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Note to Readers: This had a delay not so much due to lack of muse as lack of time this time around. My Slayers site has been moved to a new domain. Please update your links and bookmarks and point them toward slayers.fanficnetwork.com, thanks! Chapter Nine "Boss!" Jillas scampered after the taller beast, whose strides had lengthened. "Wait!" Gravos paused and turned around, looking at him. "What?" "You can't go," Jillas said, catching up with him, grabbing his arm. Gravos jerked it away. "Oh, yeah? Watch me." "You can't!" Jillas bit his tongue. He couldn't say too much. "You don't seriously expect me to stay there at that house after...that!" Gravos snapped, pointing back in the direction of the shop. "Boss, please..." Jillas frantically sought for something to say. "You owe him." Gravos' eye narrowed. "I owe who what?" "Lord Valgaav. He told us to stay, he told us to take care of her." He just snorted in annoyance. "He didn't know she'd be fallin' over that--" "Which is why she needs now more than ever!" Jillas shot back. "Listen, do you trust me?" "Huh?" "Do you?" "What're ya talkin' about? Of course I do, it's just that two-timin' little--" "Then stay." Jillas shook his head. "It's okay to hate her. It's probably for the better. But you can't go." "You ain't makin' any sense, ya screwy fox." "I know. I'm not making sense to me either, but what in this whole mess does make sense?" Gravos looked away, crossing his arms. "The most important thing to remember is that Lord Valgaav wanted us to stay. We owe him that much. We owe him our lives. If he wanted us to spend our lives here, then that's what we need to do." Gravos shook his head. "I need to get away, I don't know how much more I can take. She was even sleepin' with him this mornin' on the couch when I got up!" "Then we'll go away for a little bit. She wants an ox for the crops in the spring, and I've heard that there's some for sale in the next town. We can go there." "I don't know why I'm doin' this." "It's the right thing to do. Besides, I still need you." "So leave." "I can't. I'm making something." "Another one of yer damned inventions?" "Something like that. I need you to forge the oven for it." "What're you talkin' about?" Jillas glanced around, then beckoned for Gravos to follow him, walking to the shed. "It's in here." He unlatched the door and opened it wide. Dim sunlight filtered in through the small window, and any light from the doorway was obscured as Gravos hunkered down his huge bulk to fit inside. "What is it? Looks like some kinda wagon." "It is. I need to make it so a fire will keep going in it but not burn anything up." "Yer gettin' nuttier by the day," Gravos said. "Whadd'a need a transportable fire for?" Jillas thought over his possible answers, then smirked faintly. "That," he said, "is a secret." "Thank you for shopping at Vases and Maces," Filia said, handing over the sales slip to her customer. "We hope to see you here again." The miniature sleigh bells on the door's ribbon chimed as it opened and shut, leaving her in peace and quiet once more. "Getting back into your old routine seems to have done wonders for your constitution," Xellos said. Filia almost jumped at the sudden voice behind her, and bit back a snarl. "Must you do that?" "Do what?" he asked innocently, hopping up to sit on the counter. "Sneak up on me!" "It's hardly my fault you're so jumpy." Filia glowered at him. "What do you want?" "Now here I thought we were getting along." Xellos grinned cheerfully. "I was going to offer my services to help you replace the pottery you broke before I left. So, what can I do?" "I don't know. Is there anything you can do?" Immediately, Filia raised her hand, forestalling any reply. "Never mind, don't answer that. Why don't you tend to the counter while I'm working on the pottery?" "Why don't you teach me how to make things?" Filia looked at him. "I'd prefer to have full creative control over my products, thank you." "But you were teaching him." Xellos sounded almost petulant. "And we both know how that turned out," she retorted. Satisfied she shut him up, Filia picked up her water bucket. "See to the customers. I'll get back to work." She cut through the kitchen to get to the water pump, and looked over to the shed, seeing Gravos and Jillas. She hung her head as she primed the pump, not wanting to see the looks on their faces. She couldn't cry -- she wouldn't cry. Everything was going exactly as she intended, and she couldn't complain about it. And the sooner she got herself back on a more steady keel, the sooner Xellos would believe she could be left alone. "Ma'am?" Ma'am. Not oneesan. Filia drew in a steadying breath and looked to Jillas. "Yes?" "If you don't have any complaints, Gravos and me were going to head out in the morning for the next town." Filia grew still, leaning on the pump, and the water gushing out slowed to a trickle. She closed her eyes, resting her head on her arms. "If you wish." They were leaving? They couldn't. Who would she turn to when it was time? "There's some livestock for sale, I've heard. We'll pick out an ox." Hope began