Dedicated to the player of Karanya, her time sadly consumed by real life.
After two long days’ hiking, Karanya arrived just as the sun began to set. It sent twilight fire turning the mountains gold and red, from their snowy peaks to the granite foot she approached. She knew she had the right place, but had yet to find the way in. This would be her first time visiting her brother’s new sanctum.
She drew back the hood of her indigo cloak, letting her crimson tresses spill forth and curl about her chest. The light better caught her striking, angular face, with soft lips as red as her hair. More importantly, it cleared the view for her icy blue eyes.
Her gaze scanned the space before her. Information and scrying told her this was the place, but she could see only bare, grey rock. At least, that was all she could see with normal sight. So instead she opened her mind to magic, heightening her senses to threads she could divine rather than merely see. On the surface, this mountain’s foot was merely rock, yes. But just beyond she found a hollowed-out space, a tunnel reaching deeper. Protective magics kept her from discerning anything more than its shape, but she traced that back to the surface.
There, an outline — the span of rock which would become the ‘door’, if she could open it.
Karanya let the divination end, her head briefly spinning as it slid back into just her normal senses. She had one main plan for getting inside. With her fingertip, she traced a shape over the door: a sigil which Trigru had taught only to family. In essence, it worked as a ‘key’ to the ‘lock’ he had made on each of his other sanctums.
Yet, she couldn’t be sure it would work here. Trigru had made his new sanctum with the active intent of getting away from the world, after recent events.
The door didn’t open immediately. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t; sometimes the magic took some time to respond, especially for a door that hadn’t opened in months. She found herself holding her breath.
She let it out when the stone rolled aside, grinding with unfamiliar motion as it slid into a slot in the mountainside. Apparently, her visit was welcome after all. The tunnel plunged deep into the mountain, the slope and walls too smooth to be natural. With the door open, she could sense the magic deeper inside. No self-respecting wizard built a home without adding some conveniences.
Down she went, her boots clicking on the stone. The air felt crisp and clear, even as she sank deeper into the subterranean space, though still warmer than outside. Just as the stone closed behind her, she saw the soft light of mystical crystals set into the ceiling, illuminating the way down and into the first real chamber. The room was a perfect circle with a domed ceiling. It was furnished as a mix of living room and dining room, with a fireplace in one wall, lounge chairs around the perimeter, and a round table in the exact centre. At that table stood her host; he must have felt her presence and come from deeper within, just to greet her.
Trigru was still recognisable as her brother. He had the same stature: just a little over six feet, thus almost a full foot taller than Karanya, and with a narrow frame that would be called ‘willowy’ on a woman. He wore a familiar black robe, belted closed at the waist. His hair was still jet-black and thick, pushed messily back to clear his face and form shaggy, hedgehog spikes atop his head. The features of his face hadn’t changed, still narrow and angular, family resemblance making him a fine kind of handsome which complemented her delicate beauty.
But he had changed in immediate, obvious ways. His light skin had become ashen — literally, the grey of paper ashes. His iron-grey eyes had transformed, now-black irises surrounding red pupils which gave off a dim glow, just enough that she could tell. Beyond the visible, the sense of him had changed. The infernal tinged his aura, making him feel almost, but not quite, like the half-demons she’d met in her journeys. He seemed somehow both more human and more demon than they had.
In exchange for her staring, he gave her a wry smile. “I get that a lot.” His voice remained the same, smooth and sonorous. Something else had changed in the way he looked at her, his gaze lingering tightly on her face.
Karanya didn’t blush. Surprise aside, she was too graceful to blush over such a simple mis-step. “So it’s true, then. You’re ... different. What happened?” She touched his cheek, drawing him to look at her. From that close, she could smell him, too: a scent like woodsmoke, like a campfire or a hearth.
He tensed, grown unused to being touched, but not unwilling. His eyes’ glow brightened by a lux or two. “What have you heard?”
She shook her head. “Very little. You clashed with an infernal cult in Greystone, two days’ walk away. You stopped them, but something happened to you. Rose, your companion, only understood that it changed you. You took yourself to this range and disappeared. Cut yourself off from the world.”
Speaking of cutting himself off, Trigru took a step back from her, away from her hand. He closed his eyes. “That cult didn’t go down easily,” he said. “Before we ended them, they finished their rite. They called forth a demon. I won’t say its name. It was a dangerous creature, driven only by its own selfish lust for the human form. It didn’t have a body of its own, and after each host we felled, it simply moved on to the next.”
“You can’t simply slay such a creature,” Karanya said, her eyes widening. She could see where this story would end.
