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Title: not important enough for one
Fandom: Kushiel's Legacy
Character: Random OC type thing
Word Count: I don't give a rat's ass
A/Ns: This is...completely random. Don't criticise, don't point out mistakes, I don't want to hear it right now. Maybe in a day or two. Just read it. If you like it, fine. If you don't, fuck off. Yes, I know a lot of it is more than likely totally not what canon dictates...or whatever. No, it's not really important to me right now. Yes, I'm buzzed. No, I don't care. Yes, you're correct in that I don't want to hear what you have to say. No, I can't be bothered to just turn off comments. So STFU already. And yes, I realise that I am one of those authors who can't really write and shouldn't be writing anyway. And no...it's not finished and probably never will be.
I was never considered a normal member of my household. Many of the Shahrizai are seen as scions of Kushiel, able to see the weakness in others and use it to my own advantage. I see none of that, and use none of it to benefit my own devices. I am Devran Shahrizai, son of Mavros Shahrizai, cousin to Imriel nó Montrève de la Courcel, Prince of the Blood, son of Melisande Shahrizai and Benedicte de la Courcel, two of Terre d'Ange's greatest traitors, and adopted son of the Comtesse de Montrève Phèdre nó Delaunay and her consort Joscelin Verreuil, Terre d'Ange's greatest champions. They lived the stories that people tell at fabulous fetes and in the corners of Night's Doorstep. My family has passed the story from generation to generation, and within each there is someone who lived at least one of those stories in their youth. Such adventures have passed, however, and my generation is left to our own devices.
Be that as it may, the traditions of Terre d'Ange live on, and many of us find ourselves visiting the Night Court often. I myself have a longstanding contract with House Valerian, for a single adept whom I have come to admire, and possibly, to love. I can not keep myself from her, my Kela, giving her countless patron gifts so that she might finish her marque. She, in turn, has included me in her small ring of favourites; I becoming one of the few upon whom she has gifted a small treasure of her own.
Tonight was different from my usual visits. It was unannounced, as I am wont to do from time to time, and though the Dowayne accepted me with no hesitation, she did leave me with a lingering glance, a questioning glimmer in her eyes as she beckoned toward the corridor that led to Kela's room. I was filled with good wine and a feeling of dread, and I had come with no planned intentions, as many of my previous visits had been. Kela greeted me with the kiss of greeting, and I couldn't help but pull gently on her hair to raise her face to mine, longing springing up in my loins as I kissed her savagely, forgoing the usual motions that we usually spent time on. Tonight I only wanted to rid myself of my anguish. We are told "Love as thou wilt", but that night my mother revealed to me that I was betrothed to a girl in another household; I was not being allowed to love as I wished. It was not unheard of, mostly in the political circles where certain marriages were required to allay fears and create strong bonds between countries, but I could find no logic or reason in mine. My feet carried me where my mind did not dare to go. Wherever I went, I drank my sorrows away. After which, I sought to speak with my beloved, perhaps apologise for the future that was no longer to be ours.
Kela gasped as I pulled on her hair, closing her eyes to the kiss as I crushed my lips upon hers. She smelled musky and delicious, deepening my intoxication and making me want her even more. She managed to pull herself from my bruising grip, walking backwards and leading me toward her satin covered bed. I released myself from her grasping hands and walked over toward the chest she kept in the corner of her room. Kela kept an array of items in there, toys and other things that patrons might enjoy using on her. One such item was a small bunch of flechettes. We had never used them in any previos love session, but tonight I was enough out of my mind that my desire to finally make use of them was too strong to ignore. Kela's eyes widened as I pulled them from the chest, desire and fear forming in her eyes. Along with the flechettes, I also took the satin ribbons from the bottom of the chest. I loved seeing Kela stretched out over her bed, loved seeing her squirm as I roughly tied her wrists and ankles with the ribbons.
As I crossed the room with items in hand, she slowly removed her clothing, lying down on the bed for me, waiting for me to do whatever I wished with her. I stretched her limbs to every corner, tying my knots more tightly than usual. She gasped as the soft ribbons rubbed harshly over her soft, warm flesh, sighing lightly as I sucked on the palm of each hand after dropping the ends of the tied ribbons. I traced lightly down her body with my tongue, stopping between her thighs and performing the languisement on her with skills I didn't realise that I had. Her gasps and small cries rose into the room, as I ran my hands along her hips, up her waist and up to her neck. I could tell that I had more yet to accomplish by the way her small sounds had dissipated. As I traced along her collar bone with one of my fingers, the flechette flashed for a single moment in the candle light of her room and she inhaled sharply, fear mingling with the desire that consumed her eyes. I flicked my wrist and a tiny ruby line appeared just below her collar bone. She pressed her lips together tightly, a muffled sound barely escaping from her nose. I grinned drunkenly, drawing the flechette lightly down the side of her breast, leaving a faint trail of crimson behind it. At that second cut Kela could no longer muffle her cries, her lips releasing their pressure against each other and a sound that was pain and ecstasy together escaped from them. I took one of the small blades in each hand, tracing them lightly over her stomach without leaving a mark before flicking my wrists to drive them into her flesh. The cry that came as a result of that mark was no longer one mixed with desire but my foggy mind could not hear the difference. She whimpered lightly, and I thought nothing of it, the only thing barely making it through the haze being that she had yet to say her signale, the one thing that should make me stop, should she desire it.
I saw her mouth make no shape to say it, as I had heard it twice before, so I continued, creating another small red line along her shoulder, this one a bit deeper than the others. Another I traced down her leg, leaving a long red line that began to trickle past its own boundaries. I raised one flechette to the small valley between her breasts, and Kela finally cried out. It was her signale, the only thing I had dreaded to hear that night. I unthinkingly wondered for a fleeting moment if an act of heresy would release me from my obligation of marriage. The moment passed, and none too quickly, and then the thought was gone from my mind.
Horrified by the thoughts that had passed through my muddled mind, I threw the flechettes across the room, apologising profusely to my beloved as I released her from her satin bonds. She smiled sadly at me, kissing me gently before standing from the bed. I looked up at her, an emotional puddle of muck, feeling as though I actually had mistreated her, the act having actually continued in my mind. I do not know what I would have done with myself had I chosen to ignore her safe word. She lifted me to her and held me close, and as she walked me to the door I poured every valuable item in my pockets into her surprised hands. I couldn't look into her eyes. I didn't want to see any pity, or whatever she might be feeling. I knew she was close to finishing her marque. I hoped what I had given her would be enough. Perhaps if she were free of Valerian House, she might be able to forget me, though I would never forget her. I left without a word, the anguish twisting inside my chest.
A Shahrizai? A scion of Kushiel? Somehow, somewhere, I could feel the gods were laughing at me.