to nudge through the fatigue, and she looked up at Jillas. "Spring planting and all. Like you wanted." A tentative half-smile tugged at her mouth for a moment. "All right. Be sure and find a hardy one." "We will." "Thank you." Filia picked up the full bucket, pouring out some of the excess, and returned to the shop. "What did your little fox want?" Xellos asked, watching her as she sat down at the wheel. Filia dropped a ball of clay on the center and wet her hands. "Jillas and Gravos will be departing tomorrow. There's some livestock for sale in a nearby town, and an ox would come in handy for crops next year." He made an amused sound. "Once a prim-and-proper priestess, now a merchant and farmer. Such a drastic change, hmm?" "I do what I have to do to survive," Filia replied. "It's all anyone can really do." She set the wheel to spinning, cupping her hands around the small bit of clay, coaxing it into a teacup. "You certain shall at that, Miss Filia." He reappeared at her side. "No Mazoku would dare intrude here now." "Except you," came the saucy retort. She glanced up at him. Xellos smirked. "Well met, Miss Filia. You certainly seem to be getting your old spirit back." "There's no use in worrying over things out of my control." "Indeed, nor any use worrying over anything I deem insignificant." "I'd rather decide for myself what's insignificant or not." "Perhaps someday, when you are of a more stable mind," he replied, "as well as capable of making informed and sound decisions, none of which are the case at this time." Filia bit her tongue, glaring at the innocent teacup. "I suppose you might make a good argument," she gritted out. "Such a temper, little Dragon," Xellos purred, reaching out to toy with a lock of her hair. "You deliberately try to upset me." "I suppose I do." He sounded far too cheerful, and she bit back a growl. "But no harm, no foul. Just recall your place." "Oh, I'll remember it, all right," Filia said dryly, curving her fingers around the spinning cup. "Really now, Miss Filia." He brushed the back of his gloved hand against her cheek with a butterfly-soft touch. "Am I really all that bad?" The question caught her off-guard, and she looked up to him, startled. "You're a Mazoku," she answered lamely after a few moments of stammering. "And?" "And Mazoku are evil..." "We're back to that old song and dance, I see." "You're denying it?" "Of course not, Miss Filia. Don't be ridiculous." Filia completely forgot about the teacup as she squinted at him. "I've had some bizarre conversations with you in the past, Mr. Xellos, but this one is rapidly moving up into the top five list." "Whatever do you mean?" "First you imply that you're not evil, now you're confirming you are." "I was merely asking if you really found my company all that unpleasant, and confirming that I was a Mazoku, Miss Filia. You really shouldn't make such wild assumptions." "Which brings us back to Mazoku being creatures of pure evil." "I wouldn't say that, Miss Filia." "What would you say then?" "We're merely chaotic beings." "And chaos isn't evil?" "Is life?" "Come again?" "Surely you must be aware of the chaotic force of life." He cracked one eye open. "Birth and death, such a messy, uncertain process, and everything in between." Filia just watched him, at a loss for words. "So, I'll ask you again. Am I really all that bad as you'd like to imagine?" "You're trying to confuse me," she stammered. "Am I? Or are you merely confusing yourself, clinging to a tired old dogma taught by hypocrites? You try so hard to cling to your hatred of me. I wonder, are you clinging for fear of falling?" "What are you trying to say?" "There's a very thin line between love and hate, wouldn't you say?" "Of course not! They're polar opposites!" "And where is the line between the degree of passion for each of them?" "It's like the difference between pure evil and pure good. They're both extremes but nothing alike." "Do you hate me?" "I..." Filia frowned, swallowing hard. His fingertips brushed her neck, and she shivered. But as much as she wanted it to be a shiver of revulsion... "If it's not hatred fueling the passion, what is it, Miss Filia?" he whispered. "Mazoku cannot love," she replied weakly, struggling to grip fast to that knowledge. "Can't they?" "Are you saying otherwise?" Xellos smirked, running his fingers through her hair, and leaned closer until he was just a breath away from touching her, his lips dangerously near. Filia swallowed hard, staring into his open eyes as the room started to feel as though it were spinning. Somewhere, logical thought screamed at her to pull away, but it was drowned over the roar of her own pulse. But just as she thought he was going to kiss her... "Sore wa himitsu desu," he whispered, then straightened, pulling away. His eyes closed and his expression returned to its normal, cheerful façade. Before she could react, the door chimed merrily and he turned away to greet the customer. It took all the willpower in existence to stop herself from crying when she realized she was disappointed. She had wanted him to kiss her. It was maddening. Jillas and Gravos had been gone for nearly a week by