“I couldn’t slay it,” Trigru said. “But I could stop it. I gave it a host I knew I could control, someone who’d take it and its depredations far away from civilisation.”
“That’s why you’re different,” she said, her gaze running over him from head to toe and ultimately resting on his grey face. “Not just from yourself. From any half-demon I’ve ever met. You’re ... more.”
He nodded, eyes still shut. “I wasn’t born as half of each. I’m a complete human and a complete demon, put together and fighting for equilibrium.” His eyes finally opened again. His pupils’ red light shone brighter, glaring as he stared into her eyes. “That’s why it’s dangerous for you to be here.”
The look on his face made her heart skip a beat, though she would show nothing but confidence on her face. She hadn’t become the sorceress she was by fleeing from danger. Her journeys would never have begun if she hadn’t learned to poke at danger with a stick. “I’m not going anywhere,” she insisted. “And you still built your wards to accept the family key. You don’t really want to isolate yourself.”
“Force of habit,” Trigru said. “And a mistake.” He narrowed his eyes at her. The squinting of his eyelids focused the glow of his gaze, making the light sharper. But after a lifetime, he knew her. “There’s no way I can persuade you to leave, is there?”
She met his glowing glare head-on. “No more than you could convince me to stop seeing Jareth.”
“That’s a bad example,” he said. “He ended up breaking your heart.”
She smiled back at him. “That makes it a perfect example. I will make my own choices, and if they turn out to be mistakes, I will live with the responsibility. But there is a simpler, much more practical reason you’re stuck with me.”
He blinked. “What?”
“I have been on the road for two days, and the sun has surely set by now.” She jabbed a finger into his chest. “I am not going back out there without even resting my feet. And you have been a dreadful host.”
He didn’t even move from the poke, but he did sigh. “Fine. You can stay just for tonight. I’ll need some time to make a guest room; I hadn’t built this place expecting company.”
“Take your time,” she said. “I’ll make myself at home.” His cavern’s controlled climate was warm enough for comfort, so she finally unclasped her cloak and let it slide from her shoulders.
The motion caught Trigru’s eye and finally dragged his attention below her face. She wore enough to keep her slender, petite body modest. A light-grey tunic covered her from shoulder to thigh. An underbust, brown leather bodice laced up her front, cinching the tunic tight around her waist. Matching brown leather formed her leggings, boots, and short gloves, as well as the belt holding pouches at her hips. The most risque part was her tunic’s neckline: a deep but narrow V, showing a fair but not extreme amount of cleavage.
Trigru looked at her as if he could see through it all. More than simply undressing her with his eyes, that gaze burned away her clothing and made her feel naked. That was why he’d kept his gaze so strictly on her face: the lusts of his new demon meant that if he looked at her body, he couldn’t take his eyes off it. That part of him no longer cared about petty details like blood relation. He saw the sensuality he could wring from her, and wanted it. His pupils streamed angrily carnal, red light.
She couldn’t think of the last time a man had looked at her with such naked hunger. Not outside of her fantasies. The pure heat made her mouth go dry, but even knowing how it could burn her, it drew her like a moth to a flame. She moved with her usual grace as she put her cloak on a hook. On her way to a lounge chair, each gliding step emphasised the curve at her hip, calling to Trigru’s eyes with the same clarity that her cleavage had. Every glance brought the fire closer to her surface, whether extended from Trigru or rising from her own depths.
Conflict spun her head, her mind oscillating between two thoughts. He was her brother. But he was hotter than all the hells put together. But he was her brother, a man he’d known all her life, a man who’d shared her childhood. But he slammed on switches that she’d never thought would see the light of day.
While she’d whirled, caught up in her own thoughts, she’d finished taking off her boots. Trigru had finally taken his eyes off her, to instead stare at the insides of his eyelids while he whispered under his breath. Some chant or mantra, or perhaps just counting almost-aloud. In some corner of her soul, Karanya felt miffed. She missed the way he looked at her.
That was the deciding factor, the point when she knew she would stir that fire with every poker she could find and see what sparks came out.
She knew the dance of seduction. She stretched forward in her seat, a pose that held her body at a subtly fetching angle, such that he could think it was all his idea to notice it. “It’s silly that only I should get comfortable. You should slip out of that robe.”
Trigru’s demon may not have cared about blood relation, but the man himself tried to keep control. He stared at a wall rather than risk her catching his eye. “That would be ... unwise.”
She caught the significant weight in his tone; he had some specific reason not to remove the robe. Her feet had rested enough, so she glided back over to him. “I’ve never let what’s wise get in the way of what’s fun.” She lay a hand on his chest, just to check.
