Written Wonderland

Evan was pissed that the goddess kept walking without talking to him, but he held his tongue for the time being. Anxiety bubbled within him the whole way, though, uncertainty rising about where the goddess was leading him or why. He almost started to wonder if she even wanted him with her, but he thought back to her velvety voice instructing him to come, and he relaxed, if only slightly.

She finally answered, and Evan narrowed his eyes, preparing to call bullshit. She cried out before he found words, though, and Evan watched in terror as she sloughed against the wall with a sob. Worry and fear once again swam above his anger, and he dashed around in front of her, trying desperately to meet her gaze, to somehow tell her with nothing but his eyes that he was here to help.

He was briefly hopeful when the goddess met his gaze, her eyes watery and vulnerable again. Oh, it pricked again at his fear, but somehow, he felt more confident now--more sure that he could handle whatever it was behind the hurt in her eyes. But, she moved past him quickly, resuming her cold silence as they started walking again. Evan grunted to express his frustration, but followed.

He met her gaze evenly after she sat down, and he set a hand on his hip, standing defiantly of something. He scoffed when the goddess said he might as well get out of his clothes--like hell he was stripping in front of her like this, no matter how uncomfortable the waterlogged fabric was on his skin. He glared at her, irritated that she'd already turned her attention to a fucking plant. He was formulating how precisely he wanted to ask her what the fuck gives? when she returned her gaze to him and surprised him with an answer.

"I spoke with your commander. And Captain Fujiwara."

Hearing Yukiko's surname from the goddess' mouth was fucking chilling, and Evan's stomach sank deep towards the floor. The way the goddess glared at him after solidified that this was indeed about Yukiko, and after the initial awkward shock of it, Evan got defensive, and refreshed his own glare. He very nearly lashed out, fully intending to say something he knew was likely to hurt, but he caught himself. He probably wouldn't have, if he didn't have this alternative so readily at hand, but he was grateful he had it.

"Ponderance knew," he said as his expression softened, and he reached into his pocket to wrap his hand around the horse, though he didn't pull it out just yet. "That you were hurt. He told us."

Maybe it was cowardly to change the subject like that, but it also felt important. He fidgeted briefly with the horse in his pocket, some part of him debating holding it back as a bargaining chip of some sort--after all, with the help Raccoon had provided, surely they could suffice for the show of good faith they'd intended the horse to be? But, he couldn't do it. She deserved to know.

The captain swallowed and pulled the horse out, presenting it to the goddess in his open palm.

"He asked us to give this to you. The commander agreed."

His expression was serious again, trying to convey the gravity that this wasn't something Ponderance and Evan had snuck in on their own. That was the difference between Raccoon and the toy horse, in this sense--Raccoon was no one's offering but their own tonight, whereas this horse all but came from the commander herself. Evan prayed he hadn't picked the wrong moment to deliver it.

The goddess' brows deepened in a furrow as she glared at Evan. He wasn't following her directions. Did he think she wanted to touch him while he was wet, clammy, and dripping? She was freezing herself.

When he spoke Ponderance's name, her frustration turned to confusion. What did her son have anything to do with anything?

She didn't like the idea that Evan--and perhaps the whole army--knew what Ponderance was to her. But maybe not.

And he had known? How?

Hadn't she said herself not to underestimate him?

Evan then pulled out a wooden toy horse that looked vaguely familiar. Yes, she did think she had seen it in the tent with Ponderance, and now Evan was holding it out to her--on behalf of the commander.

What the hell? What did any of this have to do with Yukiko? Was Evan just dodging?

But he was holding the horse in an open palm like he intended for her to take it. Rolling her eyes somewhat, she got up from the chaise and walked over to Evan, growing more curious than frustrated as she did so. Looking at Evan and nodding gently in thanks, the goddess gingerly took the horse in her hands, trying to understand why Ponderance would go to so much trouble to get this to her.

