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Chapter Twelve Filia felt like she was going to lose her mind, if she hadn't already. Ever since Xellos had trapped her in the storeroom almost two weeks prior, at least one of her three housemates were underfoot every time she turned around. For Jillas, being underfoot turned out to be a literal condition, and it happened often enough that Filia had finally let him have it, which only sent Jillas running off, wailing. Valgaav had lost his temper, yelling at her for upsetting Jillas, and Filia's nerves were rubbed raw enough that she happily got into a shouting match with him. That resulted in Gravos having to actually take on the role of peacemaker and separate them before the shouting match escalated into anything more destructive. Filia had started to walk away from that argument until she overheard Valgaav mutter under his breath, wondering if dragon females were as susceptible to monthly mood swings as humans. The unpainted, dried pitcher she'd been carrying was instantly airborne. Valgaav had very active reflexes, she discovered. It took two days for Jillas to quit following Filia around meekly like a whipped puppy trying to earn favor again, for Valgaav and Filia to quit glaring at each other, and for Gravos to happily abandon the peacekeeper position he'd found himself stuck with unwillingly. It hadn't taken Filia long to discover that the only place where they didn't try to follow her was into the washroom. Not long after that, she also discovered long, hot baths at the end of each day were the perfect remedy for her tired shoulders, sore feet, stiff back, and frayed nerves. And any baka, hentai namagomi who tried to intrude on her while she was in the tub would be a very dead namagomi very quickly. It didn't help matters one bit that Valgaav's interest in her -- if he even had any to start with -- appeared to have waned. While he was still the most persistent of her three shadows, the tender displays of affection, even as rare as they had been, appeared to have come to a screeching halt. Filia didn't want to admit to it, but it hurt, especially because she couldn't quite figure out why. If it was because of what she had said, well, she had tried to correct that the day before last, he had quickly excused himself with obscure muttering over things he had to go do. Filia didn't know what else to try. The idea of a romantic liaison still felt foreign to her. The priests and priestesses were expected to remain chaste and pure, not letting carnal longings interfere with their service. If they were mated, it was because the elders had voted to allow it, and a similarly worthy dragon of the opposite sex would then be chosen as well, the pairing arranged. Such a mating of convenience allowed for new generations of dragons while curbing lustful urges. Of course, these were the same elders, for the most part, who had chosen to, and even participated in the destruction of Valgaav's people. The Supreme Elder himself had thrown her away like...namagomi. Raw garbage. They were wrong about that, and perhaps wrong that the longings she felt were base and sinful. As she would think back to the kiss, Filia couldn't see how something so tender and caring could possibly be wrong. She wasn't a priestess anymore. There was no one of her sect left, no shrine. Indeed, she had been cast aside by them as well. Still, it was hard, wrestling against the guilt borne from several centuries of having such strict dogma pounded into her brain. Filia would work it out on her own time, she decided, and deal with it when it became an issue. She dared not speak of it to Valgaav, for no other reason than not wanting to mention her sect, or the elders, to him if at all avoidable. Finished with her nightly, relaxing bath, Filia pulled her robe over her nightgown, tightening the sash before removing the towel which had held her long hair out of the water. Opening the door, she half-expected to trip over one of them as usual, and to her relief, the hallway was clear. As she walked to her room, she overheard voices in the kitchen, and stealthily crept closer, eavesdropping. "We are not going to tell her," Valgaav was saying, and Filia frowned. Tell her what? "It will just upset her and make her worse than she is." Worse than I am? Filia growled under her breath. Well, I never! "Uh, beggin' pardon and all that, Lord Valgaav, but truth be told, I can't quite figure how she can be worse than she already is." Filia instantly had cheerful mental visuals of her mace being introduced to Gravos. "I have to agree with Boss, Lord Valgaav," Jillas said, and Filia blinked. Her faithful little fox-man was agreeing? Of all the nerve! She'd been the very soul of understanding and tolerance ever since they all became secondary shadows. Jillas was still speaking. "Telling her what's going on might make her a little easier to keep an eye on." "And besides, if ya don't," Gravos said, "I might gotta play at keepin' everything peaceable-like here again, and me keepin' the peace? Ain't natural, if I do say so myself." Filia heard Valgaav