Second Sight
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,807
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
13
Views:
1,807
Reviews:
9
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
In the Night
Title: Second Sight
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", An Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse/rape, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Always on my LJ first. MakaiKitty. Stop by. Say hi!
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length
Second Sight
Book II in the Eye of the Beholder Series
Chapter Eleven: In the Night
The wind howled outside, the storm raging on for the third night in a row, and the branches of the old tree beside the house were scraping against the roof as they danced about in the tempest that nature had created around them. Rain splattered against the window panes and thunder rumbled in the distance, growing closer with every passing second. Lightening occasionally lit the sky, making it seem as though morning had come early. Someone was playing the radio in the main room, but the gentle sounds of music were not nearly strong enough to block out the sounds of the storm.
He moved restlessly in his bed, the covers pulled tight around his slender frame, and tried to find some comfort in the soft folds of fabric and feathers. He told himself, over and over in his sleep-deprived mind, that his people were of the land and that he had nothing to fear from a storm. Then a crack of thunder shook the very foundations of the home and he all but jumped out of bed.
A chuckle sounded from the doorway and he leapt from bed and spun around to face the noise, his pale cheeks coloring with shame and embarrassment, his eyes refusing to meet with those of the newcomer.
“Something the matter?” the man in the doorway asked. He was tall and well muscled, with dark hair hanging down past his waist in a thick wave, crimson eyes bright and amused, shining strangely in the near darkness. He carried his head held high and his shoulders back, strong and confident, the sort of man who was afraid of nothing. Certainly not a storm.
“Everything’s fine,” he lied, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “You just startled me, that’s all.”
“Don’t worry,” his smile, full of fondness even though it was clearly mocking, could be seen from the door, the tips of his fangs glinting ominously in the sudden light provided by yet other flash of lightening, “I’ll stay with you ‘til it’s over.”
He wanted to say no, that he was old enough to sleep by himself and that he didn’t need anyone to comfort him for fear of a storm, especially not him, but he couldn’t seem to make the words fall from his lips. He wanted to be strong, to appear every bit as confident as the other male was, but somehow he found himself being willingly lead back to his bed and tucked securely beneath the blankets once more. Strong arms held him tight, the warm breath on the back of his neck more comforting than he would have ever guessed, and soon the sleep that had eluded him all night began to tug at the edges of his consciousness.
Then a crack of thunder hit so close to the home that it rattled the windows and made him go stiff in his protector’s arms, save for the trembling that moved him so subtlety that it wouldn’t have been noticed had the other man not held him so tightly or so close.
“Shhh,” he whispered, as though to clam a frightened animal, “I’m here. You’re safe.”
And, as the arms around him tightened to an almost painful hold, he wanted desperately to believe that he was safe. That nothing could harm him here in the safety of this embrace. It was so very easy to believe. For a moment, anyway.
“This world is divided into the strong and the weak,” he heard him say, quietly but with such strength to his deep voice that he could easily be heard over the roaring of the wind, “You’re only frightened now because you are weak and you know it.”
Again he wanted to deny what was said, but as it often was when he was in the presence of the older man, he could do nothing but listen and take what was given.
“But I’m strong,” the feeling of hands sliding beneath his nightshirt, calloused fingers finding all of the spots that made him twist and writhe with practiced ease, were not at all unexpected. It was only a surprise that they had been idle this long. “And I’m here for you. Here to keep you safe,” the last was whispered against the pointed tip of his ear before it was bitten with a stinging sharpness that had become all too familiar as of late, “I’m here to make you strong.”
***
He woke panting and covered in a thick layer of sweat despite the sudden coolness of the night air. It had been so long since those dreams, no, he reminded himself, those memories had plagued his sleep that he had thought them gone forever.
“Foolish,” he told himself, meaning so many things, both related to the dream and not. His eyes traveled, seemingly of their own volition, searching and finding the shadow on the other side of the small camp that he had been looking for. The reason that, he suspected, the dreams had come after so long. “Foolish and pathetic.”
He rolled over, away from temptation, and closed his eyes with a forced sense of finality. It was in vein though, he knew, for sleep would not come again. And for that, he was grateful.
***
The next morning two sets of eyes, both redder and less sharp than they should have been after a peaceful night around a campfire in the fresh air, met wearily over breakfast. Neither man could quite bring themselves to maintain eye contact for very long, and soon both Liam and Jasim were carefully inspecting the contents of their morning meals instead of looking at anyone in particular, least of all each other.
