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Meet the Author [Goody + incendo]

-as she was reaching into the cabinet, she faltered for just a moment as she caught him stripping from his shirt. Watching the way his shoulders shifted, the muscles shifting and rippling just beneath the skin. The way his arms moved and bulged at times. She drew in a deep and calming breath before she forced her attention back to the matter at hand. Plates, Mara. You need plates.

She stood for a second, contemplating at least a glass for him for his beer but they were bottled and still cold, so it should be fine. She was flustered and just wouldn't admit it to herself. She pulled a couple paper towels from the roll and started back toward him. Just as he was pushing his pants over his hips.-

“Oh!”

-she squeaked, the plates coming up so fast to cover her eyes that she bopped herself on the nose with the square ceramic dishes.-

“Ouch....”

-she murmured softly, the sound slightly muffled behind the plates, the paper towels hanging slightly scrunched from her hand as she waited a minute and listened as he moved around. Of course she’d seen plenty of men’s bodies. She wasn’t a prude by any means but she was also polite....mostly. And curious. That was something she hadn’t laid out in detail. It wasn’t the most detrimental need to know part of the story but she’d imagined.

She peeked around the edge of the plates, watching quietly until she caught him looking back at her. She herself being caught. Her lips pursed inward and a blush crept heavily along her cheeks and she drew her face back behind the plates for another moment or two.

Only when she heard him speak did she finally lower the plates. A soft blush curling over her cheeks. She continued her path toward him.-

“You’re welcome and there are no warriors, not like you, Moe.”

-she set the plates and towels atop the pizza box and straightened, turning to face him. Her eyes looking him over but never quite reaching his own, just yet.

Tentatively, she reached up and plucked the tag from the shirt and leaned slightly to pull the sticker from the leg of his jeans. Noticing only then they were unzipped, she felt a flush of warmth rush to her cheeks again. She cleared her throat as she straightened. Her eyes darting up to his face finally, her finger pointing to his crotch.-

“Zipper, Moe, you forgot to pull it up. And there’s some underwear in the bag if you need it. If the jeans chafe or whatever. Two different kinds, ones a looser fit than the other. I didn’t know what you’d prefer.”

-she admitted as she turned to take care of the food and beer. Setting the plates to the side as she opened the box, the smell of the pizza wafting out into the room. Like a call, she heard the faint tinkle of Bears bell from the other room as she stirred and cane to peek around the doorway, torn between wanting to come see what that smell was and the man in the room with Mara.-

“Hmmm?”

-she questioned his question but when he dropped it on her, she stiffened, noticeably. She dropped the slice of pizza in her hand onto the plate it hovered over. She was quiet for a long, drawn out moment. Only a faint sniffle escaped her before she straightened, drawing in a deep breath she stood stock still. Contemplating her answer.-

“You will hate me for my selfish reasoning but if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

-she said quietly, she turned slightly toward him, her eyes searching his face sadly as she waited his answer. Clearly she battled her own demons inside her head but she’d made a promise to him and herself that she wouldn’t lie to him. Even in this.-
 
With his head tipped in interest, Mahon watched her pull the small paper tag from his shirt, his body warming again when her fingers delicately stroked at his leg, grasping and pulling the strange, slender design from the trousers. It felt very intimate the way she touched him, so familiar and yet, he sensed the self-conscious hesitation in her as well. And with the way he caught her boldly looking at his erection earlier, it made Mahon think, quite possibly, he wasn't alone in feeling the magnetic pull towards her.

He got temporarily lost in her explanation of the clothes, unfamiliar words breezing past him, his eyes fixated on the warm glow of her blushing cheeks. There was something about her that was stronger than the women he was used to, more bold and confident. Yet, she had a certain innocence as well, an uncertain tenderness and shyness about her that fed the flames in his lower core. Stepping forward, Mahon loomed close to Mara's side, his chest and pelvis brushing against her shoulder and hip, the granite heat of him lightly warming her as he stood confidently over her.

Looking down at her, his green eyes shuttered and darkened with an unreadable intensity, Mahon softly murmured, "I do not know what that means. Zipper and jeans. These things...what are they?"

A soft smirk lightly touched his lips as his eyes traced over the plush curve of her mouth, hunger bleeding into his eyes but not for the strange breaded pie that sat within the box on the table. "I don't know what I'd prefer either," he said, going for a double meaning. Still, he didn't understand what the under wear was nor what looser or tighter could mean, so, had no context by which to categorize his own feelings on the matter either way. But also...she was still trying to take the blame for the twists and turns of his tragic life and...if she had an explanation, Mahon wanted to hear it, despite not believing for a second that it was true. On the other hand, he didn't wish to be convinced that she was his god, so, if she had something silly to say in regards to why she would kill everyone important to him...Mahon didn't want to hear it. If anything, he'd prefer to use her to stop thinking about these horrible things any further, not delve deeper into the mire of his buried grief.

This close to her, Mahon could smell her, the clean, blossom scents she exuded, wafting up from her hair and skin, taking precedence over the scent of meat and bread from the meal she'd had made for them.
 
-when she felt him brush against her, she drew in a deep breath to steady herself. On one hand, she wanted to step away. She knew she should at any rate. On the other, she very much wanted to step closer, into him. That’s what this was all about after all. The selfish reason she’d killed off the love of his life and their child. There was of course another, less selfish reason, but the reasons had worked cohesively together to give her one good reason to kill them and drive him further into his mission to seek out his brother and finally end the Demon Lord’s reign of terror.

Her gaze turned up to his, a soft breath huffing past her lips in an almost agitated sigh. His question ultimately decided for her, his innocence of this world, this time. Her time and place, not his. Reminding her that he was her creation. Everything she wanted in a man and yet, she couldn’t, she shouldn’t have him because he was not of this world, no matter how real and solid he was....he was still her creation.

Stepping back, she gently tapped her finger against the denim covering his hip.-

“These are called jeans, Moe. They’re like your trousers, different material. Different make. Same purpose, just a different time. Your zipper, serves the same purpose as the strings you tied up. To keep......everything....tucked away.”

-despite her trying to keep her mind from wandering to far astray, her heart beat kicked up slightly as she carefully tried to show him what and where the zipper was. Her finger brushing against the jeans as she flicked the little metal pull tab of the zipper.-

“You grab that and pull up but....be careful. I hear it’s not a pleasant experience to get something caught in the zipper that shouldn’t be caught. That’s, in part, what the underwear are for.”

-she was surprised she’d gotten it out without floundering but the warmth in her cheeks had grown, she could feel it.-
 
Not without a shade of disappointment, Mahon watched Mara distance herself from him, a mere step but enough to make him think for a second that he'd misread her attraction. Then she played with his doubt, her familiarity back as a whispering finger stroked at his hip, his eyes falling to the gesture as he processed her description of the pants he was wearing. His questions about the clothing, however, were abandoned, of minor importance anyway as the heat returned to his body and his gaze.

The final straw came when her finger stroked a little too close to his crotch, explaining, he realized later, the function of the mysterious "zipper." Closing the distance between them again, Mahon's arm swept around Mara's waist, pulling her flush against him to mold against the hard lines of his form, and feel the swelling flesh below that rose up to meet her, filling the fabric of his jeans. Before she had a chance to say much else, Mahon bent slightly and captured her lips in a savage, brutal kiss, his breathing deepening as he massaged her lips with his own, scraping her soft cheeks with his light beard scruff.

Breaking the kiss, he stayed close, his lips hovering over hers in gentle, sweet drifting, caressing lightly as his breathing calmed, his darkened gaze watching her with hungered intensity and passion. "Where do you sleep?" he asked, his voice husky and quietly demanding. She was taking too long to explain it to him, seemingly more shocked by the implication of him asking than she was actually ready to reveal the location to him. His need for release was too great, her warmth and the softness of her squirming against him, building the pressure to impossible levels.

Bending slightly, Mahon reached down with both hands to cup Mara's ass cheeks, her thighs naturally spreading around his slender hips as he lifted her, supporting her against his pelvis. Kissing her more, stoking those fires yet again, Mahon turned to the most likely direction, the as of yet unexplored stairway that twisted slightly as it ascended upward. Despite her weight and the fat in her curves, Mahon held her and carried her effortlessly, a soft humming deep in his throat as he contemplated the conquest he was about to make, clicking up the stairs in his bare feet with her.