chuckle softly. "Point there. But I'm still not convinced telling her's the right thing to do. I don't want to scare her." Filia had heard quite enough. "Well, you don't have a say in this anymore," Filia announced, stepping through the doorway. All three of them jumped guiltily and looked at her. "How long have you been there?" Valgaav demanded. "Long enough. So what's this big secret you boys are keeping? Hmm?" She crossed her arms, tapping her slippered foot on the floor as she fixed them all with a glare. They all immediately began to fidget, looking elsewhere. "Does every female got that ability for that look no matter the species?" Gravos asked Valgaav quietly. "Apparently," Valgaav muttered, scratching the back of his head as he studied the floor. "Look, Filia--" "Don't you 'look' me, mister!" "Umm, oneesan, you have to understand--" "The only thing I have to understand is what you're all hiding from me." Her foot continued tapping, her glare never faltering. "Out with it. Now." They all looked at each other, then both Gravos and Jillas looked at Valgaav. "Uhh..." Gravos said, eyeing him. "Well..." Jillas gave Valgaav a facial shrug. He looked to the two of them again, then sighed in exasperation. "Oh, all right! I'll do it. Happy?" he asked them. The relief of the two servants was palpable as they quickly evacuated the kitchen. "I'm waiting," Filia said once they were alone, her tone a warning rattle. "Filia, you're in more danger here than even I'm in," Valgaav said, looking her squarely in the eye. Filia blinked. "What are you talking about?" "Xellos. He's avoiding confronting me, but he's going after you." Filia's arms remained crossed, but they tightened around herself in a miniature hug. "What do you mean?" "Look at the evidence," Valgaav said, walking up to her. "He knows exactly where I am." "How do you know?" "Both times he's been here, each time he's left just prior to my arrival. The second time was, in your own words, less than a minute." "That doesn't mean anything..." "You were there when he told me his orders before," Valgaav reminded her, and Filia fought down a little shudder at the memory. That had not been an easy day. "Either get me to join forces with the Mazoku, and if he couldn't, then kill me. I'm not Mazoku anymore, and he's not trying to kill me." "So?" she asked, leaning on the doorframe. "So, he hasn't used any powers, has he?" he asked, walking up to her. "Well, he teleports..." "That's just our -- I mean, their -- way of traveling. I was to Lord Gaav what Xellos is to Beastmaster. While Gaav was fairly liberal with permission where I was concerned, I couldn't use any of the powers I got from him if he said not to. That's that. If Xellos is avoiding a fight with me, and by all evidence, he hasn't done anything involving his powers here, then it's pretty damn likely Beastmaster removed that order." "Where do I fit into this?" Filia asked. "He's interested in you, and that's never a good thing with the Mazoku. I think he might be trying to use you to get to me." Filia looked up at him out of the corner of her eye. "Why would he do that?" "Because he can." "I mean, does it get to you?" Valgaav blinked, looking at her incredulously. "Filia, you have to actually ask that?" "Well..." "Hell, yes, it gets to me!" She flinched a bit as his volume increased, and Valgaav grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to turn and face him completely. "You three are the only -- let me reiterate that so maybe it'll get through your head this time -- the only individuals on the face of this entire godforsaken planet I trust!" His grip on her upper arms was almost painfully strong. "I am not going to lose anyone else, do you hear me?" Filia nodded stiffly, staring up at him. "Good." Abruptly, he released her arms and stalked away across the kitchen, raking a hand through his hair. Valgaav swore under his breath, then looked at her. "You mind just telling me what the hell gave you the idea that it might not 'get to me'?" "You've been avoiding me," she whispered. Valgaav blinked, just staring at her, his expression completely perplexed. "Uh...huh? Say what? Obviously, we don't buy our logic at the same market," he told her, then added under his breath, "maybe even not the same planet." "I don't mean like that, it's just, well, like the other day..." "What about the other day?" "Are you just not interested anymore? I tried to undo what I'd said that night..." Valgaav was quiet for a moment. "That's what this is about?" "Well, yes..." He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples as he slowly walked back to Filia. Feeling nervous, she drew back slightly, pressing against the doorframe as she watched. "You want the truth?" he asked, and mutely, she nodded. "Truth is, I'm scared if I do anything, he'll come after you again." Filia's eyes widened, and she looked up at him. Valgaav looked away to the floor, his voice softening. "I don't want him to get any idea of just how important you are to me." Filia bit her bottom lip, feeling guilty. "I didn't realize..." Valgaav studied her for a moment, then