Breakfast was finished quickly and the men all made to pack away their supplies and ready their animals. Liam was quiet and sullen as he packed away his supplies and made to saddle his stead, and everyone present had the good sense to stay away from him as he worked, even Jasim. There was an air of menace about the man, a tenseness to his shoulders and an exaggerated inflexibility to his posture, which spoke of more than just a poor night’s sleep. Had he been of a mind to notice, Liam would have been grateful for the consideration. Or, he might have laughed at their caution, although it surely would not have been a pleasant sound.
***
For once Liam did not set a hard pace, and the quietness of the morning stretched on throughout the day, the easy clip-clop of the animal’s hooves and the crunching of the gravely stones of the road the only sound, save for the occasional hushed sounds from the Paaragorian guards. They kept to themselves, as they had during breakfast, and made a point of avoiding Liam. One of the guards had made to approach him about midday, just before they planned to stop for lunch, but one look at the terkarian had stilled his tongue before he’d even begun.
Lunch was as breakfast had been, quiet and tense. Liam sat at the base of a tree a few yards away from the rest of their party, and the others were intelligent enough to stay well clear of him, no one brave enough to attempt asking what was bothered the daemon. The men talked amongst themselves and by the time he had finished his noon-day meal Liam was actually relaxed enough to let the quiet mummers of the soldiers sooth him as the sounds reached his ears, not paying attention to what was being said but letting the voices mix with the sounds of the forest to bring him back to some semblance of the easy state of mind that he had gained on the journey to Paaragora. Then he looked up, saw Jasim studying him pensively from across the encampment, and all thoughts of relaxation fled him once again.
Jasim watched Liam for some time, a smile curving his lips ever so slightly when he noticed the haste with which Liam looked away when he saw that he was being watched, and then he decided that he’d behaved himself for long enough. He hadn’t exactly been in the mood to talk either when first he’d awakened, and so he’d honored the unspoken request for solitude when he’d looked into Liam’s eyes that morning, but he’d spent the day trying his best to be quiet and unobtrusive, and it was not something that he was accustomed to doing. It was wearing on his nerves every bit as badly as Liam’s moodiness seemed to be weighing upon the men of his father’s guard.
He stood up from the patch of grass that he’d been resting upon, brushed a few stray bits of leaf from his trousers, and started walking towards his target. He half expected Liam to bolt when the man noticed that he was coming, and Jasim suspected that it was only a warrior’s pride that kept him securely rooted to the ground. The thought would have made Jasim smile, but he worried that to do that would surely set the man off. He wouldn’t admit it to the other daemon, but he’d rather enjoyed their talk by the fireside the previous evening, he hadn’t talked down to him or treated him as either a nuisance or a chore like he was used to being treated, and deep down Jasim knew that the reason they had lost that compatible comfort was due almost entirely to his own doing. Sometimes though, he really couldn’t help himself.
“Mind if I sit down,” Jasim asked, taking a seat beside Liam before he’d even had a chance to respond. It didn’t matter anyway, he would have taken a spot beside him even if he’d been told not to, and he suspected that they both knew it.
Neither man said anything for some time, Jasim hoping that Liam might speak first, Liam praying that Jasim would give up and go away if he didn’t engage him. Neither got what he wanted, and soon Jasim found himself trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or desperate and wouldn’t upset Liam any more than he already seemed to be.
“At least the weather’s behaving,” Jasim finally said, mentally smacking himself for saying something so clichéd. Normally he had no trouble talking, as his father would surely attest, but Liam seemed to have a very strange effect on him. “I was worried that we’d have storms or something. I don’t think I’d be very good at riding in a downpour.”
“You’ll do fine,” Liam felt obliged to say, more to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after Jasim’s statement than to agree or disagree.
Jasim tried to engage Liam in conversation a few more times, but it became like pulling teeth to even get a few syllables out of the man, and soon Jasim found his temper rising. He was doing his best to apologize for misbehaving the night before, for having obviously crossed some invisible boundary that Liam did not want crossed, but if they couldn’t start up a simple conversation about the weather or their trip then how was he supposed to get around to saying that he was sorry, he wondered. He tried one last time, and when Liam didn’t even answer him he gave an indignant huff and got quickly to his feet.