the time Filia was almost ready to believe she had only imagined that Xellos had been toying at the notion of kissing her. Although they were alone in the house daily, his conduct was impeccable. The subtle, teasing touches were gone, and his manner toward her was friendly, yet businesslike. Purely platonic. The first few days, Filia had been wary, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Surely he was attempting to catch her off guard. That would have been quite what she'd come to expect of him. She started to think that it was merely an act for the benefit of her servants, and it would resume once they returned. She was wrong. Eventually, she began wishing that he would do something, and found herself striving to set him up, to lure him into treating her as had, to make her pulse race and her head spin. Always, always after that, after her realization on what she was doing, Filia had to struggle against the nausea. What was she doing? She loved Valgaav, with all her heart, and she would continue to love him until the end of time. Filia studied her face in the mirror, searching desperately for some sort of sign that she wasn't falling into her own trap. Whenever she tried to picture his face, she saw a different one instead, one framed by silky-soft violet hair. A sharp, throbbing ache of a loneliness so intense it overwhelmed her echoed low inside. Yes, she still loved him, and she missed him more with each breath. But the pleasant days of fall were over, and winter's icy grip was beginning to snake over the land. It was growing nearer and nearer for the time when she would have to lay the egg, and Xellos could not be aware, let alone present. Everything would have been in vain if he were. Yet he showed no indication of wanting to leave. Maybe the ball had fallen into her court. Perhaps he would no longer feel he had to watch over her like a hawk would a mouse if she could make him think that she had forgotten about Valgaav. The worst part was knowing that on some level deep inside, she wanted to do what she would have to do. Filia could only pray that she didn't lose herself so much that she forgot her mission and her goal. Please, Cephied, give me strength. "Are you warm enough?" Filia startled slightly and looked into the mirror again, her eyes refocusing on a face somewhere behind her, still visible in the pale dying light of a late wintery afternoon. "I'm... I am a bit cold," she admitted. The setting sun had robbed the room of its meager warmth, and no fireplace was located in the bedroom. He walked up behind her, snagging a blanket from a chest on his way. "Here. You really should take better care of your health, Miss Filia. I would not wish to see you ill." When he draped the blanket over her shoulders, Filia mustered up her courage and stood, turning to face him. "A blanket would help," she agreed quietly, and stepped around the vanity stool, approaching him slowly, gripping the edges of the woven fabric in her hands. "But even a blanket can only do so much to provide warmth." Under the shadows of his bangs, Filia caught a glimmer of amethyst as one eye opened, watching her intently. She swallowed hard, nervously, and stepped closer. He said not a word, and made no move in her direction. Shy, nervous, apprehensive, scared -- Filia placed a trembling hand against his chest, bracing herself as she moved to perch on her toes, leaning closer. Ever so faintly, the slightest hint of a smirk tugged one corner of his mouth. For that brief heartbeat, the fear was almost overwhelming, and so was the urge to flee. But it wasn't strong enough to counter the knowledge of what had to be done, fueled by the denied desire. Before she lost her nerve, she pressed her lips to his. His lips were cool and dry, devoid of the warmth one would expect to find in an apparently living being. It only served to remind her that he wasn't like any other creature. But it was too late to back down now. When he made no attempt to kiss her back, Filia's resolve began to crumple around the unexpected pain inside. She drew back slowly, trying desperately to fight the twinge of rejection. "This is a surprise, Miss Filia," Xellos murmured, his voice low and even. She stammered out some vague attempt at an apology, ducking her head, pulling away, cheeks afire. Then he gripped her, preventing her from leaving, his touch that of gentle steel. Filia started to look at him, and was pulled firmly against his body before she could blink. His mouth covered hers, and an involuntary moan rose up inside at the sudden, dominant intensity of it. "What do you want?" he whispered, keeping his lips to hers. Filia struggled to gather up the breath and courage for the words. "Stay with me tonight." The hand rubbing her back went still briefly, and the one in her hair clenched a tighter fist around the tresses, pulling her against him fiercely as he kissed her with an almost violent intensity. "So glad to see you have come to understand that you are mine, Miss Filia," he purred against her lips. And that night, somewhere deep inside, a little piece of her heart shattered and went numb. |
to be continued...
Chapter Ten