sighed, pulling her close to hug her tightly. Filia closed her eyes, relaxing against him as she returned the hug. "Why now?" she whispered. "Hmm?" "Why are you holding me now? He could be watching, somehow." Valgaav was silent for a moment, then held her tighter. "The hell with him, then. I didn't realize till just now how much I've wanted to do this." Filia felt him press his lips against the top of her head before resting his cheek against it. "Are you still scared?" he whispered after a moment. Filia hesitated. "Yes," she admitted. She felt, rather than heard, him sigh as he started to let go of her. "All right," he said. Filia tightened her grip, not letting him pull away as she looked up at him. Valgaav arched an eyebrow curiously as he met her eyes. "But to paraphrase you," she said quietly, "the hell with it." His confused expression remained for a few moments, then a small, slow smile formed on his lips. "Yeah?" "Yeah," Filia whispered back, returning the smile. She gave a quick, startled laugh as he suddenly pulled her back into the hug, even tighter than before. Before she could reciprocate in kind, she was released. Valgaav kept one arm around her, freeing his other hand to rest against her cheek, brushing it softly with the pad of his thumb. "We'll be okay, Filia," he whispered. She blushed slightly, but gave him a lopsided smile, moving her hands up to rest against his chest. "I don't know," she admitted, "personally, I was kind of hoping to aim a little higher than 'okay'." He grinned broadly. "That, too." Filia smiled shyly as she gazed up at him, and his grin softened to the wee, little smile. That smile did such strange things to her, like turn her bones to water and make her heart skip a beat, or five. As he lowered his lips closer to hers, Filia closed her eyes in anticipation, feeling curiously dizzy and breathless already. She felt his hair brushing lightly against her cheek as he drew nearer. "Is everything okay then, Lord Valgaav?" Both of them jumped at the sound of Gravos' voice, and Filia turned from the doorway, blushing furiously. "Yes, Gravos, everything's just fine." Valgaav's tone was impatient, frustrated, and annoyed. "Oh, good. We didn't hear any yelling' or things breakin', and were worried maybe one of ya killed the other." She could hear the grin in his voice, and blushed even more, her entire face feeling like it was on fire. "Ain't the case, I guess." Filia pulled out of Valgaav's grip and hurried for the other door, nearer to the shop. "Filia, wait!" Valgaav's tone was slightly startled, but she didn't stop until she was in the dark, cool solitude of the store, and covered her face with her hands. She kept telling herself that there was no reason to feel guilty, ashamed, or even shy. There was nothing wanton about her behavior, nothing wrong with kissing him. She... yes, she did love him. And he did care about her in turn. That didn't make contradicting centuries of teachings any easier. "Filia?" Valgaav asked quietly from the doorway. She looked up to him, drawing in a deep breath. "I'm sorry," they both said at once, then paused, and began to chuckle quietly. "Tact isn't one of Gravos' stronger points," Valgaav continued, walking up to her. "Are you all right?" "Yes, just...flustered, I guess." She looked down at her hands. "It's just that...all my life, I've been taught that this is sinful." "What is? Kissing?" She could hear the surprise in his voice. Filia nodded. "Not just that, anything that involves, um..." She paused and stammered. "Anything carnal," she said, sotto voce. "And kissing is carnal?" "Well, it...it leads to other things." Filia wasn't sure how she could blush any more than she already was and not melt into a little puddle. "It's...um, we were taught that, uh... urges like this, they were...not appropriate." Valgaav snorted in annoyance. "Then they were even bigger fools than I first thought they were, and that's sayin' a hell of a lot." He closed the distance between them and gripped her shoulders gently, making her turn to face him. "Filia, there's nothing wrong with this, or feeling like this. It's normal." She kept her eyes shut, unable to look at him, feeling extremely bashful as she nodded. He stroked her hair back from her forehead softly. "We'll just have to work on that, then." He pulled away from her, walking across the shop to the counter, moving behind it to light a lamp. Filia took a few moments to compose herself before turning to face him, watching as he started straightening up the stack of paper they used to take orders and write up sales. "How does it feel to be caught up on the debts?" he asked, changing the subject. "Wonderful," Filia replied, grateful for a new topic as she walked over. "And now that Gravos is forging weaponry, we're pulling in even more. Of course, the profits still aren't very high, after the cost of supplies, but..." "But we're making it." She studied him as he moved away, walking over to her workstation. "I've watched you at work here, you know." Valgaav looked over to her. "It still amazes me a bit, how fast this thing will spin, and how