Upstairs, Mahon found her bed easily and sat her upon it, his hands never leaving her as they pulled her shirt up and off of her arms and head. For a moment, he froze, struck by the oddness of the clothing that contained her breasts, like a piece of armor or a harness of some kind. He shook it off quickly though as her deep cleavage caught his attention and his hand reached out to pet and stroke the plush mounds. Pushing the straps down her shoulders, Mahon leaned a knee on the bed beside her, kissing her heatedly as more of her breasts became visible through the strange, pretty harness she wore. Tugging at the border of one, pulling it down so the doughy mound practically gushed out of the fabric cup, Mahon released a low, rumbling sound of desire from his chest, bending to kiss at her freed breast. Capturing a nipple in his lips, his hands stroked over her plush, healthy middle, tugging insistently at her waist, even as he moved himself closer, setting a leg between her thighs, holding himself steady with a foot planted on the floor between hers. He wished to bare her completely, but the harness confused him, even as he petted and groped her through the delicate, shiny fabric and continued to suck her nipple hotly.
 
“Oh....”

-her lips formed an ‘O’ of surprise as he pulled her against him. Dark eyes widened and blinked at him.-

“M....”

-it was all she managed before his name became nothing more than a muffled sound against his lips as they crushed against the plushness of her own. Her own inner demons battling each other in that moment.

Her hands clasped against his chest, in one moment ready to gently push him away but in the next, her fingers curled instead into the fabric of his new shirt, drawing the material tighter against his shoulders.

The warm demand of his lips, his scent, the very real twitch and shift of muscles beneath her hands, the very real desirous heat of his body as it pressed against her plump frame.....it all coalesced into a heady cloud, filling her head and senses.

When the kiss broke, it left her panting softly and feeling mildly confused. She blinked at his question. Her lips working softly but nothing came to pass. Even as he lifted her so easily from the floor, barely a whisper of a yelp of surprise escaped before his lips descended upon hers again and wiped clear any thought she had of denying him.

Her hands loosened their grip on his shirt, shifting and sliding instead against the sides of his neck before one found his jaw and the other tangled fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck. Her breathing quickened as she returned the kiss, her thick thighs clutched softly against him. There was no fear or worry that he would drop her, she felt safe clutched in his strong grip.

Only a soft gasp as his lips pulled away, drawing her blouse over her head. That cloud once again briefly a-skewing any rational thought she might be able to formulate...until he froze. That brief pause gave her one of her own. She swallowed thickly, her tongue sweeping over the taste of his left on her lips.

The porcelain mounds of flesh rose and fell softly as she drew in a deep breath.-

“Moe....we....I....we......shou.....”

-and once again his lips stole the words from her mouth. Destroying and banishing them from her mind as the kiss swept her up in a pleasant warmth again. The rough flesh of his palms against the soft, pliable flesh of her body, leaving trails of fire against her shoulders and chest, consuming her slowly. Until he bent and captured her nipple between his lips. The fire blossomed through her entire being as a soft groan fell upon his ears and he’d feel her hands softly tugging at his own shirt for just a moment. Desire taking root completely, against whatever better judgement she might have possessed even just moments ago.

Her hands stroked from his shoulders down his arms until she found his hands, guiding them around behind her to the small hooks at the back of her bra, a silent instruction of how to fully remove the confusing and cumbersome material.-
 
It'd been a long time since Mahon had eased this particular itch. He'd been working his way through bloody battles over the course of the last 6 months, making his way to the malevolent center of the Demon Lord's kingdom. There hadn't been time for his usual distractions and even if there had, he'd been so deep in the darkest, grossest spheres of the hideous tainted kingdom, there hadn't been anything lovely or remotely good to lose himself into.

So, here he was, starved for the sweetness of another person, lured in as much by Mara's tenderness and meekness as he was by her plump, healthy body and beauty. As she responded to him, it coaxed the baser parts of Mahon awake, her soft body squirming with an enticing vulnerability, different shades of open to him and innocent as she shied from his demanding onslaught. Suckling deeply on her rosy nipple, shoving the cup of shiny, smooth fabric off of her other breast, freeing her flesh to be stroked and played with in coaxing, commanding hands, a deep sound of rumbling pleasure came from his throat as Mara's delicate hands stroked at his face and neck in plaintive encouragement.

A harsh growl slipped from his suckling lips when she moved his hands off of her, possessive and dominant as he thought for a moment that she wished to resist him again in her shy, ladylike manner. Toying with her erect nub between his teeth in warning, he calmed when his hands were pressed to the back of her harness, his fingers instantly stroking over what felt like metal or buttons of some kind latching the fabric together. There were no words with him in this state, taken to a primal level where the warrior could only verbalize with sound and the movements of his body. So, releasing her wet, swollen, and abused nipple with a soft pop from his lips, Mahon barked in triumph, even as he leaned in close to look over her shoulder, his hands together working at the strange contraption on her back. It was a simple design once he was able to touch it and understand, and with a short bit of pulling, he unlatched the hooks binding the two fabric pieces together.

Her plush flesh released with the sudden loosening of tension and a graveled hum exited from the depths of his chest in pleasured satisfaction as he swept greedy fingers at her smooth back, gently pushing the harness fabric forward towards her front to finally slither down her thick, silky arms. Kissing madly at her shoulder, Mahon scraped frustrated, aching teeth at her skin as he freed her fully from the strange garment. One hand tracing delicate pathways up and down her spine and the other groping her doughy breast, his large, battleworn hand barely containing the overflow of her supple, soft mound, he planted firey, wet kisses at her neck, hungry and open mouthed, begging against her in soft, hinted breaths.

Forcing her to lay back upon the bed, Mahon stood over her, possessive and commanding at the edge of the bed. She was curvaceous and gorgeous and incredibly shy to his eyes, his lust darkened eyes smiling softly in dominant hunger as he regarded her. So meek, so delicate, and his to own and mount like a terrible, ferocious beast.

Fingers drifted down to stroke her thick belly, another hungry sound coming from him, free of words yet saying plenty as he touched her, trailing down to her pants. Manhandling her, he curled his fingers into the waistband of her "jeans" trousers, and gave her a positioning tug more fully on the bed, before he began to undo the button that kept it secured tightly on her hips. Then...he froze, panting lightly as his brows furrowed in consternation, looking at the strange metal teeth at the crotch of her pants. Finding the tiny notch, Mahon gripped it and slowly tugged it down, the binding softly growling as it opened. Cocking his head curiously, fascinated by the device, Mahon gently pulled it up, resealing the crotch of her trousers. A smug grin spread across his face as warmth blossomed in his chest in realization: the zipper. And now he understood how it worked. Looking her over with intense satisfaction, Mahon tugged the zipper down again and slipped his hands into either side of the fabric pushing it down her wide hips.

Bunching down her thick thighs, as more of her became bared to him, Mahon hissed through his teeth in excited breaths, nipping at her thick thigh as he shoved her jeans down to free her of them completely. Why did a woman wear pants? It made her so much harder to access for lovemaking. He didn't understand it. With her fully naked now, Mahon shoved her thighs apart, hungry and panting as his face drew closer to her plush, wet slit, tongue stroking at her hot, silken petals. Kissing her deeply down below, Mahon let himself get a good taste of her, suckling her swelling flesh with tortured growls echoing from his throat as he did so.

Still dressed in all of his new clothes, Mahon lifted up, eyes blasted, looking down at her like a man possessed, his face shiny with dampness. Tugging at the back of his shirt, he pulled it over his head, removing it after only 10 minutes of wearing it.
 
-a soft shudder rippled through her as the growl vibrated against the tender, sensitive nub. A sharp hiss followed as he scraped his teeth against the tiny, tenderized flesh. A pleasured tinge of pain blossomed as she jerked softly in surprise. Though it didn’t stop her from her silent instruction.

A soft chuckle shaking from her chest at the sound of triumph from his own. Her head tilting into the curve of his neck as he peered over her shoulder. Her breath washing softly against his skin as she drew in his scent, her lips peppering moist and warm kisses against his skin, up to the tender flesh just belneath his ear as he worked the hooks at her back loose.

Another shiver blossomed along her spine, following the path his hand took as it swept over her soft, plush skin. Her back arching softly into his other hand as she stroked fingers through his hair, lips reluctantly leaving his flesh as she offered her own willingly to him.

