Child

[Philomel]

The resulting next few moments were some that many could only dream about. Or have nightmares about.

First Vaeron pulled back and wrinkled up his nose. A shiver ran down his spine as his whole body screamed in horror. What was he doing? Across from him Philomel sat stunned, absolutely still, bemused. Raising a hand she touched her mouth.

"Bu' ... Bu' I though' ..." She said, for the first and likely only ever time dropping some constenants.

"I am," he said in an unusually high and confused voice. "I am."

"But ..."

Downing the rest of his wine, the last dregs and the last few drops, Vaeron threw the goblet to the side. Luckily it was made of metal and it clanged off the edge of the stone fireplace. Grabbing Philomel by the hand he pulled her closer and suddenly began working on her belt, strewing the many folded fabrics there aside.

"Hang on, hang on!" She began to yell, waving her hands to fight him off. "Vaeron, this is ..."

"The right thing," he muttered. "What you need to do and I'm the only fucking man you're allowed to have a kid with."

"Says who?" Philomel said, her eyes large. It was not that she found Vaeron unattractive - quite the opposite. He was a well built man, with years of archery training gone into creating a fine chest and muscular structure. However, Philomel knew that Vaeron enjoyed the company over women, she knew it like she knew the subtlies of her own body. It was what made them such compatible friends, such close allies. It was what allowed her to be safe in the knowledge he would never make an advance on her.

That was until now.

"Says me," the drunken man said, hastily trying to work on her fabrics as she fought him away. "You could easily fall pregnant with any other man, but that means they would have a hold on you forever so you don't let that happen. Instead, I'm not going to even be bothered with raising the thing, I'm your friend not your lover so," he hiccupped, "So this works. Much better. Much nicer."

He reached out and grabbed her breast. As his mouth twisted up into one of disgust Philomel shoved her elbows between them and pushed him back.

"Vaeron," she said, sobering very quickly - though a wall of full awareness was in the way for some ours still. "Vaeron, seriously, no. This-"

"Just do it," Vaeron said, sliding back forwards, leaning his face towards her. "Quick and painless. In and out. This is ..."

He grunted and looked at her for a while. His eyes glazed over slightly as he tried to reason with himself.

"This ... You need this. You need an heir."

Solemnly she looked at him. And the idea and the realisation and the knowledge that what he said was absolute truth hit her. Heavily. An heir. If she wanted to build an empire she needed an heir. Yes she had some great women in her side, yes one of them could do, but a true, full blood heir, born of her own flesh and raised in the same way that she was. A faun. A child of Drys. An ...

He grabbed her by the hips and with the strength of forty years of experience he pulled her towards him. She could see the hidden disgust in his eyes, that which he was trying to hide. And she could only but adore him for it. Here he was, trying to rid himself of his very nature all for her.

"Vaeron ..." She said uneasily, a serious tone in her voice.

"Don't take your herbs in the morning," he spoke over her, cutting off her thoughts. "And take advantage that I'm honestly drunk right now. If it doesn't work ... Well we'll order more wine." He began to work on the knots of her material again and this time she did not resist. He looked down and continued his work. "I can get myself ready, you just need to ... Yeah ..." He grumbled under his breath incoherently.

Philomel felt a lump grow in her throat but she didn't fight now. She didn't look away. Instead she just kept her eyes down, watching as he flung away her various fabrics, pushed aside her hidden knives with a clatter to the stone. Jangles of metals rang to her ears and she stomached it all as he cleared a direct pathway to her underside, then immediately he switched and began working on his own coverings.

"It'll work better if you get yourself ready," he said in a low voice. "And I'll do it for me."

Slowly she raised an eyebrow and he shrugged. "You want me to kiss you more?"

"No way, that was disgusting," she replied dryly.

A shine in his eye showed a brief glimpse of amusement. "Hey, I can do better," he replied in a voice much more sober now. "I can try."