“Fine, I know when I’m not wanted,” he tried to sound flippant, but for some reason he felt more than a little hurt. At the moment, however, he didn’t care to think over much on why that was.
Liam was content to let the boy go, because honestly he didn’t have the slightest idea what to say to him or why the other daemon left him tongue-tied and confused, but then Jasim spoke again and Liam couldn’t hold his tongue.
“I’m sure that someone wants my company if you don’t,” Jasim said without turning around, already heading back to the circle of guards, “Karsten never seems to mind if I prattle on.”
“Karsten,” Liam snapped, suddenly disgusted by the whole situation, “Do you have any idea what that bastard thinks of you?”
“Actually,” Jasim replied, doing his best to keep his head high and his voice even. The truth was he didn’t have any higher an opinion of the man than Liam did, but he didn’t need Liam to know that. “Yes, I do.”
“And still you’d go to him,” Liam was dumfounded, he couldn’t get his mind around the very idea, “Still you do what you did last night with him?”
“At least he’s honest with me,” Jasim started back for the encampment once again, “I know where I stand with him, and he’s never pushed me away. At least, not ‘til he’s done with me. It’s a nice arrangement. You should try it sometime.”
“Fine,” Liam sighed, suddenly angry with everyone; with Jasim, Karsten, and himself. “It’s not like its any concern of mine.”
“Oh really,” Jasim shot back over his shoulder.
“Yes, really,” Liam should have thought the conversation foolish and childish, but instead he felt his pale cheeks heating as his temper rose, “Do what you want. You’re no concern of mine, save that I get you back to Trovilla in once piece.”
“I see,” Jasim said, not willing to face Liam any longer, not willing to question the sudden tightness in his chest or the dryness of his throat as he spoke, “Then it seems I know where I stand with you too.”
TBC ...
Author: MakaiKitty
Rating: NC-17 (overall)
Category: Original Fantasy, "Strings of Fate" storyline, Direct sequel to "Perceived Perceptions", An Eye of the Beholder Book
Pairing: Liam/Jasim, Tamall/Danne, Others
Warnings: Slash, M/M, Anal, Oral, Daemon Sex, Blood-play, BDSM, Violence, Mentions of past child abuse/rape, Angst, Language, Death
Distribution: My website, My LJ and any LJs I choose to post at, AFF.net, and FicWad. All of my accounts are under the user name MakaiKitty. If you'd like to use it just let me know.
Disclaimer: The characters, daemon realms, and situations in this story are all original and belong solely to MakaiKitty. Please don't steal, borrow, take, or otherwise use anything from my fics.
Updates: Always on my LJ first. MakaiKitty. Stop by. Say hi!
Status: Work In Progress/Novel Length
The wind howled outside, the storm raging on for the third night in a row, and the branches of the old tree beside the house were scraping against the roof as they danced about in the tempest that nature had created around them. Rain splattered against the window panes and thunder rumbled in the distance, growing closer with every passing second. Lightening occasionally lit the sky, making it seem as though morning had come early. Someone was playing the radio in the main room, but the gentle sounds of music were not nearly strong enough to block out the sounds of the storm.
He moved restlessly in his bed, the covers pulled tight around his slender frame, and tried to find some comfort in the soft folds of fabric and feathers. He told himself, over and over in his sleep-deprived mind, that his people were of the land and that he had nothing to fear from a storm. Then a crack of thunder shook the very foundations of the home and he all but jumped out of bed.
A chuckle sounded from the doorway and he leapt from bed and spun around to face the noise, his pale cheeks coloring with shame and embarrassment, his eyes refusing to meet with those of the newcomer.
“Something the matter?” the man in the doorway asked. He was tall and well muscled, with dark hair hanging down past his waist in a thick wave, crimson eyes bright and amused, shining strangely in the near darkness. He carried his head held high and his shoulders back, strong and confident, the sort of man who was afraid of nothing. Certainly not a storm.
“Everything’s fine,” he lied, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “You just startled me, that’s all.”
“Don’t worry,” his smile, full of fondness even though it was clearly mocking, could be seen from the door, the tips of his fangs glinting ominously in the sudden light provided by yet other flash of lightening, “I’ll stay with you ‘til it’s over.”
