From being an Abandoned who had rarely left the Hollowed Grounds, to embracing the call of adventure, to dying and being reborn first as an Ascended and then as an Ancient, Maea has gone through quite the amount of changes in her life. One thing remains common, though, in her attempts to find out just where she belongs; she’s always had a craving for knowledge which has brought her to so many places and to meet so many people here in Caido. We can’t wait to see what else is in store for her!
Congratulations, Maea!
Credits
Court of the Fallen was created in October of 2018 by Odd, Honey, and Crooked.
Skinning and hosting by the epically talented Kaons, and functionality fanciness by the coding magic of Neowulf. If you ever see either of them around, make sure to show them some love!
she does not know what it's like not to have deep emotions
It's a testament to the lithe and limberness of her body as well as his skill that they are able to adjust their courses so easily. Amalia's back arcs as he pulls her back, her hands and wings pressing forward on the counter to give her leverage against his thrusts. She's already thrown into more of a fervor than she'd ever known she could reach; the addition of his fingers on her clit and his breath on her neck is more than she can bear.
Her orgasm is a hard and fierce thing, shuddering down the length of her spine. She tightens around him as it takes her, leaving her hair literally alight, her head thrown back in wanton ecstasy, a wild moan torn from her throat. She reaches for him as she cums, grasping back blindly to hold him against her with only her wings to keep them balanced as she clings to his ass with one hand, his shoulder with the other. "Hnnng-" she groans in a fevered prayer as the last of the thrill courses through her, leaving her utterly spent.
With legs of jelly Amalia sags, slumping forward with her hands on the counter as her wings tuck neatly away. She's speechless, her mind hazy with the aftermaths of lust and release, breathing heavily and shuddering as her onyx gaze falls closed.
even when she feels nothing she feels it completely
The feel of her robs Ronin of words and coherence; the way she arcs back and the way she tightens around him is enough to more than push him over the edge. He finishes only a moment or so after her, all pounding thrusts and a stuttered groan against her neck. Vaguely he’s aware of fingers pressed against his skin, the Star breathing hard, doing all he can not to simply crumple against the counter with her.
His heart is a hard and thundering thing that Amalia will feel acutely with the way his chest is pressed against her back, and though his legs are rubber and his mind full of static, Ronin at least has the coherency to give them both a moment to catch their breath. ”I think,” he says softly, the words mumbled into the soft curve of her shoulder, ”that the water may have thawed out by now.”
He can’t help it; Ronin’s chuckling is something Ama will probably feel as well. ”If you ever want to come over while I’m in the shower again, be my guest.”
she does not know what it's like not to have deep emotions
The moments after are terrifying. As the haze of pleasure fades away it leaves space for anxiety to creep in, insidious and biting at her heels. Eyes still closed Amalia breathes deeply, inhaling for a count of three and letting the breath out. She tells herself that this is okay, that when she looks up he'll still be the same. That she hasn't ruined the best friendships she has for a moment of much-needed, carnal release.
His first comment post-coitus leaves her tense, though, because it feels like a dismissal. She knows it shouldn't, yet all she can think is oh gods, he regrets it, this was a mistake. But as his body stays pressed against her and a laugh rumbles against her back the Shield relaxes, finally opening up her eyes to meet his in the steamy mirror. The playful comment means almost as much as the sex because it's him, proof that they're still what they are. "I think it's my turn for a shower," Amalia admits bashfully, her own laugh soft and warm.
Turning around with her eyes downcast, she tucks her hair behind her ear. "Do you mind if I...here? I'll leave after, I just... I'd like to see him. After you, of course. If, if that isn't weird." If he says yes she'll slip into the shower; if not she will not take offence, leaving his room with a kiss on the cheek for him as well as she sleeping patient, and a promise to come back soon.
even when she feels nothing she feels it completely
Straightening up (and taking his time about it, because Ronin still isn’t sure whether or not his legs will hold his weight properly), he scoffs at Amalia; if the moments after for her are terrifying, then the Star is the opposite in his casual nonchalance. ”If you insist,” he says, playfully teasing as she turns around in his arms. Still, it doesn’t take long for her eyes to flit downward again, for shyness to creep in.
”Of course you can,” he says warmly, leaning in to drop a kiss on the crown of her head. ”Take your time. I insist on it.” With a bright grin, Ronin steps away to the sink - both to clean up and to remove the canteen from the running water. It’s still fairly frozen, but a shake of the bottle confirms that there’s enough in there for a few good sips. ”Come and find us when you’re ready,” he says, leaving her to it and swanning back out of the bathroom without bothering to grab the towel again.
Ronin does, at least, drag on some clothes as he sweeps into the bedroom where his husband is sleeping, the canteen in hand. ”Remi.” His voice is gentle, hopeful, and the Star moves to perch on the bed, taking the Lullaby’s hand. ”Wake up - I’ve got something better than a dream out here for you.”
