to about Asra without it hurting so damn much.” 

To Kipling’s utter astonishment, the green-eyed man met her gaze and nodded slightly.

“You too.” Then his lip quivered ever so slightly. “I miss him.” 

Once again, Muriel’s delivery caught her off guard. Kip tried to say that she missed Asra too, but instead, she just started to cry. 

Muriel saw what was happening across the table, but he didn’t know what to do with his hands. He barely knew Kipling. How could he possibly comfort her?

In the end, Muriel got up, walked out and came back with a quilt from Kip’s sitting room. He draped it over her shoulders and helped her onto her feet.

Kip weakly protested as he guided her towards her couch.

“Just lie down.” Muriel said, his voice a strange blend of gruff and comforting. “Sleep until you’re not tired anymore.”

Kipling, too out of sorts to see Muriel out the door, curled up as tightly as she could. She pulled the quilt over her head so Muriel would no longer have to see her tear-wrecked face. She knew then that the only way to escape the sudden sadness was to lose consciousness. 

So she surrendered to the warmth of the tears and let sleep take her.

[the-melting-world]

The Umbra pt.3

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener welcomes a guest…

~ 1k  words

Catch up on the Vulpes Animus Series

art by @ pxkibu

“Well, you managed to do it,” Kipling muttered to herself as she unlocked the door to her shop. “You got yourself fired from your dream job by the most kind, compassionate employer in all of existence.”

At least Kip still had her part time gardening and landscaping business. She didn’t mind downsizing from her quarters in the Palace conservatory back to her humble apartment in South End. But she couldn’t help feeling like she had regressed career-wise. Besides, she was going to miss the Palace. All of its rooms and secret nooks. She would miss bumping into Portia, getting caught up in the work gossip and taking their chat into the kitchens for a spontaneous snack or dessert. She’d miss chasing Taro through the gardens only to bump into Consul Valerius, who always pretended he wasn’t pleased to see her. 

But most of all, Kipling was going to miss the Countess. Nadia always found a way to set aside time in her schedule to check up on Kip throughout the day. And whatever she needed, Nadia provided, most of the time without a request. Nadia also had a way of surprising Kipling with irresistible leisurely excursions when she least expected it. Those trips always made Kip’s hard work worthwhile.

But now the only company Kip would have to get her through those long work hours was Taro and her plants. The former of which was behaving much more energetically than normal. Kipling only became alarmed when the lemur started clawing at her hair.

“Taro! What’s up with you today?” Kip, who was in the process of unlocking her front door, paused everything to deal with yet another one of her familiar’s tantrums. Taro gave her curls one last yank before leaping off of her head and scurrying in the opposite direction.

Usually, Kip would have let the lemur go, but Taro’s strange behavior warranted some sort of investigation. Kipling wheeled around and saw Taro bounding across the street towards a great, dark hooded figure.

No. It can’t be.

Kipling recognized the silhouette. It was the same shape of the one who followed her and Asra to her shop that evening. She was sure of it.

Now it was daylight and they were back?

Kipling stared the figure down. “Hey!”

They jolted and turned away. 

“Hey!” Kip broke out into a run. “Come back!”

When it was clear that the stranger had no intentions of doing so, Kip’s fingers twitched, grasping at the magic that would let her unlock invisible doors.

***

“You said your name was Muriel?”

The powerfully-built man with the shaggy black hair and gentle green eyes accepted the cup of tea Kip handed him and nodded his head.

“Yes,” he said very softly.

Just moments before, Kip was tackling – or at least giving it her best shot – this man to the ground, demanding to know why he was hanging around her apartment. 

The neighbors must think I’ve lost it.

After much awkward tension, the man claimed that he knew Asra. At those words, it was like a switch had flipped. Kipling apologized profusely and before she even realized what she was doing, she invited him back to her apartment for tea.

“So how do you know Asra?” Kipling asked once they were both sitting down.

She noticed all the emotions passed over Muriel’s features before he finally answered.

“We’re very old friends.”

Kipling sensed there was a lot of history there, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead, she lowered her gaze and said what she had been thinking as soon as she learned of Muriel’s connection to Asra.

“You’re looking for him, aren’t you?”

Muriel looked up suddenly. “How did you know?” 

Kip met his gaze.

“You didn’t,” Muriel’s jaw tightened as if in pain, “have anything to do with him disappearing, did you?”

Kipling almost burned her hand from squeezing her cup so hard. “What?” Then her memory suddenly leaped backwards in time and she blurted, “That was you, wasn’t it? The cloaked person that followed me and Asra back to my shop that night!”

Muriel flinched as if struck. “I was just trying to look out for Asra. He’s got that pact with the Magician that affects his eyesight. I check on him sometimes...” He swallowed, looking as if he really wanted Kip to believe him, but didn’t know what else to say.

She sighed. “That makes sense. We were out pretty late. But Muriel, that’s kind of creepy.”

He exhaled too. “I know how it looks. I’m trying to work on it, but…”

Kip could tell that this nervous, mountain of a man needed some reassurance. So she reached out her hand and rested her fingertips lightly against his forearm.