He wanted to say no, that he was old enough to sleep by himself and that he didn’t need anyone to comfort him for fear of a storm, especially not him, but he couldn’t seem to make the words fall from his lips. He wanted to be strong, to appear every bit as confident as the other male was, but somehow he found himself being willingly lead back to his bed and tucked securely beneath the blankets once more. Strong arms held him tight, the warm breath on the back of his neck more comforting than he would have ever guessed, and soon the sleep that had eluded him all night began to tug at the edges of his consciousness.
Then a crack of thunder hit so close to the home that it rattled the windows and made him go stiff in his protector’s arms, save for the trembling that moved him so subtlety that it wouldn’t have been noticed had the other man not held him so tightly or so close.
“Shhh,” he whispered, as though to clam a frightened animal, “I’m here. You’re safe.”
And, as the arms around him tightened to an almost painful hold, he wanted desperately to believe that he was safe. That nothing could harm him here in the safety of this embrace. It was so very easy to believe. For a moment, anyway.
“This world is divided into the strong and the weak,” he heard him say, quietly but with such strength to his deep voice that he could easily be heard over the roaring of the wind, “You’re only frightened now because you are weak and you know it.”
Again he wanted to deny what was said, but as it often was when he was in the presence of the older man, he could do nothing but listen and take what was given.
“But I’m strong,” the feeling of hands sliding beneath his nightshirt, calloused fingers finding all of the spots that made him twist and writhe with practiced ease, were not at all unexpected. It was only a surprise that they had been idle this long. “And I’m here for you. Here to keep you safe,” the last was whispered against the pointed tip of his ear before it was bitten with a stinging sharpness that had become all too familiar as of late, “I’m here to make you strong.”
He woke panting and covered in a thick layer of sweat despite the sudden coolness of the night air. It had been so long since those dreams, no, he reminded himself, those memories had plagued his sleep that he had thought them gone forever.
“Foolish,” he told himself, meaning so many things, both related to the dream and not. His eyes traveled, seemingly of their own volition, searching and finding the shadow on the other side of the small camp that he had been looking for. The reason that, he suspected, the dreams had come after so long. “Foolish and pathetic.”
He rolled over, away from temptation, and closed his eyes with a forced sense of finality. It was in vein though, he knew, for sleep would not come again. And for that, he was grateful.
The next morning two sets of eyes, both redder and less sharp than they should have been after a peaceful night around a campfire in the fresh air, met wearily over breakfast. Neither man could quite bring themselves to maintain eye contact for very long, and soon both Liam and Jasim were carefully inspecting the contents of their morning meals instead of looking at anyone in particular, least of all each other.
Breakfast was finished quickly and the men all made to pack away their supplies and ready their animals. Liam was quiet and sullen as he packed away his supplies and made to saddle his stead, and everyone present had the good sense to stay away from him as he worked, even Jasim. There was an air of menace about the man, a tenseness to his shoulders and an exaggerated inflexibility to his posture, which spoke of more than just a poor night’s sleep. Had he been of a mind to notice, Liam would have been grateful for the consideration. Or, he might have laughed at their caution, although it surely would not have been a pleasant sound.
For once Liam did not set a hard pace, and the quietness of the morning stretched on throughout the day, the easy clip-clop of the animal’s hooves and the crunching of the gravely stones of the road the only sound, save for the occasional hushed sounds from the Paaragorian guards. They kept to themselves, as they had during breakfast, and made a point of avoiding Liam. One of the guards had made to approach him about midday, just before they planned to stop for lunch, but one look at the terkarian had stilled his tongue before he’d even begun.
Lunch was as breakfast had been, quiet and tense. Liam sat at the base of a tree a few yards away from the rest of their party, and the others were intelligent enough to stay well clear of him, no one brave enough to attempt asking what was bothered the daemon. The men talked amongst themselves and by the time he had finished his noon-day meal Liam was actually relaxed enough to let the quiet mummers of the soldiers sooth him as the sounds reached his ears, not paying attention to what was being said but letting the voices mix with the sounds of the forest to bring him back to some semblance of the easy state of mind that he had gained on the journey to Paaragora. Then he looked up, saw Jasim studying him pensively from across the encampment, and all thoughts of relaxation fled him once again.