A warm flush painted her porcelain skin, dark curls fanning out around her against the white comforter beneath her. She fought the urge to curl her arm around herself as he stood over her. Shy and vulnerable indeed. She wasn’t used to the attention he lavished on her, not in some time anyways. The deep desire that burned in his gaze caused her breath to catch a moment in her chest. Her lips pursing inward as she swallowed. Her belly sucking in softly, self consciously for just a second before she squeaked as he jerked her further up onto the bed.

A giggle bursting softly from her as she settled against the mattress bounce again. The sound fading as she watched him, took in his fascination with the zipper of her jeans. A smile curling her lips, dimpling her cheeks.-

“And that’s the zipper.....”

-she murmured quietly, unnecessarily but it had bubbled from her before she could stop it. She grunted softly as he tugged at the jeans, lifting her hips to allow them to uncatch and slide down easily over her thighs at his insistence. Her feet kicking softly as he drew them from her completely, her toes curling at the nervous anticipation. Laying bare before the man of her dreams, there was that brief creeping self consciousness creeping in again before he nipped at her. Muscles jumping along the silken thigh before he dove forward, burying his face between her thighs. A gasp echoed through the room, her toes curling softly into the edge of the mattress.-

“Moe.....”

-the name expelled breathily from her lips as a hand grasped against his hair, her thick frame squirming softly beneath him. He left her panting softly as he pulled back, the lust filled gaze he laid upon her took her breath away.

She rose onto her elbows, watching as he pulled the shirt from himself. Her chest rising and falling heavily as her gaze slid over his frame. A measure of uncertainty still buried beneath the desirous haze of her chocolate gaze. She pushed herself up further, a hand reaching forward, fingers trailing from his bared abdomen and over his stomach. Pausing just a second at the waist of his jeans, her gaze fluttering up to his. Her fingers tucked behind the button that held the jeans against his hips and she tugged softly, pulling him down toward her until she captured his lips this time, warm and wanting as she worked the button loose, letting the stuff material part, releasing him from the denim confines. Her palm brushed teasingly against his length as she, much as he’d done, snaked her hands beneath the material and started shimmying them down against his hips.-
 
Another deep, dragging rumble pulled from his throat, muffled against her lips as his jeans trousers were forced down his hips, her soft hand nudging against his straining, thick manhood. As his pants were lowered, revealing him again, his cock lurching free with an eager readiness, Mahon broke the kiss to help get the trousers the rest of the way off of his feet. Then he was on her, pushing Mara back onto the bed, an arm going around her to gently tug her up further, even as he positioned himself overtop of her.

It felt strange, as if there was more depth to this than simply the physical aspect and Mahon had no idea from whence it came. He didn't know this woman, yet he felt as if he was meant to. And the way she looked at him, every time he lifted his head to give her a smoldering, sensual look...this was more than purely physical for her as well. It made him feel bared, vulnerable, as if she saw him deeper than anyone had in a long time. He supposed it could simply be because of her seer abilities allowing her to connect to his consciousness as it had but he couldn't shake the sensation that there was something deeper between them than simply the odd, magical situation they'd been put into.

Effortlessly, Mahon nudged her thighs apart, wedging his hips between them, fluidly slipping his thickness into her with a breathless gasp. As her warmth encased him and began to slurp silkenly on his length, Mahon gave in to the pressures of his body to move above her in swaying thrusts. She was gorgeous, tight where it mattered and plush and loose everywhere else. His hips bobbing rapidly between her creamy thighs had him growling and groaning in delight, her bed rocking with soft squeaks as his back muscles rippled and flexed. Kissing her heatedly, Mahon slowed down, lowering himself against the plump cushion of her belly and breasts, his lips dancing with hers tenderly as his dick slid in and out at a much softer pace.

Lifting up again to look down at her, he froze and stiffened when yet again, the fog in her awestruck eyes made him feel bare and open to her gaze, as well as pulling him in for that deeper connection between them. What was this? What was happening to him? It felt less like an impersonal fuck with a whore for a moment of intimacy and relief, and more like...how it use to feel making love to Lily. A hand came up to delicately stroke at her face with the backs of his knuckles, looking into her bright, emerald green eyes, searching for what this connection was. Once again, Mahon blinked rapidly as he shoved the troubling thoughts away, defending that it was merely because she and Lily had similar curvy body types.

Once again, he picked up his pace, thrusting between her luscious thighs, driving into her with a hard, rapid frenzy as he drew closer to his end. His breathing grew deep and labored as he fucked her, the heat in his core building until he was growling softly at her neck, burying his face in the scent and taste of her as he finally fell over the blissful edge. Cumming, his cock spit in ecstasy deep within her beautiful slit, the whole of him growing tight and stiff as the waves of pleasure coursed through him. As his breathing mellowed out, panting against her neck, so that her whisps of hair gently fluttered with every deep gust, Mahon sighed as the warmth blossomed outward and through him. Even this, his orgasm, felt so much more personal and intimate than it usually did with nameless women. He felt complete, dominant and like he owned her entirely now. Which was absurd; he barely knew her.

Drawing back, Mahon lifted up on his arms, still buried within her, his softening cock feeling good and sluggish, reluctant to abandon her tight warmth. Letting his eyes trace over her features, he frowned again at that tickle of familiarity, before leaning down and kissing her again, slow and coaxing, opening himself to her secrets and this strange, tantalizing, mesmerizing tether between them.
 
-a soft breath huffed from her lips as her head hit the pillow, her eyes widening slightly even as an adoring smile curled the corners of her lips, from the sheer warrior brute he possessed and that possessed him in his want for her.

Her thighs parted, the soft plush skin pressed warm and wanting against his hips and thighs as a leg curled and tangled behind his, her foot resting against his taut calf as their bodies moved in a fluid dance together. There was nothing awkward or impersonal about it. Not in the same way that she’d written any of his other conquests. Those had been impersonal. The few times he had stopped to scratch that itch, the women had been kind of cold and distant. Skinny and just quick enough to put his mind and body at rest before they were gone, leaving him alone again.

Every touch she lavished on him was anything but cold and distant. Her fingers, as they bit softly into the shifting and flexing muscles of his back and arms, they were warm and craving. Every gasp and moan that left her lips as she writhed and rose to meet his thrusts spoke volumes of her want and desire for him.

As his fingers stroked her cheek, her lustful green gaze stared into his own a moment before fluttering closed and her head tipped, a hand curling around the back of his as her lips pressed warm and lovingly against his knuckles, just as Lily would do whenever he caressed her face.

Her own climax came with his, her arms and hands clutching softly against him as she held to him, her body pressing, plush and flushed with a pink hue against him as the pleasure of the moment bloomed through her and enveloped him in the warm wet embrace of her own orgasm. Her muscles pulling softly against him, rather than pushing him away as others had done.

A hand stroked over his cheek as he peered down at her flushed features, her eyes danced content over his face. Her head tilting softly as the frown curled his lips. Her thumb caressing the corner of the downturned expression in concern before he leaned forward, her hand shifting to just behind his ear as her lips welcomed the kiss, returning it with a warmth and tenderness.-
 
In the midst of kissing her, his heart aching with the warmth bursting within him, Mahon retreated. Not simply because it was strange to open his heart so willingly to this exotic, beautiful woman, his mind reeling from how quickly he fell into her. Nor was it the fact that she basically believed she was his deity, his creator, and it was odd to give in to that, almost as if he was submitting and agreeing with her. It was because of Lily.

Wedged between Mara's thick, plush thighs, comfortable and sated, his soft cock loose inside her, things softly wet, his body smelling of her, and she smelling strongly of his robust, masculine mark; dejavu struck him upside the head with a severity that clutched at his heart and soul. It felt like a normal Sonnday afternoon...way back when... A time when he'd started to hope, peace finally coaxing him to relax after all that time training to become a warrior strong enough to avenge his family name and the deaths of his parents and siblings. It had taken until Tiger's third year for Mahon to finally believe that he could let it go, that he could be a blacksmith in Devinshire instead of the tormented warrior he was becoming. That he could have more sons and a daughter and tie the Goddess knot betwixt their hands with his beloved under the moon light, saying the vows. ...that he could be safe.