She could feel her own magic on it--from the shimmering dome she had erected over the camp--he must have purposefully enchanted the toy to collect it. But why? After rolling it around in her hands, she noticed the runes carved on one side and immediately knew it for what it was.

A communication device.

Did Evan know what its purpose was? If not, she wasn't about to have him leverage that against her as well. She glanced at Evan to see if he might have expectations, but she could not read him. Instead, she took the horse and turned to set it up on the dividing wall, figuring she could deal with that later. She had nothing to say to Ponderance now.

"So kind of you all to allow such a thing," the goddess said with heavy sarcasm, settling back into the cushions. After a moment, though, the melancholy in her chest would not let her stop there. She brought her fingertips to her forehead and shook her head lightly, unsure of the path forward. She was still angry and confused and tired and... jealous, but... did any of that matter right now?

Quietly, so quietly she wasn't sure that Evan would hear her, she said, "Please. Please don't make me wait anymore." She closed her eyes tightly shut then, trying to hold all the pieces of her fractured self together. And, with one final draw of power out of the amulet, she pulled it over her head and set it next to the horse on the dividing wall, giving Evan one last pleading look.

Despite her facial expression, she couldn't help making one more quip, "Don't think you're off the hook."

Evan's shoulders prickled when the goddess rolled her eyes, worried that she was somehow reading this as a slight. When she stood, though, he felt embarrassment on his cheeks, recognizing that perhaps it had been awkward to just present something to her while she was seated like that. He hadn't quite expected her to take it just yet, though--he almost closed his fingers around the horse reflexively, remembering that he'd had a notion to report in to Mizu using that horse. Now seemed like a terrible time to do that, though. He relaxed as the goddess approached, curiosity starting to alight in her eyes. He resolved that it would be all right if he didn't report in with the horse--he'd be going back in the morning, especially since Raccoon had come through tonight, and could make his report then. There wasn't anything they needed to know tonight.

So, that was his duty, then. He'd tossed Raccoon a line, and he'd delivered the horse on behalf of Ponderance and the commander. He'd told the goddess of the volunteers coming tomorrow, and insofar as he could tell, that had gone over all right. There was nothing else he had to accomplish for the rebellion tonight. His only business left now truly was between himself and the goddess, and he sighed with deep relief, not realizing how external the expression would be.

He rolled his eyes to the goddess when she gave him sarcasm about the horse. He played through possible ways to snap back at her about it--that Mizu had agreed to that was not any small thing--but the goddess shook her head, touching her fingertips to her brow like she had a headache. The motion stirred Evan's worry again--was she recovered from what had happened? Would she truly be all right?

He heard a soft please tumble from her lips, and more syllables that were too soft to make out. Evan's expression softened with surprise, and he searched for what she was asking; he doubted that she'd be so tender about him stripping, but maybe there were other reasons she wanted his clothes off. Gods, he hoped so. Fuck, yes, he wanted their chests to touch, their fingers and nails to rake over backs, their teeth to sink into each other, and he suddenly felt hopeful that she wanted all that too. First step towards that was indeed taking his fucking clothes off.

The captain finally reached back to start pulling his shirt over his head. He paused briefly when the goddess made a comment about him not being off the hook, and he started to toss her a glare, but her expression was still pleading, and like hell he was going to bring Yukiko back into this when he didn't have to. Evan finished pulling his shirt off and shivered, skin suddenly feeling real fucking vulnerable out in the open air. He studied the goddess as he deposited his shirt behind him, and started to unbutton his pants. He weighed his options for banter--he could ask about hunting, or what else they needed to do before he went to the Underworld, or whether she was really all right--but ultimately nothing felt worth saying. Instead he just let his desire for her bloom again in his body, his eyes locked with hers as he slid his underwear over his swollen cock and let it fall with his pants to his boots. He often lamented this point of practicality, but smoothly enough knelt down then to start unlacing his boots, hungry for the approaching moment when he could cast the rest of his clothing aside and lunge for the goddess' touch.