Where Remi is even he can't say. There are cathedral walls around him with stained glass depicting his and Aoife's death. They're memorialized like saints, only it isn't sunlight that streams through to light up the panes of glass, but the light from a blood moon. The shadows are sentient and comforting, whispering consolations and instructions into the Lullaby's ear as he dreams restlessly.
Aoife promises him resurrection and a different sort of life if only he'd remain here. Here where senseless violence plays on repeat, the melody of it is a loud and inspiring thing. His dreams coax out the absolute worst in him, catering to his bloodlust and his hatred, his anger and disappointment.
And so it is that as Ronin's words meld into the world, coating everything in a sickle-sweet frost that glints with the promise of the huntsman's light, that Remi awakens with a snarl on his lips and murder in his eyes. He doesn't see Ronin, but, like Amalia only moments before, sees Finn. "You do not belong here." He snarls, green eyes unfocused as he reaches out an unsteady hand for Ronin's collar.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
Remi lunges for his collar and Ronin reaches out to capture his hand, starlight emanating from him in soft waves; even the prospect of this is enough overwhelm him emotionally, and only the fact that he’s still holding the canteen of hotsprings water prevents him from scooping Remi up and into his arms. ”Yes I do,” he says softly. ”Sorry, but you married me. I belong here more than anywhere else.”
Of course he understands that his husband probably isn’t seeing him right now, probably doesn’t even know where he is, but Ronin’s patience for the Lullaby is endless right now. ”Remi, look again. It’s me.” He presses the alchemist’s hand flat against his chest so he can feel the thrum of his heartbeat. Whether or not that incites the other man to try and tear it, still beating, out of his chest?
Remi doesn't hear the words; not as Ronin says them anyway. He hears Finn telling him that all will see his fall. That everyone from the Tower is watching, and that soon, the rope will break. Not even the rocks will want to catch you, after what you've done, Finn taunts from the shadows. Or is it Aoife?
The pulse beneath his hand, matching that on his finger begins to shatter the world around him. Mountains and cathedral towers crumble into a black sea, the roar of which makes Remi wince and shake his head. "I..do not.." It's an older Remi who says this, an iteration of him from long ago. Confusion washes over his face, peeling away the fury and leaving only innocent surprise.
Even this amount of lucidity is too much, and soon Remi's eyes are rolling back in his head as his cheeks flush with renewed vigour; heat bursts out of him as if he's burning from the inside out. Indeed that's how it feels, and limply the alchemist's hand falls away from the Star's chest.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
The confusion is enough, at least, for Ronin to make a move. Much as he adores his husband, he’s not keen to injure himself such that he’ll be useless to help Remi further. Hissing out a curse as the hand against his heart falls away, he shifts to get an arm around the Lullaby’s shoulders, cradling him away from the bed. Remi feels like he’s about to catch fire wherever they touch, and renewed concern roars through the huntsman.
”I bet you tell everyone I tried to drown you,” he jokes with a weak sort of smile, Remi’s head lolling against his chest, but at least he’s upright enough not to immediately choke. So Ronin doesn’t waste any time, unscrewing the top on the canteen and bringing it to his partner’s lips, carefully trying to coax a sip of the cool water.
09-20-2020, 08:45 PM (This post was last modified: 09-20-2020, 08:46 PM by Remi.)
i'll stay here with you until this dream is gone
He doesn't mind being moved, traitorous and far away as his body is. It's only when Remi can smell the water that he immediately fights his husband's efforts. Had he ears they'd have been pinned back against his skull. Fully human (somehow), Remi just thrashes back and forth as if it's poison that Ronin is trying to force him to drink.
"Not if I poison you first—" He snarls, reaching up a hand to paw away the canteen. By then there is a mouthful forced down the back of his throat, and self-preservation has him doubling over as his lungs cough in protest.
It takes more than a few stretched-out seconds for the water to do its work, during which the alchemist's mind has every intention of twisting about in his husband's grip and removing Finn's lips from Ronin's face. Just as he gains his breath back and begins to move, he feels it all break. Like a dam finally give way, the Lullaby's mind is both thawed and cooled, letting precious clarity flow through him.
"Ronin?" He whispers, confused and still hoarse. Twisting about to face the huntsman, Remi's breath catches in his throat (and not only because he'd just been choking), and slowly his head starts to shake. It's a worried gesture, one of deep despair and regret. Not really realizing anything about the water (and that there's more of it, which he should absolutely drink), he clumsily throws his arms around the Star's neck. "I remember telling you to leave. Why would I do that?" He stutters against Ronin's chest, as tears that for once don't feel like daggers, stream from his eyes.
