Warhammer (CH9) (Patreon)

“There you are.” Morgaine murmured. She’d cupped Eli’s face between her hands, forcing him to look at her. “I knew you’d come back to me.”

He blinked slowly. Once. Twice. Then his pale cheeks gained a pink tint. “Bad.” He rasped.

There was a hint of a smile on Morgaine’s face. Her hands lingered on him before she rose, untying her see-through robe. A pair of black lace lingerie kept her barely decent, but every other line and curve was exposed to his eyes. When her nighty dropped to the floor, pooling around her clawed feet, she reached behind her back, undoing her brassiere.

Eli realized she wouldn’t be turning around as usual. He looked away quickly, staring at a patterned floor tile next to the bath. He made sure he wouldn’t see anything, not even out of the corner of his eye. Still, the sounds of clothes rustling and her soft breathing was enough to give him goosebumps.

“Is the floor so interesting?” Morgaine asked, lowering herself into the water.

“Yes.” Eli said, not trusting himself enough to look at her. “You’d never find such fine craftsmanship in the human world.”

Morgaine hummed. “Perhaps. But there are finer things in here than mere stones. You could see them, if only you dared look.”

Eli finally met her gaze, when she was mostly submerged. He found her staring at him. She was no more expressive than usual, but there was something in those ink-black eyes that seemed gentle. He smiled. It was a weak one, but genuine. “Like I said. You’re bad.”

She sunk lower into the water, draping her arms over the rim. Under the surface, her legs were outstretched, uncaring if they touched his. “Ignore that fool.” She said suddenly. “His opinion is of no value. He understands nothing.”

Eli shook his head. “It’s alright. He still worries, and wants to help. That’s enough for me.”

“No. It is not.” Morgaine said slowly. “For an issue to be resolved, it must first be recognized for what it is. If he is incapable of doing as much, then he is useless.”

Eli sighed. She wasn’t wrong. And yet. “It’s not his problem. He provides for me. And if I ask for a favor, he does it. What more could I want?”

“It is his problem.” She said, her tone brooking no dissent. “Setting his promise aside, this will affect him sooner rather than later.” Her eyes swept Eli’s wounds, mostly gone now, before meeting his own. Her gaze softened. “This is severe, Elias. I know. You don’t have to downplay it.”

He slumped, scattering strands of red hair over the water’s surface. “Thank you.” He murmured. He had a hundred more words to say, but felt he wouldn’t make it all the way through. He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Really.”

“Gods, what’s there to thank me for, Elias?” She asked, sounding a tad upset.

He shook his head. “You’re always trying to help. Even when you tease me… it’s so I’ll think of something else.” He looked away from his reflection, glancing at her. Her eyelashes were very long, and their texture had a softness to it, almost like feathers. “You don’t have to do that. I can-…” He hesitated. He’d almost said he could handle this, but it was too much of a lie. “…endure.” He finished. ‘For now.’

Silence stretched in the bathroom. The silence of many things left unspoken.

“There is no other way.” Morgaine said eventually. “You must tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell.” Eli whispered.

She exhaled slowly. “I won’t pretend to understand your difficulties. And I don’t wish for you to recall what you’d rather forget. But-…” Her lips parted, though she made no sound for a while. “…I do not believe there’s nothing you can say. Start somewhere. Anywhere.”

“Anywhere...” He mumbled. He considered it before giving her a shaky nod.

“Good.” Morgaine said satisfiedly. “But before you do, come sit with me.” She gestured from his side of the bath to hers.

Eli could feel his ears turning red. “I think I’d rather not.”

She raised an eyebrow. Extending an arm, she grabbed a washcloth and laid it across her chest. “Better?”

“That barely covers anything.” He said, feeling his blush creep down to his neck. It was even more arousing now, with how the wet fabric clung to her breasts. If he was being honest with himself, he’d known this wasn’t appropriate. He couldn’t hand-wave it away as fae-weirdness. Being Morgaine’s adopted son—obviously no longer young enough to be innocent—only made things worse. It didn’t matter that she was just teasing him. He should’ve put a stop to it a long time ago.

But he didn’t then, and he wouldn’t now. He enjoyed it. And it made him forget, and forgetting was more than enough reason to ignore the consequences. So, he scooted closer, blushing furiously while mumbling protests he didn’t mean. Until his back almost touched her, and her thighs pressed against the outside of his legs.

“Didn’t the hot water make this more painful?” Morgaine murmured, tracing the torn skin on his back. It had mostly closed up by now.

Eli nodded, fighting off a shiver. “It does, but it’s the good kind. It’s always so cold there-…” His words caught in his throat, memories of the nightmare suddenly resurfacing.

“It’s all right.” She whispered, running her fingers through his hair. “We will stay as long as you want. Until every inch of you has warmed.”

He let out an uneven breath. “I almost don’t want to leave.”

“Then don’t.” She said simply. “The water is kept warm. And I’ll stay with you.” 

Before his courage could fail him, he leaned back, coming into contact with the washcloth. He rested his weight against her. “Then I’ll take advantage of your kindness.” He said a little unevenly. The sensation of her womanly assets was incredible, overwriting the sting from his wounds. Firm yet soft, in a way that made him feel a little lightheaded.