He drew in a breath on tense reflex, his body shivering with nearly-forgotten sensations. Just as she’d suspected, she felt no sign of further clothing. He was naked under that robe. And his chest ... not bulky, but firm and defined. Why had she never noticed before?
He hadn’t said a word; he couldn’t trust his voice not to moan for a touch like that. He just stood stock still, neither retreating nor approaching.
“You threw this on just for my visit?” she asked. “It makes sense.” A devious smirk played across her lips. “If I isolated myself like this, I know I’d exploit the chance at nudity with nobody around to mind.”
Finally, he moved. His fingers curled around her wrist, the grip iron-strong, but he just held her still instead of pushing her away. “Stop teasing.” His tone hovered between plea and warning.
She drew her gaze up from his chest to lock eyes with him. The red glow of his eyes felt like the heat of a forge, something fit to reshape her. “Make me.” The taunt hearkened back to their childhood.
The next second, her back was against the stone wall, his hand cushioning her head. His glowing eyes bored into her own, as if to melt her with their heat. “I’ll make you stop teasing.” He rocked his hips forwards, using them to pin her. More than the strength of his body, that exposed her to the feeling of his hardness, grinding into her. Even through their clothing, it made her weak in the knees; if he hadn’t held her up with his unrelenting force, she would have sunk to the floor. “I’ll make you satisfy every desire you bring out in me.” Both hands gripped her tunic by the neckline, just above her leather cincher. With a surge of strength, he tore it open. Her breasts, rounded and ample, fell free of confinement. They heaved with her gasping breath. “Do you want that?” His demand was rhetorical.
Karanya’s mind reeled. However much she gasped, the situation still made her breathless. His dominant force incinerated all the layers of her cold mask and forced out a single, honest word. “Yes.” Every sensation solidified the reality of what was happening. More than watching him squirm, she could feel his arousal as it pressed in against her. The kiss of air on her chest made her feel the exposure of her torn clothing – and that, more than the cavern’s comfortable air, perked her rose-red nipples into excited attention. The flames licked all around her, and now that she felt how they scorched, she found she could spend forever in that furnace. “Yes, yes, yes.”
Surprise slowed his momentum. The glow softened in his eyes, the light dimming as Trigru pushed the demon down and reasserted control. Still he stared into her eyes, now probing rather than trying to stare her down. The submission he saw made him blush, the rush of blood purple across his grey cheeks.
His demon and his own lust pushed him to stop thinking and start fucking, but he wouldn’t. Not until he was certain. He rocked his hips, humping softly against her when she really wanted him to claim her to the core. He closed a hand around her breast – and feeling its softness and how she arched into his touch drew his gaze down, drinking in the view of her body.
Every sight, every touch, every show of her enthusiasm chipped away at his doubt. She’d never noticed how solid his body was, never known how forceful and passionate he could be. In the same way, he’d never truly seen her beauty; he’d had no idea of the eager submission waiting under her cool surface. Now he did, and he wanted her.
He wanted her. He made his decision. Wizard and demon reached their accord, and he blurred with motion.
The next thing she knew, the table was under her back, its edge just under her hips. Up and together, her legs pointed towards the ceiling, making a straight path as he struggled with her leggings. Her belt tore and he still only got the tight leather as far as her thighs, but that was enough. The chill of relatively cool air felt especially pronounced on her heated nethers, making her whole body shiver.
The cold didn’t bother her for long. Somewhere in the commotion, Trigru’s robe had unbelted itself and slipped the tiniest bit open. She learned this when he stepped forward and his naked, engorged length rubbed against her entrance. The next shivers down her spine had nothing to do with cold. She barely had a chance to process his touch at her entrance, and then his tip found its path and drove into her.
She hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him between her thighs. Her first experience of his naked manhood was all touch. Its girth spread her walls to stretching; its length scratched her deepest itches. Pleasure scorched away most of her mind, leaving just enough to think one word: ‘perfect’.
Perfection didn’t end with his fit inside her. Each thrust came rougher than the last, jolting through her entire body such that she jostled on the table. The bounce of her breasts caught his eye, and his hands soon wrapped around them, greedily groping her. He crushed into her, shoulders set to her calves and folding her legs inward, testing how flexibly she could bend while her half-on pants kept her legs tight together. His sheer presence overwhelmed her — above her, inside her, upon her, all around her, as if his closeness could consume her the way a furnace consumed fuel.
Everything he did to her whirled through her mind. Every thrust made her gasp, every squeeze made her arch her back, every push made her stretch. And through it all, that all-encompassing control tied it together as the thread which bound her underneath him.