All of a sudden, he could feel it. Mara stepping boldly into that room, the one he always locked and never entered, never for the whores, never for the willing and easy wenches. Like it was her space, as if she belonged there. Protectively, Mahon clutched at his memories of Lily and those sedate Sonndays, buried in her plush curves, calm and safe, planning their next day in meandering whispers so as not to wake Tiger from his nap in the tiny alcove just off their bedroom. Grief, like a glowing white iron, scorched him with a sudden vehemence and Mahon flinched above the woman he had bedded in the here and now. No Sonnday. No teasing about a wedding. No threat of waking his baby son if they giggled too loud.

Looking down at Mara as the kiss broke, his eyes were shuttered, retreating internally far faster than he did physically, although he was doing that now, rolling off of her and pulling away to keep her from touching him. She couldn't take Lily from him and he wouldn't let her, no matter how much his heart ached in the loneliness and mourning of what he'd lost. Rubbing a hand on his forehead, his face a grim mask, Mahon sat at the edge of the bed, rethinking things.

It wasn't Mara's fault. She wasn't trying to replace Lily because the lovemaking hadn't been her idea. In fact, it had entirely been him, his heart and body sensing how similar she was to his lovely woman, cleaving to her, desperate for comfort in oblivion and intimacy. He'd allowed himself to get too personal, to open up too much, and now he felt the sting of regret. He couldn't risk that giving in would not only destroy Lily inside him but also derail his mission of avenging his beloved and his precious boy.

Sighing softly, his muscular shoulders relaxing, Mahon cast a cold, neutral look back at her, staring for a long, silent moment before standing from the bed. As he slipped his jeans trousers back on, this time pulling the zipper up, Mahon murmured a low, "Thank you," without even looking at her. When he turned back, searching for his shirt among the discarded clothes, his eyes avoided her, retreating fully into the comfort of distance behind his wall. "We should eat," he said simply, slipping the shirt on over his head, unaware that the tight discomfort in the collar meant that he'd put it on backwards. "Also, we have not been watching the vision window. Is it possible we might have missed news of Gammon? Is there a way to let the people of America know that we search for him?"
 
-she did not reach for him. She’d seen the look, it was a look she’d written onto him many times before and she knew what the look truly meant. He was shutting himself off from thoughts of her, of Lily.

Mentally she kicked herself...for not being more insistent on pushing him away. For it stopping it. She was just as guilty. She should have told him, should have insisted on telling him before hand.

It was the cold and neutral stare that caused her to flinch softly, inwardly. When he stood, she quietly drew herself to the edge of the bed as he moved to the foot of it. Standing herself, she moved the short distance to the armoire to retrieve her robe. She made no reply to his murmured thanks, she couldn’t without her voice breaking and she knew it. It wasn’t his fault that she suddenly felt like one of those easy and willing wenches she’d wrote into his existence. It was her own.

She watched him quietly in the mirror on the inside of the armoire door as she pulled the flowery, thin and silken robe around her and tied it. What have I done to you, Moe? The thought tang painfully inside her head and she averted her attention away from his reflection as he slipped into his shirt.

Leaning to the drawers below, she pulled out a pair of pajamas and a clean pair of panties.-

“You go ahead and eat. I’m going to shower.”

-she replied softly as she straightened. She wasn’t all that hungry at the moment. The guilt and self consciousness filling her pretty well on its own currently. And she would eat it, pain and all because she’d made it. She’d written it and this was what it had become. A bland and unexpected meal that weighed heavily on her heart, her mind and in her belly.

Closing the doors, she turned. Her eyes licking quietly over him in his new clothes. While he looked right at home in them, and quite good to boot, she knew just how out of place he was in them and here.-

“Your shirts on backwards, Moe.”

-she said with a soft sniff and a faint curl of her lips. She cleared her throat and started toward the stairs, passing him in silence before she stopped to answer his questions.-

“It is possible we missed it but I’ll look around on the internet once I’m out of the shower to see if anything has come up. While you’re eating, you can keep an eye on the tv, in case we didn’t miss it. Unfortunately, without just cause, we can’t really put it out there that he’s missing or even dangerous because everything he’s done hasn’t been.....here.”

-her tone was soft, her lips pursing inward as her gaze lingered on him for just a moment longer. The soft flush and contented glow that had painted her cheeks and skin was gone. Her fingers clutching and unclutching the material she held in her arms before she finally turned and started down the stairs he’d carried her up.-

“I wouldn’t eat the slice of pizza sitting on the plate. Bear has been eating on it. You can tear off a few pieces and give them to her, if you’re so inclined. Might make her like you again.”

-her voice curled softly up the stairs as she descended and disappeared down the small hallway toward the bathroom.-
 
It wasn't lost on him, the way she retreated as well. In fact, if anything, it made Mahon relax a bit more, grateful that she seemed to understand where he wanted things now in a less intimate, less personal sphere. His eyebrows bounced to his hairline before glancing down at his shirt, touching his chest and wondering how she could tell that it was backwards; it looked just the same from both sides. Still, he removed it, turning it around and looking at both sides before pulling it back on in the manner she said to. There was a slight loosening on the neckline, making the garment more comfortable, but other than that, Mahon didn't understand the difference, nor how she could tell. How very strange.

Perking up at her description of a "net" that she would look in, Mahon nodded in reluctant understanding about her other point. He supposed that made sense that the government of America wouldn't go after someone simply on their word that he was evil, especially with the two continents separated as they were to have no knowledge of each other at all. It was a little frustrating to him because if they waited too long, Gammon would have a foothold here and some of his demon creatures bred for his army. So, it would just have to be something he and Mara would have to keep a look out for on their own.

As she left, Mahon followed her a moment later, glancing back at the mussed, damp sheets, not without a little discomfort and guilt. Not for how he treated Mara but for how he'd almost forgotten Lily, opening himself too much to the strange seer. He would have to remember to be careful about that in the future when he bedded her again. And there was no doubt in his mind that he would have her again, thinking it easier than hunting down a harlot in this unfamiliar place, especially when Mara had satisfied him so completely. Then again...looking at the bed, remembering the way she felt inside, the way she'd looked at him, as if really seeing him to his core, he thought maybe it might not be a bad idea to refrain from bedding her again. After all, he'd hate to teeter on the brink of losing himself every time he fucked and after the years since he'd lost Lily only feeling this way now, it seemed to be tied heavily to something about Mara posing such a threat to his heart.

Going back downstairs, as he passed the short hall to the washing room, Mahon glanced at the door with the light under it, listening to the sound of the water running. Inside the room, Claw, leaning against the wall, the iridescent, white moonstone in its pommel flashed and it chimed softly in shy recognition of the woman in there with it. A simple spirited blade, it had no concept of distance and barely an acknowledgement of time, its consciousness heavily tied to emotion. And it felt Mara's connection to it, knowing her as...mother. The little song it sang was less something heard and more something felt in the blood and bones, hitting into her heart as it greeted the woman it knew to be its Creator.

In the living room, Mahon looked at the vision window, not recognizing the faces and voices, barely hearing them as he stood blankly staring for a moment. Reaching for the black box on the table, Mahon inspected it a moment before pressing the buttons he watched Mara touch, the voices coming back from their hushed murmuring, blaring loud in the room. Leaving it as is, Mahon next turned his attention to the boxes marked "PIZZA" and the dark bottles sitting beside them. Noting the bites on the triangular piece on the plate, Mahon frowned and set it aside, opening the top box and greeted by the scent of meat and bread again. Lifting out another triangular piece, Mahon turned it this way and that, looking it over before taking a bit of the thick plush crust, humming softly as the herb crusted bread hit his tongue. Very peculiar food but he immediately liked it, eating the entire piece all the way to the much thinner end. It was covered in a red sauce and cheese he now recognized and Mahon was very partial to the economics of it. A great food to take on a long journey, with all essential food items laid upon it in an easy to handle format.

The first box was empty by the time Mahon became thirsty, lifting one of the bottles and twisting the top off of it with an effortless tensing of his muscles. Giving it a soft sniff, he hummed in understanding, recognizing the aroma of hops, which was used to make lager and ale. Taking a sip, he smacked his lips in wondering approval, looking at the bottle in interest, the taste lighter and crisper than anything he'd sampled before.