A breath escaped him, sounding entirely wrong to his ears. He covered his mouth. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled through a gap in his fingers. This was already weird, but he’d just made it even weirder.

“For what?” Morgaine asked, putting her chin on his head. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her. One hand was placed against his chest, the other just above his navel.

Eli shut his eyes, trying to somehow cool his boiling blood. Morgaine was dangerously close to discovering just how big of an effect she had on him. “Okay. I think it’s time.” He said suddenly. “I’ll tell you what happened back then.”

She didn’t say anything, giving him a reassuring squeeze.

“I was probably around a year old. A year or two.” He continued, not bothering to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to give himself time to back out. Didn’t want to let himself think about how her body felt. “I remember my dad’s face. He was very pale. Not like himself. Lily was crying. Beatrice too. The twins looked scared.” He drew a breath. “I can’t remember much, but I know I was ill. Very ill. Like I was going to die.”

“I fell asleep. I was in a coma for three weeks. At the end of the third week… I don’t know. Nobody told me and I didn’t really ask. But something happened. I think I-… I’m not sure. When I woke up, my mom was sobbing. Just sobbing uncontrollably. I don’t know if she was scared or relieved. Maybe both. Everyone else—they looked like they’d seen a ghost.”

“It was different after that.” He said. “Not them. They were the same.” He reached for Morgaine’s hand, touching her soft scales. He always liked the feeling. “It was me. I was different. My personality changed. I was smarter. More mature. Other things too. They didn’t question it. They were just happy I was fine. But…”

“You started having nightmares.” Morgaine finished for him.

He took her wrist, turning her hand over so their palms could touch, passing his fingers through hers. “I know you’re a sorceress. A powerful one. That’s why everyone looks at you that way. Like they respect you. Like they’re scared of you.” His gathered his courage, his voice trembling a little. “Tell me, is it possible? Can the dead be brought back to life?”

Morgaine was silent for a long while. There was an aura about her, making her even more unreadable. “No.” She said eventually. “It’s a fool’s errand. A corpse could be reanimated, but life, once lost, is gone. It won’t be-…”

“The same?” Eli finished, his tone grim.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Morgaine said. “You refer to your own changes. But what I speak of is not that. Even if the body was perfectly preserved and traces of magic hidden, flaws would inevitably be exposed. Perhaps such a thing could fool from a distance, but even a mortal would notice the wrongness upon close.” She let her fingers fall, interlocking their hands. “Be at ease.”

Eli exhaled. Then he inhaled. Preparing himself for what he’d say next. What he didn’t want to say. “They asked me.” He said, his voice almost inaudible. “If I wanted to know.” He brought her hand to his face, pressing it against his cheek. “They always ask me. Try to tell me things. I never say yes, because I know they don’t want to help me.” He raised his arm, showing the healed wounds. “Even this. They just don’t want me to die.”

“I said no. I said no. They told me anyway.” His grip on her hand tightened, his voice growing unstable. “It’s like a seed. The seed is sown into the soil. But what sprouts is not a seed, but something else.” His head jerked suddenly, looking up at her. His pupils were enormous, leaving only a thin ring of gold. “I’m changed. You don’t believe me. I know. I hate doing it. But I’ll show you-…”

“Elias.” Morgaine said suddenly. Her other arm went around his shoulders, pressing his head into the crook of her neck. “You don’t need to show me anything. I believe you. How could I not? Your body, and what happens to you at night—it’s not normal. I’m not like some people, so set in my ways as to ignore what I see with my own eyes. Believe me as I believe you.”

He went stiff for a moment. Then he relaxed. He ran his fingers along the feathers on her arm, not even noticing the washcloth had slipped. “I don’t want to use it. It’s not my power.” A choked laugh escaped him. “It’s theirs. As if I would ever trust anything that comes from them. They would never help me.”

“I know you wrote it down.” He said suddenly, his lips close to her ear. “Those scribbles. On the floor. On the walls. The roof.”

“I wanted to help you.” She murmured. “I need to understand.”

His hand suddenly contorted, fingers digging into her back, nails drawing blood. “Burn it.”

“I will.” She said soothingly.

He didn’t even notice her wounds, how he smeared blood across her skin. “I wanted power. That’s why I was always trying so hard to learn sorcery, despite not having any talent. But not this power. Really, Mother, not like this.”

Morgaine was quiet. It was unknown what she was thinking. She simply held his hand, letting him ramble.

“That’s all I’m going to say.” He whispered after a while. His hand went to her shoulder, separating them. He looked up at her. Her face was close. Too close. He blushed, looking away. Looking down.

“Wow.” He said stupidly. Then he shut his eyes, hurriedly turning around. Perky. Plentiful. And perfect. Like every other part of her.

“It must’ve been uncomfortable, sitting like that.” Morgaine said after a while. She held him like before, forcing him to lean against her. She didn’t bother with the inadequate washcloth. “This is better.”

Eli’s breath hitched. Then he cupped some water between his hands, splashing it over his face. He repeated that a few times until he felt… well, not okay, but less wired. Until he could mostly ignore his very hot, very naked stepmother. “I went a little crazy there, but I’m fine. I just need some normal in my life. I’ll have breakfast, then catch up on my studies. Maybe I’ll go outside later.”