The goddess thought that Evan might continue to draw this out and was preparing a backup plan when he finally did reach for the bottom of his shirt. She exhaled heavily, grateful that maybe, at last, she would feel his skin. Her face grew eager with anticipation as he reached for the buttons on his pants, and she had a flash to when Evan had been on his knees outside the ceremony circle, stroking himself for her. Why hadn't she just taken him then?

Because he's freezing.

She raised her fingers to her lips to obscure her excitement as it spread across her mouth. The goddess shifted forward from her seat against the wall and lay on her stomach facing Evan, crossing her legs at her ankles. She looked almost girlishly at him as he pulled his pants and underwear down and again revealed his swollen cock. Then, she took the liberty to sink into his mind, pulling up the memories of how he had withheld his climax for her. She looked through memories of standing in front of a crowd of volunteers, giving them a speech while his cock ached to return to her. She looked through him standing in front of his commander and another captain, how he had tangled with Xavier--the staccato thrusts sending blades of desire through Evan's entire body--his groans and gruffly muffled shouts at having to pull away from the satiated boy, the captain's eagerness to stroke himself the morning after he woke, and the sudden realization of what that would take away from the goddess.

Perhaps it was time to collect.

Yes, yes, yes, the goddess thought, her craving plain in her eyes and an inviting eyebrow.

((OOC: I do think that Evan would be able to sense her pulling up his memories, at least to some degree. Also, Dehaljadrun just wants to say that she does feel some jealously about Xavier, but she feels like she succeeded in making it difficult for the two of them and doesn't really want to think about the jealously directly right now.))

Evan saw a flicker of excitement spread across the goddess' lips before she raised her hand to hide it, and he grinned, elation washing through him. Gods, it felt good to see that in her again, to know she was relishing him at long last, and he was now free to enjoy it. His mind poured through memories of the long, tantalizing day that he'd had, and when he saw the craving plain in the goddess' eyes, he figured she might well have something to do with the vividness of his recall, and the way each new thought so thoroughly warmed his body.

His own hunger was plain in his sharp, silver-blue eyes as he watched her, but he stood slowly once he'd unlaced and loosened his boots, his self-restraint evident in the way that muscles visibly tensed throughout his body as he moved. He did need to lean back down to let his hands help his legs escape from his heavy wet pants and the boots that clung to them, but with how painstakingly slow he was going, he managed to do so somewhat gracefully.

He looked at the goddess from a standing position once more after he stepped out of his second boot and discarded his waterlogged socks by his shirt. He felt something warm drip down his hip to his thigh, and he looked down at himself in confusion--shit, his cut really was bleeding, the throb of it only now resurfacing in his awareness above the throb of his desire. He pressed his index and middle finger into the small stream of blood, and then returned his gaze to the goddess with a raised eyebrow and a subtle smirk. It didn't hurt too badly, all things considered, and it wasn't bleeding enough to worry him, at least at the moment. As far as he was concerned, what happened next was largely up to how the goddess felt about blood on the cushions in her palace.

Though Dehaljadrun had clocked the bandaged area on Evan's side--a remnant from the cut he had given them both--she hadn't given it much thought until he stood up from throwing his boots aside and a trickle of blood escaped the reddening bandage. The urge to heal it abruptly struck her--she didn't feel like being gentle with him by any means--but did she need to?

The goddess looked scrupulously at Evan, running over his mind and his body to gather information. He seemed to be asking for permission to engage rather than asking her to do the healing he knew was possible. And, she couldn't deny that she would surely enjoy the taste of his blood.

Yes, perhaps she just needed to trust him and all the cues he was giving.

Thoroughly tired of how far Evan was from her, Dehaljadrun gathered herself up from the chaise again and walked over to him, getting close, though not close enough to touch, before slowly kneeling before him. She moved her lips to the place where the lowest part of his blood had trickled, and she took some of it onto her tongue, eager to taste him in every possible way.