While he drank and ate, he watched the loud vision window, learning as he went. Some things were a bit lost on him, confusing, but the tee vee was helpful and informative, seemingly as its main function. So, even though he had no knowledge of "Russia", he knew from previous information a vague idea of who the president Trump was, and he understood what the word "collusion" meant. So, as he listened and watched, the vision window took him on an informative journey, telling him a tale of two nations, the leaders of which he assumed were not openly working together as allies. At one point, Mahon glanced behind himself to check that Mara had not emerged from the washing room yet, before getting up and approaching the window.

It was less of a window than he originally thought, the images not becoming clearer or closer as he stood in front of it. In fact, it was more of a picture or a moving painting, the surface flat and soft to the touch, his stroking fingers doing nothing to affect the stories told through the tee vee. His curiosity satisfied, Mahon went back to the cushioned chair, opening a new bottle of light lager as he turned to the second box of pizza. That was when he noticed that he was no longer alone, the small cat from before peering at him over the opposite edge of the small table. Mahon scowled tensely at her, watching her warily as she licked her lips and watched him back. When she made no moves towards him, he continued to open the box, reaching in to get another piece for himself, taking bites of it crust first. Suddenly, the critter jumped onto the table then, warily bobbing her head towards the box and Mahon barked in shock and disgruntled possessiveness. Animals ate outdoors and lived outdoors. They did not stand on tables, nor did they eat pizza from his hands. With a guttural growl in his throat, Mahon shoved her in the side, the lithe creature losing all grace as she slid violently off of the edge, plopping in a stumbling, hissing distress onto the floor once again.

"Be gone, you foul beast!" Mahon shouted, even as she darted a distance away, watching him woundedly from the bottom of the stairs. "The pizza is mine!"
 
-she had barely held it together in the time it took her to get down the stairs and behind the blissful privacy of the bathroom door. Her lips pursed inward as she continued to fight the roiling emotions, as she concentrated on turning the water on to warm up.

Dropping her clothes onto the marbled counter of the sink, she leaned against it. Couldn’t even look at herself in the mirror at the moment as her emotions began to rise like bile from the pit of her stomach.

Her own self conscious insecurities and painful self loathing singing through her. Vibrating in the very depths of her. An unusual feeling because usually, she wasn’t like this.

A hand rose, fingers pressing and swiping against her forehead as it wrinkled softly. With a sigh, she straightened and began slipping the robe from her shoulders. Draping it across the sink counter as well.

When she turned, she noticed Claw once again as it leaned against the wall. When she’d first entered, she’d had that momentary burst of anger, wrongfully directed at anyone but herself, and had half a mind to throw the sword and all the rest of what he’d left out into the hallway. Until she’d reminded herself once more that....none of this was Mahon’s fault. None of it.

The flash of the Stone drew her attention again. The light from above the mirror must have hit it just right as she’d turned. Whatever the case, it caught her attention and as she stepped into the shower, fingers caressed softly against the hilt before she snapped the shower curtain closed fully. The added weight to her heart didn’t go unnoticed but nor was it suspicious. Just another pang of guilt that finally pushed her to the edge and she stepped beneath the flowing rainlike water to wash away the tears that finally sprang forth from her eyes.-

”I’m so sorry, Mahon.”

-she whispered to no one but the shower walls. Running her hands over her face, pushing the tears and shower water back through her hair, soaking it in preparation of a good washing. She decided then and there, there would not be a next time. As much as she loved Mahon and everything she’d made him to be, she could not bare the thought of further hurting him or herself in that way.

She took her time, longer than usual and she knew it was for no other reason than she was loathe to face Moe again just yet. Despite her adamant claim to herself, she wasn’t so sure she was strong enough to follow through. She hadn’t been able to the first time. After she’d washed herself, she stood beneath the stream of water, feeling it grow chiller, watching her fingers prune softly until finally the cold of the water drove her from the shower and to the warmth of her towel and pajamas.

A tug of the robes ties as she walked down the hall, indeed she’d slipped it on over her pajamas, she wanted to be as unattractive as possible at the moment, multiple layers, all in hopes of helping her to keep him at bay, should the need arise any time too soon. What she wasn’t admitting to herself was that she was really trying to keep her own emotions wrapped up in thick protective layers. The shout drew her attention and she knew that Bear was giving Mahon a hard time, his reaction drew a soft snort from her.-

“Just pushing all kinds of pussy away today....”

-she murmured as she drew nearer the end of the hall. It wasn’t meant for his ears and she was certain she’d said it low enough he wouldn’t hear her as she came into view.-

“Ah, this piece is not. This one is hers.”

-she chuckled as she grabbed the plate the nibbled on slice sat and carried it to her desk. A good place to be. Away from Moe, away from any temptation she might fall into again.

She clicked her tongue softly to the cat that peered expectantly around Mahon, even from the distance she was at. Staring wide eyed at the tongue clicking. Bear knew she was being called but she was leery of passing the man beast that kept pushing her away.-

“Oh fine.....”

-she murmured, tearing the slice into small pieces, she dumped them all back into the plate and once again passed Moe as she headed toward the kitchen this time. Bear picking up with a flick of her tail and a soft, insulted glare across the space at Mahon before she jingled her way into the kitchen behind Mara until the plate was set onto the floor. Mara gave her a quick pet before she turned and made her way back.-

“Nothing on Gammon, I’m guessing?”

-she asked softly, her eyes flicking toward the television screen. Keeping herself busy, she made her way toward the fallen book. Bending to lift it from where it had landed earlier. She licked her lips and slid it back into its place on the shelf before circling her desk to settled into the chair.-
 
Mahon merely glanced at the drama with the cat, huffing a soft, dismissive breath at the feline before returning to the ale and pizza and the vision window stories. He was trying to ignore Mara...but it was difficult. She kept moving about. First, trying to lure the tiny beast to her with the half-eaten pizza. Then walking in front of him a couple times, obscuring his view of the tee vee with her luscious, swaying curves. Even hidden under the layers of clothing, everything she wore was still plenty close enough, hugging her body, her waist sinched with the robe belt, emphasizing the plump roll of her delicious breasts, and the full glide of her hips. He realized at one point that he was staring as she bent over to pick up his book from where he'd thrown it in his rage earlier, and he quickly redirected his gaze to the vision window, taking a long, gulping pull from his bottle of ale.

It was hard to know the source of his thoughts and why, even after being so recently satisfied, Mahon still seemed lustful. It wasn't often he got to bed a woman as healthy and curvaceous as Mara and her sweet embrace had been intoxicating. Even now, his cock was rubbing discomfitting against the zipper and stiff fabric of his trousers as it grew semi-hard at thoughts of Mara's thick and creamy thighs...her green eyes darkening with lust and love.

Chewing his mouthful of pizza, Mahon gripped at the crotch of his jeans, adjusting himself with a small huff as he kept his eyes on the tee vee. Opening another bottle of ale, Mahon shook his head in response to her question.

"Aye. Nothing," he said, swallowing several mouthfuls of the ale and burping softly against the side of his fist. "Although this vision window is a great source of information about your country. Your leader, the President Trump, seems to face a lot of opposition but I cannot fathom why. He is building a wall to keep out invaders, he fights fake tales and rumors about himself that his enemies spread, and he gets along with the Kim Korea and Putin Russia, America's neighbors, I assume. He seems a fine leader. Then again...all my life, evil men have ruled over Pas. Even the King before my brother was a despicable warlock and tyrant."

He was briefly somber about that, thinking of his dead mother and sister, and the trails that led to his enslaved younger brother becoming the evil Demon Lord he was today. Sighing softly, his grey green eyes found Mara and he brightened a little as a new thought occurred to him. "Maybe if you check the net, we might have caught him?"
 
-she groaned softly and pushed back up from the chair. She didn’t want to get too close to Mahon but she had no choice, the remote was on the coffee table in front of him. She noticed then that the tv was louder than it had been and she couldn’t help but cast a soft smile in his direction as she leaned to grab the remote.

She turned to face the television. The fragrant Japanese Cherry Blossom body wash and shampoo she’d used clung to her as closely as the clothes she wore and it wafted through the space as she turned, the remote pointing toward the screen.-

“Enough politics for you. He’s really not that great a man nor a leader. Hopefully he won’t completely destroy our great country before he’s replaced in a year or so.”