“You’re a little shy, I take it.”

Muriel’s eyes fixated on her hand. He looked as if he was trying to fight off the blush that threatened to take over his whole face.

“Right. Just a little.”

Kip took her hand back. She didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

“Please,” she said, “you don’t have to be that way around me. Trust me, I understand. I’m a little shy myself.”

Muriel’s eyes widened so fast, it was almost comical. “You screamed at me from across the street and then fell out of the sky on top of my head. Are you sure you’re shy?”

Kip groaned in embarrassment and pressed her palm to her forehead. “I’m so sorry about that. It’s been a rough day.” 

And then just as quickly as he had accused her, Muriel said, “It’s all right. You’re… not that heavy anyway.”

Kipling couldn’t help it this time. She laughed. Not loudly or for very long, but it was genuine. Muriel didn’t join her, but she could tell from the lightness in his expression that he was entertained. He stayed that way until Kipling came down from her laughter.

Then his features grew heavy. “Kipling? Do you know where Asra is?”

Kip exchanged a glance with Taro, who was curled up by the window.

“I do.”

Before Muriel could say anything else, she said, “I can take you there tomorrow. But for now, I’m tired and I just want to try to get some sleep.”

Muriel nodded. “I understand.”

Kip smiled gently at him. “You don’t have to leave just yet. We haven’t finished our tea.”

Muriel and Kipling held each other’s gazes as they brought the cups to their lips at the same time.

Before they could take their first sip, they heard a loud, insistent knocking at the door.

[the-melting-world]

The Umbra pt.2

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener goes on hiatus...

~ 860 words

Catch up on the Vulpes Animus Series

art by @ pxkibu

Kip walked into her private suit in the top floor of the conservatory refreshed, but restless. 

Why couldn’t it have been Asra she just came back from sharing a bath with? No matter how much she closed her eyes and tried to imagine her experience with who she actually wanted to be with, it wasn’t happening. 

To the Consul’s disappointment, Kip had not invited him back to her quarters. She didn’t even let him give her a kiss goodnight, which she knew was a little cruel, but honestly, she didn’t care. Valerius shouldn’t have brought up Asra. He knew better than that.

“I’ll make it up to him later,” Kip grumbled as she sat down on the edge of her bed to braid her hair before lying down. Taro came into her lap and began to make inquiring kroo-kroo noises, tilting her purple head this way and that.

“I’m fine, girl,” Kip lied. “I just want to go to sleep.”

And Kip tried to do just that. But she was up all night. Tossing, turning, groaning. Thinking about Asra. Wishing he was there to hold her and help her be still.

But that wasn’t going to happen.

Somewhere between dawn and true morning, Kipling fell asleep.

***

“Kipling? Kip? I’m really sorry, but you’ve got to wake up.”

Kipling opened her eyes slowly. Her head still felt heavy with sleep. She wanted to close her eyes again.

“No, no,” said the voice again. “Stay with me. Up you go.”

Kipling groaned as she was brought into an upright position. Finally, her eyes were beginning to register the familiar bright blue eyes and bouncy auburn curls.

“Nnnn. Portia?”

“Kip, you look terrible.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and offered up a rolled up cloth. Kip took it and sighed in happiness to find that it was damp and very hot. She unrolled it and buried her face inside the rough heat.

“I think I slept through all my alarms. Again.”

Portia was quiet for a moment. “Kip? The Countess wants to see you.”

Kipling swallowed. “Oh. Okay. Just let me get dressed.”

Portia waited for Kipling outside while she washed up. Taro rode on her shoulder on the way to the Countess’ tea parlor. While they were passing through the gardens, Kipling made sure to avoid looking in the direction of where she knew the foxhole lay. The same foxhole that the Magician had lured her into the day before Asra left.

Taro did what Taro was always prone to do whenever the two of them passed through this area. She tried to leap out of Kipling’s arms. No doubt to scurry into that magical pit. 

“Hey, Kip?” Portia looked over at her. “Is everything okay with Taro?”

Kip pretended to smile as she wrestled the squirming lemur under her arm. “Yep. Everything’s fine. She just gets a little antsy around this time of day.”

It was probably the worst lie Kipling ever told, but Portia didn’t press the matter. Soon the two of them were standing before the Countess. Both Nadia and Portia had sympathetic smiles on their faces before the conversation even started. Still, Kipling felt uneasy. 

She knew exactly why she was here. Ever since Asra left, Kip had struggled managing her new position as the palace gardener. She was always behind on ordering shipments of the necessary plant arrangements. The upkeep of the different arrangements throughout the Palace were suffering. So were the plants in the garden. It wasn’t the case that Kip’s magic wasn’t working. She just… couldn’t find the energy to really invest in getting things right. Whenever she tapped into her green magic to use it for something work related, her mind was always somewhere else. She couldn’t focus all the way.

“Kipling? Did you hear what I said?”

Kip shook her head, mentally scolding herself for zoning out again.

“I’m sorry. What was that, Nadia?”

Nadia and Portia exchanged glances, in between which Kip realized that neither of them had touched their tea.