After she had licked the blood trail to the bandage, she gingerly pulled at the wrapping and delicately pulled it off to reveal the stitches some other human must have helped Evan with. Gods, what it must be like to not begin healing immediately.

The goddess kissed the area just above the wound and then stood to her full height again, running her tongue along the inside of her mouth to roll the bitter metallic taste of him around as her eyes dared him to act.

Excitement immediately boiled in Evan's gut when the goddess rose to her feet and began to approach. He couldn't help his smile widening, nor his body subtly undulating towards the goddess as she knelt down before him. His cock throbbed for attention, but truthfully, he was glad when the goddess' tongue collected the trickle of blood on his thigh instead. It lit sparks through his veins, and he could swear he felt his wound swell, terrifyingly eager to give her more of his ichor to taste. That seemed like a dangerous impulse, but Evan couldn't help relishing it.

Then the goddess pulled his bandage off delicately, and Evan gave a soft gasp as yet more skin--sensitive, vulnerable skin--was exposed to the air. The gasp turned to a shudder as the goddess placed a soft kiss above his cut. Then she stood, rolling the taste of him in her mouth. He felt himself salivating, and only barely registered the goddess' daring expression before he followed through on his impulse to grab at her hair and pull her into a kiss, eager to taste his own blood on her tongue.

Evan was full to bursting in more ways than one, and all of them washed into her mouth as she felt his lips upon hers, his tongue quick to attempt a steal of his own blood. Gods, he wants this, the goddess thought and knew with every drop of mist within her that she was right. Dehaljadrun breathed heavily into Evan's mouth, licking and sucking and biting at his lips and cheek, her hands reaching to grab fistfuls of his shoulders and squeeze.

Her fingertips, without their nails, sought deep muscles within Evan's flesh. They anchored themselves as the goddess pulsed a subtle electric current through her hands, feeling the ways it loosened and relaxed Evan, incidentally giving him more access to his tendons and joints. She pressed harder and found a couple large blood vessels under her pressure, sinking deeper. Only when the very edges of Evan's vision began to darken did she let go, relishing the rush of his blood as it filled the empty spaces. Quickly, oh so quickly. He was so full.

She wondered if she could have trusted him and his ability to withstand her back at the hot pools. He was a deep, deep well. But, she was glad she hadn't risked it. This was not a time to be gambling on everything for the sake of... of what?

Her own desires? Her desires to sate his? She wasn't sure she cared in that moment, only wanted more of his mouth, more of his jaw, more of his flow as her fingers then trailed softly down the sides of him--one hand dancing a hair's breadth from Evan's wound, and the other, seeking out the place where she had bit him underwater and gently running her fingers over the marks. She pulled to mind both of their memories of their thrashing under the water, and the goddess grew wet and swollen thinking of her limbs again all across Evan's body, how monstrously hungry she had been.

How hungry she still was now.

And suddenly, desperately, she wanted to pull Evan's stitches out.

Evan's open, flayed skin, she could handle. The stitches were a human wild card she didn't fully understand, and they were unpleasant to the touch.

With a mere thought, the goddess gave herself one of her dragon's claws on her right index finger. Now, she needed to stabilize Evan. Wheeling him around her with a deft movement of her left arm, the goddess pushed him backward until he was on the chaise. She was quickly on top of him, her legs pinning both of his down as they wrapped around his lower thighs. With her left arm, she held his right down, allowing his other arm to remain free, and with a wild, hungry smirk, the goddess looped under the first stitch and used the razor sharp point of the claw to cut it through the middle. Then, with her teeth, she pulled one side of the stitch out. Spitting it out on the floor, she then used her teeth again to pull out the other.

((OOC: If she's able to keep him down and such, she will probably pull out about a third of the stitches before she really checks in with him or changes direction.))