-she said simply and snorted. That was a rabbit hole she didn’t much care to go down. Truthfully she hated politics and while she agreed to a point with some things, most of them were ludicrously obscene. She didn’t want to explain every thing to Mahon in the political arena nor did she want him learning any of the half truths the media was spilling and be misinformed.-

“How about some baseball. Something mind numbingly simple.”

-she murmured and changed the channel. Carrying the remote with her, she made her way back to the desk. Her attention purposefully steering clear of Mahon and whether baseball was something he’d enjoy. She was stuck on his other statement.

How the King before Gammon had been an evil, tyrannical man. She felt as if an invisible hand had reached through her ribcage, clenched her heart in its malicious fingers and squeezed and twisted. She’d done that too. Slaughtered his mother and sister, father and turned his brother into a monster. Along with the deaths of Lily and Tiger. And she was forcing him to face the maniacal tyrant that was now his brother. Forcing him to kill the only family he had left. She had done this. She had turned Mahon into the cold glance that she’d thoroughly deserved upstairs.

Sitting back in her chair, an elbow resting against the arm of it, her fingers idly smoothing over her lips, her brow furrowed as she stared at the stack of papers that she’d printed out. She resisted the urge to send them and the paper weight that held them down, flying across the room in a fit of unadulterated anger....at her damned self.-

“Hmmm?”

-she blinked and turned to see the brightened look in his beautiful eyes. It took a second for his words to catch up with her. She’d heard them but she hadn’t processed them as she’d been lost in her own self deprecation at what she’d done to Moe.-

“Oh. Yeah, I’ll look.”

-she offered a menial smile, her eyes darting away from him and turning toward the computer in front of her instead as she leaned forward and woke the machine up. The keys clacking softly as her fingers tapped against them as she searched. She couldn’t very well search Gammon’s name. All that would come up would be her book.

She did however search recent news stories from here to the deep bayous of Louisiana. She found nothing directly related to anything, other than paper stories concerning the incident earlier with Mahon himself. They’d spoken to Mendelssohn and he’d clarified that Mara had talked her clearly drunken friend down and saved the police a lot of paper work and space in the local drunk tank but that was really it. There was a story, concerning a light of some sort splashing down into the marshy backwoods in the bayou but again, nothing overtly ominous about the Demon Lord. It could have been any number of things to be honest but since no one had seen any physical being, the story was buried in the depths of the interwebs. It could have been something as simple as debris that had come through with Mahon honestly. After all, he’d said he’d been sucked into the swirling light. Anything not bolted down solidly could have come through as well.

Leaning on her elbow, fingers clutched in thought against her lips, she stared at the screen. Trying to come up with something else she could possibly try looking up but she was lost in other thoughts as well.-
 
And here he thought he'd been getting the hang of things. He didn't want to stop watching the vision window, wanting to learn more about America and its leader, so as to better understand where he was. Frowning softly at Mara as she came to stand beside him, his protest of her turning off the vision window was briefly swallowed up as he became engulfed in the sweet, blossom scent of her. Distracted and mesmerized by the light, flowery aroma, Mahon let his gaze lick over her body as she stood close, smelling so delicious.

He needed to do a better job of resisting her. Never before had he been so consumed by a woman's embrace and he grew slightly frustrated thinking of how preoccupied he'd become. But he couldn't help it. Partly it was how appealing she was and the fact that now he knew her, thus knew the bliss she could bring. But it was also, it was the little things that made America different that had him stumbling to have her again already. Tight clothing, beautiful smells in her hair and on her skin. All that bloody clear water on hand, America was much cleaner than Pas ever was, which made her skin clear and smooth, his fingers aching to touch her.

As she drifted away, Mahon released the breath he'd been holding, both relieved that some distance could come between them and filled with aching yearning as the ghost of her scent lingered around him. He looked at the vision window, frowning at the way the story had changed. He was glad that she hadn't turned it off but what it had changed to was not nearly as compelling.

As she sat at her desk in front of some sort of gray tablet, Mahon lifted a curious brow at her assurance that she would look and he grew deeply intrigued over the idea that she was checking the net for Gammon. What sort of net was it? Would it really be that easy to capture the Demon Lord. Grabbing a fresh bottle of ale, Mahon ignored the small voice inside him, urging him to stay physically away from Mara until he could better control his impulses, wandering over to her desk to look at the grey tablet in front of her. Drifting to stand beside her chair, Mahon blinked softly at the printed words upon the softly glowing surface. Taking a swig from his bottle, Mahon swallowed before a bark of triumph came from him, watching the words change when Mara clicked a few of the pieces in front of her.

"It's a vision window!" he said happily, understanding brightening his eyes, even as he bent over, leaning over her shoulder to reach and stroke the window surface with his fingers, delicately petting the cool, smooth surface. "Does one have the people in it and this one shows only words?" he asked, his eyes tracing over the little letter blocks in front of her. Mahon touched a couple, stiffening and blinking in surprise as the screen lurched and changed in response to his touch, his hand straightening as he shied from touching it further. "This...magic is superior to that on Pas..." he murmured in gentle awe. "Accessible to more people than just witches and sorcerers. Is any of it dark? Or is it all light? You are not cursed for using any of it, are you?" Dark magic was known for its destructive power and despite his unfamiliarity with this new magic, Mahon did not get the impression at all that any of it was dark. If anything, it seemed very scholarly, geared towards education and passing on knowledge, which seemed very Light and good to him.

"What about the net?" Mahon asked her, taking another long gulp from his bottle of ale, his eyes searching the screen of words for anything resembling netting. "Is Gammon captured? How do you...look at it? Does the vision window and the tiny tee vee tell you?" Looming over her, smelling of the sex they'd had and his worn and tired leathers, Mahon's lips formed a grim line. "I doubt the net will hold him for long, so, we need to know as soon as he has been caught, so that we may go to that location and I will kill him."
 
-she nearly jumped out of her skin when his exuberant cry of understanding sounded so close. She was so lost in thought, she hadn’t heard, smelt or felt his approach.-

“Oh for fucks sake, Moe.”

-her hand slapped against her chest as her heart raced a million miles a minute it seemed and not just from the scare but...she felt the warmth and strength of his shoulder as her own collided with him in her movement. Her attention turning toward him as a breathy laugh escaped her....but she also noticeable moved in a way that would separate them, just enough. Though he was still far too close which kept her already thudding heart, thudding just a little faster.-

“I’m gonna have to put a bell on you too, I swear. Whew....ok, let’s call them what they are, yeah? That over there, is a television or tv. This is a computer. More specifically, a laptop. That one over there, is what’s called a desk top computer. These two do the same thing, except this one, I could take over to the couch or just about anywhere with me if I wanted to and use it.”

-she’d rolled the chair back slightly, allowing him a little more room to look the laptop over. Her elbow resting against the desk as she half faced him in the chair. Her mind focused on explaining things to him, rather than dwelling on the matter she’d been previously lost in.-

“Well, yeah. Sort of. The tv does occasionally show words but usually not quite like this. And the computer....”

-she chuckled gently, watching his reaction as the screen shifted and began loading an entirely different page when he touched the keyboard. She scooted closer as he straightened, her fingers poised above the keys as she used the page he’d accidentally opened and typed YouTube into the address bar. Letting it load, she clicked on a music video that popped up, ready to be played but she waited. One thing at a time with Mahon.-

“The computer can show videos as well. Really you can find, read and watch just about anything on here. It is almost like magic but not quite. This, this is all progression from your time, Moe. It’s....electronics and electricity. Not magic though. No curses. Just....information at your fingertips through the internet, along with cute cat videos, music videos, books.....a whole plethora of just about anything you can think of. Except....Gammon. I can’t find any news stories of him. Nothing solid anyways. There was a light anomaly over the deep bayou but nothing else. It could have been anything. But we’ll keep an eye on that area, yeah?”

-she sighed softly and pushed the chair back, standing from it, she pushed it toward him, clicking the video to start it, letting it roll through its brief ad as she spoke to Mahon.-

“Here, sit and watch. Maybe music’ll be better than baseball, hmm? I’m going to go heat up a couple slices of pizza, if you left me any.”

-her hand started toward him, to ruffle his hair playfully but she pulled back, letting her hand drop to her side as she skirted around him instead and went to look at how much pizza was left.