“A sound plan.” She said soothingly. “You should join your brother and I. You have provoked him to jealousy, but not yet to diligence. But he will be, sooner or later. He is as his father was.”

Eli snorted. Sometimes, he forgot how Morgaine was with his siblings. “Not the approach I’d take, but what do I know? I’ve never been a parent. In any case, I think Hawke is fine. It’s normal to be unable to sit still for a boy. If classes weren’t a welcome distraction, I’d have disliked them as well.”

“He is not afforded the luxury of being ‘unable to sit still’.” Morgaine said. “If he does not come to understand his position on his own, he will be made to understand. If not by me, then by the world.”

If Eli was being honest, he couldn’t care less about the kingdom’s politics. Not even when it related to his brother. Since the ruling class didn’t take an interest in him, he figured the least he could do was return the favour. Regardless, it was something to talk about.

They chatted for a while, not saying anything of real consequence. It was still early—around nine in the morning. He didn’t spend much time, well, asleep; if his coma-like state could even be called that. He was already awake before the sun peeked over the horizon.

During a lull in their conversation, the doorknob twisted, admitting a familiar elven maiden. It was Nissa. Seeing them so intimately entwined, she paused, but then she shut the door behind her, making her way toward the bath. “…the young master asked after you at breakfast, my Lady.”

“I see.” Morgaine said simply. She took Nissa’s tray with one hand, setting it on the bath’s rim. “I’ll feed you, Elias.”

Eli didn’t need to look to know what Nissa’s expression was like. “No, thank you.” He said. Being spoon-fed by Morgaine was a level of pampering he wasn’t comfortable with. More so, given their audience.

“Some of these dishes might not be to your taste.” Morgaine said matter-of-factly. Not giving him a chance to refuse, she impaled a cut of rare, almost bloody meat on a claw, bringing it to his lips. “Do you trust my judgement?”

He looked at it for a moment before relenting. It was cold and raw, and doused with vinegar, pepper and other herbs. Contrary to expectations, he enjoyed it.

Morgaine must’ve noticed, because she kept it feeding him until all of it was all gone. “The tea, girl.” She said, wiping her hand with the washcloth. She glanced at Nissa, who stood there frozen.

The maid blinked, turning to an engraved, silvery vanity near the wall. She lifted the porcelain teapot off its surface, pouring one cup. Returning, she handed Morgaine. “Madam.”

“And his?” Morgaine asked, raising an eyebrow.

To Nessa’s credit, she didn’t miss a beat. She was there and back in the blink of an eye, handing Eli his tea.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, taking it from her. The scent was like honeysuckle, with a hint of some fruit he couldn’t identify. He was just about to take a sip when he saw something… strange. Something unexpected. Something eerily familiar. Something that made the water suddenly feel ice-cold.

“Wait. Wait a second.” He whispered. Before he knew it, his hand closed around Nissa’s wrist, all but pulling her into the bathtub. “Wait a second. This. This is?” His gaze was fixed on a stretch of exposed skin on her arm. “No sleeves. You usually wear long sleeves. That’s why I didn’t-…” He rambled, sounding like he was talking to himself.

It looked like a scar. Both a scar and a tattoo. A pattern of raised skin, blue or purple, so dark it was almost black. He knew what it was. An eye. And a wheel with eight, uneven spokes. It was too recognizable. It was the fucking eight-pointed-star!

“Fuck. The Source. The Source of magic. The source of dreams. Visions and prophecy. Where the gods dwell. That and everything else. It fits.” He mumbled, uncaring of Nissa’s attempts to free herself. “But how? I can’t use it. I’m not even connected to it. It doesn’t make any sense. And they. They. Why wouldn’t they say anything? Why hide it? I’d find out. I’d-…”

He went silent, realization dawning. He didn’t believe it. But at the same time, he believed it entirely. “It’s not the same. That and this. That’s why nobody knew-... fuck. Fuck!” He released the maid, uncaring of how she tumbled backward, colliding with the vanity. His hands went to his face. “And now this shit too? Shit! What the FUCK is going on?"

There was a buzzing sound in his ears. Like static, or a rushing wind. His head hurt. His gaze snapped upward. He stood. The tray and its contents scattered over the tiles.

“You’re a cultist.” He whispered. His eyes flicked from Nessa’s enraged face to Morrigan. Her own expression was blank, simply staring at him. Waiting. “And you. You’re not going to burn those notes, are you? I had a hunch. But if you’re part of the cult…”

“You need to calm down, Elias.” She said. “I don’t know what you’re thinking. What you think you know. Sit down. Talk with me.”

He laughed. “That’s a confirmation, isn’t it? That you’re involved. Or at least, you knew. And you kept the maid despite that.” His tone was biting.

Morgaine frowned. “What about that mark upsets you so? Though, perhaps it’s best if we discussed it in private-…”

“No.” Eli said decisively. “You’re not going anywhere.” The latter part was directed at the hostile maid, looking like she wanted to carve out his eyeballs on the spot.

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