Through A Glass, Darkly (mature)

Quote:

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Closed to Amari. The start runs alongside Of Wolf and Man

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The Day Before - Rated Mature

The snowflakes on the window pane did not help.

As she wiped them softly aside with a mittened hand her eyes peered. Straining, they had been searching for some aching minutes now, trying to find the correct window. Goat legs carrying her over the roofs and balconies of the Salvarian city, she had been looking as soundless as her mode of transport could provide. Naturally there were times of thudding. Else, there were times of cries, when the snow slipped from under her hoof and cascaded down the slope towards the ground. With strong arms she would catch herself, grabbing whatever tile was closest at hand, and as her heart thumped wildly at the close call she would question herself again and again - did this really matter?

Yes, she decided. Yes it did. If Shinsou really was this keen on Amari Ciel L'Olfsden Philomel needed to know. It was part of her right as close friend, and potential lover.

Once more, Philomel found the wrong window. Yes, she knew the name of the tavern that Amari was staying in (namely, the Silver Cup) but the place was huge. As she pushed the everlasting falling snow aside and looked, she found yet another sleeping form. Hanging as she was from the upper half of the frame, hooves braced against the bottom, she looked like a stalker which was not far from the truth. Because being once an assassin and now leader of an international cohort of piratical and whoring women, Philomel dealt in secrecy and stealth. She had to be the master of agility - her lifestyle had taught her that. It was only a matter of angles and arrogant snow drifts that were her deadly enemy here.

With a sigh the Matriarch of the Gilded Lily began to move, considering about giving up. Looking upwards to where the edge of the roof was just a few inches away she kicked off from the window ledge, then threw her body up. Pulling with her arms she spun in the air, and landed in an awkward but effective position, a clatter of cement and terracotta beneath her. Pausing, she crouched there, grinding down her back teeth and wondering (yet again) if she should just give up.

It was then that a silent predator ran over to her.

He was a brilliant flash of russet red and sparkling white. Golden eyes and a grinning jaw he was running to her, his paws barely making any sound on the half-covered roof.

Philomel, he cried as he purposefully collided with her hip. Paws up on her chest he wriggled his long brush tail and chittered very quietly in an expressive manner. Beloved! I have found them.

Veridian Ryuusan, for that was the fox's name, greeted his beloved partner-of-the-mind with a grin. Nosing her nearby hand with his black, and slightly wet nose, he gave his news again with joy.

I found them.

As her brow furrowed, Philomel was caught between elation and confusion. She had not been able to track them, she the expert of stealth and seduction? Yet Veridian, her erstwhile fox-form earth-spirit companion had? Surely he had not learnt that much in these past few years as much as she had, even though they shared a mind? Yes, he saw her dreams and everything else she allowed him to but her time practising and learning had given her the advantage, not he?

Eyes dropping down to his paws that were firm and strong on the snowy tiles, then flickering back up to meet his eyes Philomel thought about just how much his natural form did allow. Certainly being a fox gave him as much agility as a faun, if not more. And though he did not have her strength surely he had more in terms of lightness? And being small meant that he could fit into those hard-to-reach places, slipping quickly in and out, asking questions only when he needed to.

Her lips formed a stern frown, expressing her grumpiness.

Fine, she said, admitting to herself that he was capable of finding them, Where are they?

Leaping back off her Veridian twisted to face the way he had come. Over here, he gestured with a point of his nose. The other side of the courtyard. There is also a convenient tree that you might find-

But he was talking to air. The faun had already gained to her feet and was stalking over the rooftops, her careful hooves finding a way between slippy ice and firm tile. Looking over, she saw the complex of the Silver Cup, with its three sided, U-shaped main building. Other outbuildings, all of it surrounded by a low outer wall, were connected to the main ones, and it had been these that Philomel had been concentrating on. She had dismissed so far the single branch that Veridian had gotten to, presuming that Amari had wanted something more particular. Such as the fancier-looking outbuildings. Oh yes, Vaeron had told them where Mari had gone to for the night, but not about the bloody size of the place.

Saying nothing more Philomel smoothly moved down the usefully placed lean-to that was at the end of their current building, one which allowed safe transfer to ground level. From there she hdeaded directly across the broad street, not waiting as Veridian hopped lithely down also. Pulling the scarf tightly around her face, she avoided a chilling breeze that bit like a demon from an icy hell as it battered through the open gate of the courtyard. It took the earth-spirit not much time to catch up with her and prod his nose further towards a large pine that stood at a corner nearby the outer wall.

There, he said inexpressively. Second story.

Mmm hmmm, Philomel answered, and promptly saw the tree. Gripping a bottom branch she pulled herself up onto the low wall and into the lower realms of the sturdy tree. It shook but little as she climbed deeper through the leafy realms, thanking that trees were still able to grow despite the cold of this freezing terror. Searching with her eyes she found a second level window, as Veridian had described, and walked along the largest branch until she was able to comfortably sit and watch. Taking the heel of her hand she rubbed away yet more snowflakes and peered in.

Just in time to see Amari accidently slip back and fall onto the bed.

Apparently Amari did not wear underwear.

Neither did Philomel, but she had an excuse. She was a faun and being a faun meant you had natural protection down there. Namely, in the way of often matted fur that kept your nether regions toasty warm even in the coldest expanses of Berevar. Personally, Philomel kept the very inner parts shaven, but that served a particular use. For her first profession she had needed it for the more instinctive of customers, who always asked, "Are you hairy everywhere?" Then she could part her legs and -

Also, her mother had taught her it was good practise to keep your womanly flower clean. And less hair meant that was easier to do.