The soft strains of a live version of Garth Brooks “The Dance” began to filter through the cavernous space around them. Mara hummed along softly. Garth was one of her favorites and this was one of her favorite songs. If he liked it, she could easily put one of her many Garth cd’s on and let them play through and she’d be just as content to listen.-
 
It was all a bit much to take in, not just the myriad of items and how they worked but also their names as well. And Mahon felt bad because he got the sense that she'd told him some of these things before but he'd only half-heard her or understood the words she'd used. So, he made more of an effort, watching and listening closely as she pointed to her different magic windows and named them. Television. Computer. Laptop. Got it.

Disappointment filtered into his expression when she said she had not found Gammon but he kept himself stony and closed off, not wanting his impatience and frustration to show. It wasn't like Mara wasn't taking this seriously but he couldn't help bitterly thinking that she didn't truly understand how important this was. It wasn't just about him. If Gammon was allowed to exist in this realm for too long without challenge, it would have dire consequences for all of them.

As he was urged to take a seat, Mahon did so, looking with expectant interest at the moving pictures and talking people in the...the laptop. He was fond of bards and minstrels and even knew how to play a tune or two on a recordour, although his favorite instrument to listen to was a lute. "There are slices of pizza left for you to have," Mahon said to her, hesitating over the unfamiliar words, hoping that he was using them correctly. In fact, the second pizza was barely touched, only two pieces taken from it.

Turning to the screen as the music began to play, Mahon was held rapt by the beautiful, lilting music drifting from the laptop. As the bard's deep, melodious voice came on, Mahon smiled softly, already loving the way the song was put together. The tale he weaved, Mahon realized, was not as happy as the accompanying music made it seem, and his smile faded as his mind drifted over the words. There was something bittersweet and longing about it all, and it touched Mahon's heart in ways the bards stories back on Pas hadn't in a long time. Then again, it'd been a long time since he'd last had occasion to sit and listen to one.

When the song was finished, Mahon smiled softly, having enjoyed that immensely - was there no limit to these windows and their magic? From the comfort of Mara's house, her couch, eating pizza and drinking ale, he could invite a private performance from a bard, told stories and sung to at his leisure. Desiring more, Mahon leaned forward, peering at the letter pieces curiously, frowning in confusion, not knowing what to push to listen to another performance. Looking at the screen, Mahon read the name under the small window, intuitively understanding that the story title was "The Dance" and that possibly the storyteller's name was Garth Brooks.

Frustrated and not wanting to accidentally press something to make the bard and his music disappear, Mahon lifted up slightly from his seat, looking into the kitchen for his host but he wandered closer as he said, "Mara. I don't know how to get more of the bard stories from Garth Brooks and I don't wish to break the...the laptop." Standing near the island counter, his eyes once again licked over her curves and body with a gentle amore. She didn't put him in mind of a mother or a wife but when she moved about the kitchen space, preparing the pizza slices for eating, she looked at home. Beautiful, domestic, filling Mahon with thoughts and feelings of nurturing and home.

Such yearning thoughts momentarily rendered him speechless and he had to pull his eyes to her face, clearing his throat as he tried to get back on track. "I need your help for just a moment on the inner net. Is there more music we can listen to?"
 
-her head turned, glancing over her shoulder as she set a couple slices of the pizza onto a plate, covering it with a paper towel.-

“Hmm?”

-she murmured gently when he called her name. A smile curled her lips as he continued. Quite pleased at both the fact that he didn't wish to break her laptop and the fact that he referred to it as such. He was trying and it warmed her heart to know he was and damn him....making her adore him even more.

She slipped the plate into the microwave and made her way back across the space toward him.-

“There is. Would you like to listen to more of his music or something else? Also....”

-she spoke as she approached the desk and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. Close but not too close still.-

“It’s internet....but you’re getting the hang of things and that’s really good, Moe.”

-she ventured a brief pat against his wrist as she reached for the laptops mouse, preparing to show him how to work it as she waited for his answer. Hearing the beep of the microwave from the kitchen, she paid it no mind for now.-
 
"More of Garth Brooks, please," Mahon said with a nod. Of course, he was eager to hear more of this bard's music but the fact that she offered him music by others was a welcome prospect as well. How much music and different singers were there on the internet? Would he have time to listen to more? For the first time since arriving, there was a yearning tickling in his chest, something he hadn't even dared to consider until he suddenly felt assailed by a time limit. He didn't want to leave. Not yet anyway.

It hadn't been a thought for him back on Pas, what might happen for him once he killed the Demon Lord. There was nothing after it except the prospect of building himself a hut by a river in the deep wood near the village where he and Lily had lived. Peaceful, solitary, spending his days enjoying the quiet serenity of nature, living off the land until he died. He couldn't ever see himself taking another lover, nor bearing any more children. And if there were other wars, he wanted no part in it. Gammon was his responsibility, not just the brother he'd failed to save or stop from becoming evil, but also the murderer of his family, his hopes and dreams. The ultimate good of Pas was a nice byproduct but Mahon had no desire to be a killer for the rest of his life. Not unless there was some evil, just as dreadful as the wicked Demon Lord.

But now...he had different thoughts, a different future starting to come together for him. Mara and her new, exciting world, with its information at a touch, its music playing anywhere, and its wealthy women and good food... It was more than that. There were no warriors here. Mara said so herself. He wouldn't have to be vigilant, he wouldn't have to be ready and waiting to pull his wrapped sword down from the rafters when the call for help came. He wouldn't have to chase down hordes of insane, inhuman beings who ate the flesh of man, slaughtering them in an endless stream of fury. He could truly find peace.

As Mara's hand briefly touched his, Mahon looked down, watching as she touched the small pad on the front of the laptop, the screens on the laptop changing as she did so. It made him think of how easy it would be to love her. Here, his retirement wouldn't have to be alone. Already, he felt a physical pull to her that was hard to deny, a connection to her that made it easy to be with her. And once the Demon Lord was dead...there would be no reason to resist it any longer. Lily could find peace, her soul put to rest in the grave of his mind, a new life and love started with this woman beside him.

The song that began to play instantly brought a smile to Mahon's face, the tune fun and light and the bard's voice likable and full of charm as his story began. "Thank you," Mahon beamed, allowing her to leave the desk to return to the kitchen for her food. He stood listening a moment before leaving the desk, allowing the music to play in its playful beat. As Mara started to leave the kitchen, Mahon held his hand out to her as he asked, "Do you dance?"

She seemed momentarily shocked by the question, not seemingly knowing what to do with the plate of pizza. "Dance with me, lady," Mahon said, giving her a sunny, boyish grin. He wasn't big on smiling, the expression brief and often over small moments of controlled satisfaction. Here he gave her a blinding grin, showing teeth and tipping his head slightly, plaintively asking her to indulge him in this brief moment of feeling good and safe. Taking the plate from her, he set it on the small table beside the boxes of pizza, quickly standing up straight to take her hands in his.

"Okay, do you know the Lelander?" he asked. For just a moment, he showed her the steps in slow, twisting his body slightly to the right, then left, arms swaying past his opposite hips with the movements, then pivoting his legs, his bare feet squeaking softly on her wooden floors. "Got it? Come, try it with me."

As Garth Brooks's voice disappeared, putting the instruments at center stage, Mahon took the stance hip to hip with Mara, moving with her through the motions at a slightly faster clip than his demonstration. Mahon laughed softly as she clumsily followed him, an actual chuckle full of warmth and honey bubbling up from his throat. "Good," he lightly praised her, pivoting quickly to switch places with her in the next series of steps in the simple, repetitive dance.
 
“You’re welcome, Moe.”

-she offered a soft smile in return and a brief pat against his shoulder as she retreated to the kitchen for her food. She pulled a paper towel from the roll and pulled her plate from the microwave, touching a finger to each piece of pizza to make sure they were warm enough to eat. Satisfied that they were, she lifted a piece from the plate as she turned, sticking the thinner, pointed end between her lips and taking a bite. She was in the middle of chewing said bite when Mahon appeared in front of her and asked if she danced. She almost choked as she shook her head, chuckling and for a brief moment, she lifted the paper towel to her lips as she finished chewing and swallowing.-

“Oh no, I am no where near coordinated enough to d....”