Nadia took a breath before saying, “You’ve done so much for me already, but I think it would be in your best interest if you took a break from your duties at the Palace. Just for a little while.”

Kipling felt her heart sink. Nadia couldn’t have been any more tactful, but her message was clear: You are still hung up on Asra leaving and it’s affecting your performance.

Kipling didn’t blame Nadia for coming to this decision. She had been internalizing her own disappointment in herself this entire time. If anything, she should be grateful that Nadia was letting her off the hook. But as Kip plastered a smile to her face and thanked the Countess for being so understanding, she couldn’t help feeling like she let not just her, but the entire Palace staff down. 

Kip was tired of letting people down. She was tired of wishing Asra had stayed or at least let him go with her. 

She was tired of feeling like no matter what she did, she wouldn’t be good enough for any of the people or things that truly mattered to her.

[the-melting-world]

The Umbra pt. 1 🍋

Vulpes Animus ~ In which a humble gardener unwinds after a long day...

~ 790 words

cw: lemony content ahead 🍋

Catch up on the Vulpes Animus Series

art by @ pxkibu 

“As above, so below.”

Kipling couldn’t stop thinking about the reading she got that afternoon in Center City’s Marketplace. She was picking up some shipments of ficus plants for the Palace when she was called out by one of those alleyway tarot readers.

It had been a long time since Kipling had a reading. She was still waiting on her shipment, so she thought what the hell.

As soon as the reader pulled the Magician card, Kipling’s stomach dropped. Then she ended the reading immediately, not caring or wanting to hear the reader’s protest. She dropped some coins on the blanketed table and got out of there as fast as she could.

As above, so below – the mantra that was typically associated with the Magician’s card played over and over in her head all day. Even now while she was bare, comfortably submerged in hot water and scented oils with her spine leaning up against the right side of the Consul’s chest. He lathered her shoulder while languidly prattling on about the incompetence of the Vesuvian court. Kipling was supposed to be detangling her hair, but she was so lost in thought that all she ended up doing was winding her finger around her ghost lock.

“Your head is somewhere else, Bronne,” Valerius realized.

Kip unloosened her finger from her lock and let her hand fall into the bath. Perhaps a bit too quickly.

“Don’t worry about it. Go on, Val.”

“Why should I when you’re not even listening to me?” Despite his words, Valerius didn’t sound wounded. Only dimly irritated.

Kip tried to distance her mind from what was bothering her by grinning up at the Consul and giving him a playful pout. “Whining already? We haven’t even made it to the bedroom yet.”

Valerius blew a puff of air. “Whining? You’re one to talk, Bronne. All you ever do is mope around the palace, chasing the shadows of that flighty magician.”

Kip pried herself off of the Consul and started to help herself out of the bath. “I told you never to mention him.”

Valerius shifted. “Bronne? Where are you going?” He touched her arm and tried to gently guide her back to him. “Come back. My tongue slipped. It won’t happen again.”

Kipling clenched her teeth, but she wasn’t surprised. She supposed that was about as close to an apology as she was going to get from Valerius. Usually she didn’t mind the courtier’s jabs. In fact, she often welcomed them. It was like coming home to an acupuncture treatment after a long, tense day at work.

But tonight, his sharp tongue wasn’t having the same effect.

Kipling straddled the Consul without warning, shifting the water in the drum abruptly enough to spray his face.

“Hey!”

Kip interrupted his lips with her hand. “Shut. Up.”

He didn’t. “I thought we were going to have a relaxing evening tonight, Bronne.”

“You can relax when I’m done with you.”

Kipling replaced her hand with her mouth, kissing him in a way she usually wouldn’t. She wasn’t gentle, not even when she nipped him. Valerius dug his nails into her impatient hips and cursed against her lips, but when she made it clear that she wasn’t backing down, he softened finally and started whispering real apologies. 

Kip withdrew a little and took in the Consul while he was momentarily tamed. She reached for his hands at her waist and brought them to rest along the edge of the bath. 

“Keep those where I can see them.”

She continued to study her handiwork as she settled snugly around his stiff cock. His glossy lips were fairly swollen and a little bruised from where she had nicked him. Still Valerius bit them in what Kip knew was frustration. Because he knew that he would be getting no more of her soft touches and kisses while she rode him. 

“Will you at least pull my hair, Bronne?” Valerius grunted as Kipling grinded him slow and deliberately.

“No,” she said softly, her brown eyes reading dark despite their lighter shade. “And don’t even think about trying to taste me. I see how your eyes wander, Consul.”

Valerius tore his cloudy gold gaze from Kip’s tempting piercings. 

“But you’re so hard,” he noted with a wry grin. “And you love it when I taste you. So why torture yourself this way, Bronne?”

This time Kipling dug her nails into his shoulders as she engaged her thighs, fanning them out so the next roll of her hips hit deeper, harder.

“Fuck!” Valerius hissed.

“That’s right,” Kipling said again, softer this time. “Let’s focus on fucking, understand Consul? As far as what’s going on with me…”

As above, so below.

“That’s none of your damn concern.”