Jasim watched Liam for some time, a smile curving his lips ever so slightly when he noticed the haste with which Liam looked away when he saw that he was being watched, and then he decided that he’d behaved himself for long enough. He hadn’t exactly been in the mood to talk either when first he’d awakened, and so he’d honored the unspoken request for solitude when he’d looked into Liam’s eyes that morning, but he’d spent the day trying his best to be quiet and unobtrusive, and it was not something that he was accustomed to doing. It was wearing on his nerves every bit as badly as Liam’s moodiness seemed to be weighing upon the men of his father’s guard.
He stood up from the patch of grass that he’d been resting upon, brushed a few stray bits of leaf from his trousers, and started walking towards his target. He half expected Liam to bolt when the man noticed that he was coming, and Jasim suspected that it was only a warrior’s pride that kept him securely rooted to the ground. The thought would have made Jasim smile, but he worried that to do that would surely set the man off. He wouldn’t admit it to the other daemon, but he’d rather enjoyed their talk by the fireside the previous evening, he hadn’t talked down to him or treated him as either a nuisance or a chore like he was used to being treated, and deep down Jasim knew that the reason they had lost that compatible comfort was due almost entirely to his own doing. Sometimes though, he really couldn’t help himself.
“Mind if I sit down,” Jasim asked, taking a seat beside Liam before he’d even had a chance to respond. It didn’t matter anyway, he would have taken a spot beside him even if he’d been told not to, and he suspected that they both knew it.
Neither man said anything for some time, Jasim hoping that Liam might speak first, Liam praying that Jasim would give up and go away if he didn’t engage him. Neither got what he wanted, and soon Jasim found himself trying to think of something to say that wouldn’t sound stupid or desperate and wouldn’t upset Liam any more than he already seemed to be.
“At least the weather’s behaving,” Jasim finally said, mentally smacking himself for saying something so clichéd. Normally he had no trouble talking, as his father would surely attest, but Liam seemed to have a very strange effect on him. “I was worried that we’d have storms or something. I don’t think I’d be very good at riding in a downpour.”
“You’ll do fine,” Liam felt obliged to say, more to break the uncomfortable silence that had fallen after Jasim’s statement than to agree or disagree.
Jasim tried to engage Liam in conversation a few more times, but it became like pulling teeth to even get a few syllables out of the man, and soon Jasim found his temper rising. He was doing his best to apologize for misbehaving the night before, for having obviously crossed some invisible boundary that Liam did not want crossed, but if they couldn’t start up a simple conversation about the weather or their trip then how was he supposed to get around to saying that he was sorry, he wondered. He tried one last time, and when Liam didn’t even answer him he gave an indignant huff and got quickly to his feet.
“Fine, I know when I’m not wanted,” he tried to sound flippant, but for some reason he felt more than a little hurt. At the moment, however, he didn’t care to think over much on why that was.
Liam was content to let the boy go, because honestly he didn’t have the slightest idea what to say to him or why the other daemon left him tongue-tied and confused, but then Jasim spoke again and Liam couldn’t hold his tongue.
“I’m sure that someone wants my company if you don’t,” Jasim said without turning around, already heading back to the circle of guards, “Karsten never seems to mind if I prattle on.”
“Karsten,” Liam snapped, suddenly disgusted by the whole situation, “Do you have any idea what that bastard thinks of you?”
“Actually,” Jasim replied, doing his best to keep his head high and his voice even. The truth was he didn’t have any higher an opinion of the man than Liam did, but he didn’t need Liam to know that. “Yes, I do.”
“And still you’d go to him,” Liam was dumfounded, he couldn’t get his mind around the very idea, “Still you do what you did last night with him?”
“At least he’s honest with me,” Jasim started back for the encampment once again, “I know where I stand with him, and he’s never pushed me away. At least, not ‘til he’s done with me. It’s a nice arrangement. You should try it sometime.”
“Fine,” Liam sighed, suddenly angry with everyone; with Jasim, Karsten, and himself. “It’s not like its any concern of mine.”
“Oh really,” Jasim shot back over his shoulder.
“Yes, really,” Liam should have thought the conversation foolish and childish, but instead he felt his pale cheeks heating as his temper rose, “Do what you want. You’re no concern of mine, save that I get you back to Trovilla in once piece.”
“I see,” Jasim said, not willing to face Liam any longer, not willing to question the sudden tightness in his chest or the dryness of his throat as he spoke, “Then it seems I know where I stand with you too.”
TBC ...