-she looked down briefly at her plate as well and when she glanced back at Mahon, she was nearly knocked off her feet as she was greeted with the smile. She felt both her stomach and her heart clutch inside of her. She drew in a deep breath and stared quietly at him. Her eyes caressing over his face, over his lips as they curled in that buoyant expression and she found herself lost, lost in it and lost in him. Unable to even try to deny his second request to dance. Unable to deny to herself her feelings for him. She swallowed thickly as he pulled the plate from her stilled fingers and before she would have been able to form a denial from her lips, her hands were in his own and she was staring up into his smile yet again.

Her head shaking a soft ‘no’ in response to his question as to whether she knew the dance but she paid attention, her eyes widened and a smile tickling against her lips as she watched.-

“I.....think so.”

-she replied haltingly, uncertain as to whether she truly had it or not, but she gave it a shot. Clumsily but she gave it a shot. She did not in fact have it but she continued, giggling as she did. When he pivoted, it threw her off completely and the giggles fell into a full belly laugh. Her nose wrinkling softly as her head tipped back a bit, her hands waved and she stopped moving, still giggling.-

“I told you, I was not coordinated.....”

-she laughed in a breathy declaration.-
 
It was an absolute delight, dancing with her, his heart light and floating as she giggled and stumbled through the steps with him. There was something about her joyful laughter that sang to him deeper than any music or bard's melodious voice could. And he wanted more of it. More of her delight, more of her sunshine and giggling. She was beautiful besides, her smile crinkling her nose and pushing her round cheeks up until her glittering, emerald eyes grew squinty with her embarrassed joy, a blush filling her skin with a bright, burning glow, and her body careening, head tossing her hair back as she shook with pleasured amusement.

A rumbling bout of laughter from Mahon chased hers as she waved him off, suddenly grown still and self-conscious. It made him yearn for more of her freedom but even her modesty and bashfulness were alluring to him. Without even meaning to, his hands were on her, cradling her arms as he beamed down at her, stroking her elbow and her forearm. Unbidden as well, he kissed her, planting three soft smooches upon her lips, each lingering before he finally pulled back.

"When I kill Gammon...I'd like to... If, that is, you want me to--" Mahon's voice cut off and his attention was diverted as the song ended, the laptop grown silent. "The music," he complained with a frown, leaving Mara to go back around the desk to look at the screen, trying to find out where the bard had hurried off to. Once again, he was faced with the frustration of not knowing how to operate the magical device. Pressing his lips together, his brow furrowed with consternation, Mahon swirled his finger on the soft pad he'd watched Mara touch, his finger tapping one of the buttons besides. The screen moved but it seemed content to replay the same song over and a bark of triumph came from him as he gave it a wide-eyed look of delight and the song, "Friends in low places" came out of the laptop again. Pleased by this discovery, although he knew not what he did nor how he did it, Mahon left the laptop to rejoin Mara in the middle of the living space.

"Okay, one more time," he said, giving her an expectant grin, having fully been derailed and distracted from their previous discussion as he gently took her hands again, urging her into place with him for the Lelander dance. "When I swing my feet and we switch spots, it goes again in the same pattern from the beginning," he explained, his eyes bright and green as he held rapt to her and his tone warm and understanding. "You're not uncoordinated. You just haven't done this dance before." As the music swelled bright and high for the chorus, Mahon lifted an eyebrow at her, ready to start. "Ready, m'lady?"
 
-the curve of his lips, the happy squint of his eyes, the rumbling laugh that rattled up from his chest, all so far removed from that cold stare he’d worn earlier, even if only briefly, it still dug at her...except now. Now all she saw was him, happy and laughing along with her and in her laughter she drew in a sharp and shuddering breath, resisting, barely, the urge to cup his face and plant a kiss on him.

It wasn’t long before she felt the tickle of his fingers sliding against her arms, the silk of her robe sleeves accentuating the touch and then his lips pecked against hers, three times and she blinked.-

“Yes.....”

-the word whispered softly from her lips, her eyes bouncing curiously over his features. The single word could have been a question or an agreeable, either way to be honest. Because in that instance, despite her trying to fight it, she’s have likely given in to whatever he wanted.

When his attention was drawn away and toward the silencing of the laptop, she released the breath that seemed to have caught in her chest. Her lips pursing together and her arms crossing against each other, fingers tracing the very spots she could still feel his before she glanced back up at his bark of triumph, a soft laugh escaped her, though she’d decided in that brief space of time that she would not get wrapped up in him again, she would not let his buoyant smile distract her from what she knew.

However as he drew close again and flashed that grin....talk about being derailed. A smile spread across her lips and she let him scoop her hands into his, fingers curling softly against his palms. Her feet shifting into position and she nodded up at him.

It wasn’t like he was taking her back to bed after all. This was ok, right? They were just dancing and enjoying each other’s company. There was nothing wrong with this.

She nodded again and chuckled.-

“Ready....I think.”

-she murmured softly, her fingers flexing unsurely in his grasp but she was ready otherwise.-
 
The dance went smoother a second time around, Mahon's smile a steady occupant on his face, watching Mara move through the steps to the best of her ability. She was lovely, swaying with him, mirroring him, a giggle fresh and ready in her throat. They were mid-pivot, switching places, a purring rumble of satisfaction and encouragement coming from his throat, when he froze, his eyes lifted to look over her shoulder. The smile was gone, and after barely a second, so was Mahon, turning to the hallway, striding towards the washroom.

When he returned, he had half of his armored jerkin on, Claw, still sheathed, grasped in his hand, and an unbalanced, murderous light shining in his gaze. On the tv, there was some sort of news report, the screen flashing between hand held cameras and the scenes that had apparently played out before, to the most recent shots of a handcuffed man being escorted by police into a car by uniformed officers. The scenes that played out before were chaos, not just from the shakiness of the view but also from the black billowing smoke that gushed violently from a southern diner. A man, dressed in black armor, horned headdress, with long cloak and sharp shoulder guards, laughed maniacally in the street. In the second view of him, with police officers hedging him in, he might have been physically subdued, his arms restrained, helm and cloak removed. But the light of malice flared in his black and yellow eyes, a crooked grin bisecting his face with a predatory mischievousness. And other than the eyes, he looked like Mahon, his features slightly more slender, more angular, yet their bone structure the same.

Gammon. Apparently, according to the text under the screen, this strange man had thrown a fit at some diner, several cities away from New Orleans. A couple people had been accosted and a fire had burned the place down but thankfully, nobody had been seriously injured. Before he ducked down into the police car, the Demon Lord cast another sinister look around, a wicked smile breaking his features, full of dreadful laughter before he disappeared into the vehicle.

Gritting his teeth, Mahon gestured with barely restrained fury at the screen as he demanded, "Take me there, Mara. Take me to the place the tv shows." Green eyes seering with passion, he unsheathed Claw, the blade released with a thunderous hiss, ready to face the bloody fight ahead. Finally, his wild, battlelust-filled gaze drifted to Mara and he gave her a baleful frown. "Now."
 
-she stumbled slightly in the confusing moment when she caught the intense stare and the sudden lack of enjoyment and the moment he released her and took off toward the bathroom.

She didn’t linger staring after him but rather she turned and peered into the living room, toward the television and the images blinking rapidly across the screen.

She didn’t need to turn the volume up to get the picture. She saw the name flash in the news bar and her heart dropped into her stomach. Worried hands fell in front of her.

Worry, not only for what this meant in terms of Lafayette, Louisiana’s fate but what it meant for Mahon too. She knew he was going to want to go, immediately. She knew she was going to have to tell him no.

As important as it was to get to Gammon and take care of him, it was also vital that she protect Mahon. Not from his brother of course, she knew he would defeat him. She knew he could. She had created him to. She was certain that their sudden plummet into the real world didn’t change that in the least.

She cringed when she heard his demand from behind her. Her shoulders slumping softly as as drew in and released a steadying breath. At least it was meant to try as she turned to face Mahon. A trepidatious look rested in her green gaze.-

“Moe. I.....No. I can’t. Lafayette is over two hours away first off and second, he’s in police custody because he burned that place down, he tried to kill people. If you go storming into that police station wielding that sword and looking and acting as crazy as your brother.....worst case scenario, they will likely shoot you on sight. No.”

-she shook her head, her brow furrowing deeply. They had to figure something else out. She had already told him they’d have to get Gammon somewhere away from people and that still stood true. Truer than ever by the looks of it on the television. It was a matter of how they were going to be able to do that.-
 
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