Amari, however, was a plain old human. Or at least human in body. Philomel had seen the image in that book - one that was very old by all accounts. It had shown Amari, or someone remarkably like her at least, still the same age roughly yet hundreds of years earlier. Which meant that whatever she had done to Shinsou, showing him those pained images, was not natural. Was in fact likely connected to the other part of her ... but still. Her form was human. And that meant her underside had to get cold in a place like Salvar.

But apparently that was not the case. For hardly sooner had Amari fallen than Shinsou was down there, face implanted like a lapping dog. Rolling her eyes Philomel looked away for a moment, sighing to herself and admitting that the two of them in that room were sort of made for each other. One a mysterious girl in subjugation to Lichensith Ulroke, the other a man from another world. Both lost in time and place, both confused but making themselves a new home. Philomel on the other hand ... why she was a Althanasian, born and bred. Raised first in an abusive household, then in a brothel by a whore mother, who had faced the hatred and prejudices of life and risen above them. In one way she was lost - for after all she had never been to the faun homeland of Paradisia, tucked away in the Jagged Mountains. But in other ways she was satisfied. She had her past - her own dealings with the Crimson Hand as a lowly assassin and the brothels - and she had her future - that which pitted her against other world leaders. More than them, she knew her family, she knew her brother and cousin. She knew her race.

And she had Veridian. Like a cat he curled up on her lap, leaning his warm body against her belly. You will always have me, He told her.

But these two, they knew so little about who they were.

Looking back, Philomel now saw that Shinsou had Amari pressed against the wall. Her eyebrows rose as she pressed her own faces against the glass. He was happy, that was clear for she caught a glimpse of his pride and joy. As he ground against the red-haired girl, Philomel found herself making a face as her critical mind began to work over time.

"Oh gods, Shinsou," she cussed, but in a whispering, tiny voice, "You don't nibble skin like that, that is how an trained ass would do it for a penny in a back alley." She screwed up her nose, "He has no elegance what so ever."

"Please," Amari moaned, muted through the window. Certainly loudly, enough for others to hear surely. "Please fuck me."

"Oh come on," Philomel rolled her eyes, "He is not exactly using his full potential."

Trust you to be demeaning, Veridian murmured, his eyes slipping closed.

She looked down at him, "Darling, I know he could be better. He has the agility and the spirit. What have I always said, 'warriors-'"

'Warriors make good lovers,' Veridian finished for her.

"Exactly," Philomel nodded, rubbing more snow away that had just fallen. Really, her view was quite upset by the frostbite that the glass seemed to have accepted into its sand-made veins. She pressed her nose back to its chilling surface, just in time to see Shinsou's hand move and the familiar sparkle of his ice magic spiral into existence. Just where he was using it, the faun could not see but she had an idea.

Again, she sighed. "Using ice magic in a country of ice? How unoriginal."

And now Shinsou was on the floor, flat on his back, little Amari on top of him, riding like a horse.

With despair, Philomel shook her head. Reversing to commenting in her mind to keep her voice from uttering their intoned irritations she continued to comment.

Oh come on darling. You do it as if you are doing dressage, not galloping all over the place!

She remembered her own lessons, when she had first begun to learn at the age of eleven the finer points of the mounted positions. It was in their upper level home, where Philomel lived with her mother, Lacey, now deceased, and her father Enna, now deceased (at Philomel's own hand). Despite not being fully employed as a whore at their local brothel, the Crouching Tiger, Lacey still solicited some private clients when Enna was not at home, and had been a former one herself. Thus, she had taught her daughter all she knew, and that most particularly included sexual positions. Including the mount.

Taking a tray of eggs, at the very least six by six, then a small blown up bladder and a cushion atop this, Lacey would have Philomel sit upon the cushion. It was the young faun's task to roll the bladder around the tray of eggs, so that the bladder had a smooth and easy transitional journey of a circular kind, but without breaking the eggs. The trick was to be firm enough to cause the motion to continue for possible endless time, but soft enough never to cause a crack.

Very unlike the grinding that Amari was currently doing. If she had been on the cushion, bladder and eggs, yolks would be staining the carpet already.

I may need to teach her some, Philomel sighed, If she is to-

And then there it was. Suddenly Shinsou was on the ground, his body back. Though he was still there was an amount of pain in his eyes as the pupils flickered anxiously around. Drifting in and out of range they seemed to focus on nothing but empty air, sliding back and forth back and forth, back and - were they now looking at her?

Philomel ducked back, her heart hammering. Was he even okay? Yes, she had given up all hope at this point of ever having a relationship with anyone. Shinsou had perhaps been the first to make her believe ... but then, as she had always said 'love is just an illusion'. But her recent adventures, her strifes and hardships had made her accept that love did exist. For others, certainly. Just not for her. Never for her. She was the Matriarch after all, and it was her duty to give all whores and other downtrodden women back their livelihoods. Back their existences. It was her life to be on the outside always watching. This evening was making that very clear.

She rolled back her shoulders as she heard shouts. And looked back. Amari was over Shinsou begging him to wake up. Concern flittered back into Philomel's heart as she tried to rid herself of her selfish thoughts.

Get up you idiot, she hissed, Get up, you have a lover ... a girlfriend even to keep satisfied.

Moments passed and he was up. Philomel watched him squirm and murmur and shudder as he spoke in quiet whispers that she could not hear. Against her Veridian pressed himself, concerned for her wellbeing.

Oh shut up, she told him, It was a fleeting fancy, nothing more. I could never manage the Gilded Lily and have any chance at a relationship. She raised her chin, keeping an eye as Amari gently helped Shinsou up, Besides. I am a mother. And I would have to tell Shinsou that. Something I will not do unless my life is in danger.