They were in a cave, sunk deep into the earth; the nearest civilisation was two days away. As climax claimed her, she howled with such energetic pleasure, she was sure they heard her. Everything was bliss. His deep, thick motion was bliss. The smoky heat of his breath on her face was bliss. Even the discomfort of her position was its own bliss, given how he’d shoved, force, drawn her into it. Soon came his release, and not even ‘bliss’ could describe that. His body writhed, out of control of everything but the lust which she had inspired. The geyser volume of his seed rushed into her and made her whole, her yearning form completed by that physical sign of his pleasure. She wasn’t sure if his orgasm extended hers, triggered a second, or if her sheer joy in service simply felt like orgasm.
They passed a few minutes just breathing together, hearts still racing. As afterglow lit her from the inside, she grew more certain she’d done as she aught; she just regretted not doing it sooner. But as the ecstatic haze lifted from Trigru’s eyes, as the demonic glow softened into dimness, he saw the situation in a different light. Mortification paled his face. He’d just grabbed his sister, torn her clothes, pinned her to a table—
She reached past her ankles, grabbed him by the face, and pulled him down into the tightest, most heartfelt kiss of her life. She tried to share some of that breathless, melting heat he’d given her. After, she looked deep into his eyes. The red-in-black colours suited him, she decided. “If you do this to me, I would happily be your slave. I would serve you in every way I could. Like those collared folk in distant Mina, I would be your property.”
Her kiss left him with his mouth hanging open; her speech made his eyes gleam with desire. His head rested against hers, too close for them to lock eyes but close enough to fill her senses with his heat, with that woodsmoke scent. “That is a bold declaration.” He kissed across her face and onto her ear. “Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”
His deep voice slid into her ear with a tone of danger and promise that made her tremble. “I know you won’t just take my word for it,” she said. “So let’s try just for tonight.” She smiled. “I’m only here the one night until I’m back on the road, right? We’d better make it count.”
Make it count. The thought made him stir inside her, hunger flashing again into his eyes. But though the flesh was as willing as the spirit, he didn’t immediately take advantage. Instead, his hands drew to her leggings. “First, there is no way this is comfortable.” He peeled them up and off, finally freeing her legs.
At first she stretched them out, getting rid of some of the kinks around her knees and thighs. But then she wrapped her legs about his hips. Her heels pressed in from behind, keeping him rooted firmly within her. “Much better.”
More than the sensation, the open invitation made him tense, gasping with desire. For a second, it seemed he would control himself, would be a disappointingly good boy. But he remembered his position. Even if just for the night, if he wanted her, he could have her. Such a relationship strayed so far from anything they had before, it took some warming before he thought to act on it. His first thrusts were almost ponderous, especially compared to the first, frenzied fuck. Even that soon had them both gasping, both writhing in perfect sync. Rather than incinerating them in a flash-fire, it steadily warmed through them.
That slower pace left them more attention to enjoy details beyond the rutting. Karanya pushed his robe farther open, until it finally fell from his shoulders and let her probe the body underneath. Except where made purple by the flush of excited blood, Trigru’s skin was all uniform grey, and every inch was flawless and smooth. She ran her gloved hands over his chest, feeling the supple perfection of his skin and the firmness of his muscles. How had she never noticed how well he’d built himself? Her delight in that enhanced her pleasure, but it was a drop in the ocean of how good it felt to have him claim her.
Though his hands still enjoyed her breasts, they didn’t sit idle. Instead he took inspiration from her and stripped her the rest of the way. It went slowly; their sex jostled her body and made his hands shake with sensation, and her clothes could have been simpler. As he unlaced and opened her cincher, she felt her body relax better, sinking into the serenity of his service. Her tunic followed, drawn over her head. Though he’d already taken everything significant, that was still her first time being naked before him. The look of awe in his eyes, and the harder, more energetic following thrusts, sent a sense of bliss through her. Taking her gloves proved hardest of all, not least because she didn’t want to stop touching him long enough for him to get it done.
He ultimately let her keep them, that last bit of leather, but didn’t let her keep touching him. He turned frustration into aggression and pinned her wrists above her head, using his strength and weight to hold them to the table. Reflex fought against him for a split-second, but she gave herself to his pressure. Her body was his to pose as he wanted, and his taking that authority felt almost as good as the way he drove into her — harder and faster now, his momentum like a carriage with a runaway horse. He towered over her, his chest against her breasts, his breath tickling her face, his eyes boring into her own.
Even held down like that, she could act, could show how much she loved what he did to her. Her hips rocked up off the table to take every thrust; her legs squeezed to bring him in closer. They shared hot, swift kisses — she lost track of who started each one. All that mattered was how good they felt.