it just looks almost like you hold your hands over it and it magically takes shape." "It's hardly magic," she replied, grinning at him. "It's fairly simple, once you get the hang of it." "It's the getting the hang of it part that's not," he replied. "Teacups are pretty advanced, but a vase is easy." Filia crossed her arms, looking at him. "Want me to teach you?" "Only if you promise not to laugh at the misshapen lump I'm likely to create?" he asked, grinning over at her. "Have a little more faith in my teaching skills." Filia walked over to the work area, and picked up a bucket from the corner. "Go fill this with water. I'll get out the clay." Fifteen minutes later, Valgaav was sitting on the bench, getting the hang of turning the pottery wheel with his feet. After he dunked his hands in water, Filia wet some clay and put it on the center. "Now what?" he asked, eyeing the spinning lump. "Well, first, you need to hollow it out. Put one hand on the side, and put your fist in the middle." He did as she instructed, gradually making a depression in the clay, and as she instructed him, started to coax the sides up higher, shaping the vase. The first part of it was always easy, but Filia noticed that as the need for control and skill increased, he became more hesitant. Rolling up the sleeves of her robe, she wet her own hands, placing them over his to help guide his fingers over the clay. She sat down close beside him, one arm under his, reaching out to rest over his opposite hand. Eventually, she stopped talking, her motions a better teacher than her words as their fingers interlaced, working together, caressing each other. It grew increasingly difficult to concentrate on what she was doing, the sound of her own pulse in her ears as her heart picked up the pace was distracting, as was his nearness. It was a relief when she saw the short, round vase was finally smooth and symmetrical, and linked her fingers around his carefully to pull his hands away. "It's done," she whispered. He didn't say anything, but she felt him looking at her as he moved his hands under hers, rubbing his clay-slick fingers between her own. Filia turned her head slightly, meeting his gaze, and his hands turned into fists, gently gripping her fingers, and leaned in closer, kissing her. It was different than the first. Still tender, but stronger, almost demanding, and it took the air right out of her lungs as her heart stopped. As she responded, returning the kiss, he released her fingers and moved his hands over hers, rubbing the back of them, his fingertips grazing at her pulse points on her wrists with such a light touch, she shivered. At that little reaction, the kiss deepened. She felt his tongue brush against her lips as his own coaxed hers apart, and she moaned under her breath involuntarily at the invasion of her mouth. His hands gripped hers now, the pressure steady and mild. Everything within her felt molten and liquified, and her heart fluttered rapidly. By the time he drew back from the kiss, Filia couldn't tell up from down. Her head was spinning from the sensation of having her entire world reduced down to just the two of them, and opened her eyes, dazed. Valgaav was watching her expression intently, then gave her a small grin, breathless and slightly unsteady, before leaning closer again, resting his cheek against hers, nuzzling her softly. Filia closed her eyes, leaning against him as he brought their hand down to rest on the now-stationary wheel table. "Let's go wash the clay off," he whispered in her ear. "I'm having a hard time remembering not to touch you and ruin your robe." She nodded, nuzzling him lightly. "All right," she replied quietly. "I'll move the vase over to the drying table." "How long before it's ready to fire?" "Depends on you. Do you want to paint it?" He gave her a tiny grin. "Depends on you. You wanna teach me?" Filia blushed, but smiled up at him. "Of course. In that case, tomorrow, I'll cast a spell over that one with the others I did earlier today to hasten the drying process, and once its done, I'll show you how to paint and glaze the vase before we fire it." Filia stood, and very carefully removed the vase from the wheel, holding it up to inspect it, and grinned at him. "Your very first vase," she announced. "Good job!" Valgaav shook his head, watching her. "No, not mine." Filia looked at him curiously. "Ours." The expression in his eyes was so fondly possessive that Filia's knees immediately went weak, threatening not to support her for much longer. Swallowing hard, trying to shove her fluttering heart back down into her chest where it belonged, she managed a tiny, breathless smile and quickly put the vase down on the table with the other finished pieces. Standing, he took her hand and pulled her closer for another kiss, both strong and gentle, only breaking it when he released his hands, stopping himself just in time before he put his arms around her. "Let's go wash off the clay, huh?" he whispered, chuckling. With a small smile, she nodded, and took his hand, walking with him from the shop. |
to be continued...
Chapter Thirteen