Evan moaned into the goddess' mouth as the earthy, metallic taste of his blood mingled in their deep, frantic kiss. His moans didn't stop when the goddess' lips left his to search for jaw or cheek, especially not once her fingers sank into his muscles and squeezed. He tensed against and around them, feeling them deep, and the way he couldn't help pulsing and relaxing only invited her deeper. It started to light small pangs of panic deep in his flesh as tendon and nerve and artery felt pressure, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. Spots down his arm started to tingle, and then his vision started to darken, and still he freely moaned, his own nails dragging down the goddess' back in languorous pleasure.

Her pressure relaxed, and sensation flooded down Evan's arm, his head swirling until he bit down eagerly on her neck. He didn't know how long he pressed his jaw into her before she wheeled him around, quite successfully pushing him back onto the chaise. By the time he landed his eyes were sharper again, and his body tensed and pushed back against the goddess as she descended onto him, shoving him down and pinning him despite his effort. To be fair, his cut burned when he tried to engage a good swath of muscles in this position, and something in his body was finally starting to panic about the trickle of blood.

That small seed of panic swelled significantly when he felt a sudden slack around the wound, and then with a terrifying pinch, he realized the goddess had cut and tugged out one of his stitches.

"Fuck," he breathed as he grasped with his free hand at the goddess' hair, yanking her teeth away from his wound in a frantic gesture. He realized he didn't know if she could heal this, or if she knew how dangerous this wound could be if left open. It wasn't through to his gut, but he had cut himself deep, and even if he could spare the blood, he had no idea if infection was something to worry about in the goddess' realm. He hoped not--gods, he wanted to believe that it wasn't--but it seemed like a stupid risk to take blindly, especially if they still needed to kill a demon later.

The goddess seemed undeterred by his pushback, as Evan heard the faint snap this time of a stitch being cut. He looked at the goddess with hints of confusion and anger as he realized that it hadn't been her teeth that had cut, but her free hand, which he then glared at more directly. He couldn't occupy both her teeth and her hand with just one free arm. He decided that her hand was more important now, though, and he released her hair to reach for her wrist to try to catch it and hold it away from his hip.

"Wait," he said seriously, whether or not he'd managed to catch her arm. He tried to find her gaze, to further convey the gravity of his hesitation, but spoke his next question regardless, wanting to get it out before she managed to cut and yank out another. "Can you heal this?"

He didn't need it right now, but if she kept going, he'd need it before they got too far into their night.

Evan caught her wrist when she had cut through the second stitch, and she groaned in frustration. She only barely registered his words as they fell from his mouth, her desire to continue now that she was straddling him painfully present.

Wait, he said, and she thought he deserved that much. A pang in her stomach reminded her of what she had asked Philip to do to Evan, and she didn't want to push him past a limit like that one again. This wasn't anywhere close though, right?

Can you heal this?

The goddess laughed--of course she could. After a short moment, however, she frowned. Was Evan asking her to heal it now? She didn't want to.

But, no, it sounded more like a question of whether she was capable rather than a request for her to act, and that was reasonable. She had been all but emaciated before Evan had arrived. And she certainly wasn't at full flow now.

"I have no interest in doing so now," the goddess said in case she had misunderstood the nature of the question, "but I am capable," she said with a nearly drunken smirk.

She didn't take long before she gave herself permission to continue, reaching down this time with just her teeth this to snap the middle of the third stitch, pull out one side, spit, pull out the other, and spit. It certainly wasn't as efficient, painless, or graceful as using her claw, but it would get the job done. There were 10 more stitches to go.

"I suppose you better stay on my good side," the goddess said, laughing with the knowledge of how poor Evan's track record was with that. Blood began pooling at the bottom of the wound, and the goddess took a moment to cup some of it into her mouth with her tongue, transferring it to the line of Evan's lower stomach and drawing a line of blood there with another motion of her tongue.