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
It’s more than a touch lucky that Remi is in such a terrible state, because on any ordinary day Ronin would not be able to keep him from doing whatever he wanted. But riddled with fever and with all strength and vigour dragged out of him, it’s a tragically easy thing to stop the Lullaby from thrashing too much, or swatting the canteen out of his hands. At first Ronin doesn’t think it has worked, and the sinking feeling in his stomach is enough to have him wanting to throw himself from the Citadel gates.
But then his name hits the air, hoarse and ragged, and the Star can barely put the canteen down where it won’t spill before Remi’s arms are around his neck. He doesn’t respond at first - he can’t, rather - his arms winding around his husband in return to drag him up against his chest, the huntsman burying his face in sweaty curls. His grateful tears are hidden in the shaking of his shoulders and in unsteady snatches of air; he shakes his head in return, unsure of the answer himself.
”You weren’t well,” he whispers at last. ”But you’ll be okay for while, now. No more leaving, I promise.”
Remi's shoulders and sides flutter and shake as he tries to keep it all from pouring out. Sobs and laughter fight for purchase in the back of his throat and it's all he can do to keep his forehead pressed tightly against Ronin's chest.
Clarity can be a painful thing, and though the events of the past few weeks might be hazy, the dream before-last he'd shared with the Star burns with a cold light just behind his eyelids. "I never want you to leave." Remi murmurs, his fingers clutching against hair and skin. "And I never want to leave you." A moment which should have been filled with so much joy instead feels fractured by how selfish the alchemist had been. He had wanted Ronin to leave because it hadn't been real. But if that was truly the case, then this grief shouldn't have followed him here.
But it had.
"The..water..?" Remi breathes after a moment, pulling back and regarding his husband with tear-bright eyes. "We're still.." He glances around. Yep, still in the Palace. Where then had the water come from?
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
”I should have stayed,” Ronin objects with a shake of his head, his hands ghosting over the alchemist as if he can’t quite believe he’s real. As Remi moves, the Star realises the extent of the damage that the fever and the induced sleep have done; his husband has never felt so fragile in his arms before. ”Never again,” he agrees wholeheartedly, kissing his curls and sniffing as Remi sits back.
He nods - still the Palace, but yes to the water - and his hand moves up to wipe away tears, to stare into eyes that finally seem to see him back. ”Everyone who was at the Climb with Amalia got a canteen like hers. She stole Loren’s.” He wishes he could sound guilty about it, but he doesn’t. Not even slightly. ”It was frozen, when she got here. We had to wait for it to thaw out. She’s... showering.”
His brow furrows, suddenly, like he’s just remembered why. ”I really, really needed it,” he mutters, aware that he’s making very little sense, but unable to articulate it properly right now.
"You couldn't have even if you'd tried." Remi says with a miserable sigh, his hands tightly clutching as much of Ronin as is possible as if he might somehow still be pulled away. But his grip is nowhere near as strong as it should be. In the weeks proceeding this moment he's had very little to eat. Ronin has tried to force food into him, but the largest meal the alchemist has had was a bit of raw liver that he stole from Sugar in a leonine rage. Despite how Remi's arms tremble with the effort, he keeps the Star as close as he can.
It's weak, because so much of him is that way right now, but Remi can feel the lack of remorse echo out of Ronin and it makes him chuckle. Swiftly though it's followed up by an emotion rarely felt, and it takes Remi a few seconds to place it: it isn't guilt per say, but perhaps disappointment in himself. What he feels from Ronin is not regret, but perhaps some inarticulable notion that he should have been able to hold out on his own, somehow. The Star's explanation, if you can call it that, hardly lends much context. Once Remi realizes what he's feeling however, his smile is slow and understanding as he shifts that he might reach for his husband's hand. Threading his fingers through, he offers the Star a boyish smile, entirely without anger. "I'm happy to wait my turn." He says with a crooked grin. "Besides, I'm not sure what good I'd be for you just now."
Speaks with a thick Italian accent.
Force and magic can be used against Remi without permission.
What Remi lacks in strength, Ronin more than makes up for; he has his husband bundled close in his lap, as if he might fend off anything and anyone that tries to come for him, dreams included. Still, as they speak about Amalia and it dawns on Remi, what has happened, Ronin doesn’t know how to give it further words without straying too deeply into something that was entirely simple in the moment.
So when the Lullaby’s fingers seek his own, he gives his hand a gentle squeeze, relief roaring out of him at the gentle understanding. ”I won’t keep you waiting long,” he promises, before huffing out a laugh. ”You are so good for me,” he objects, nuzzling against Remi’s curls and letting out a long, deep sigh. ”You’re everything I need. Right here and now.”
But that doesn’t mean Remi is in any way fit to go to the Climb right now. ”You must be starving,” he mumbles, already reaching for the canteen again, though he finds it empty after delivering its healing power. ”What can I get you?”
