Written Wonderland

Embarrassment and frustration boiled in Evan's body as he searched the cushions for a shirt he finally realized wasn't there but rather discarded outside. He did find his boots and the scale in his rummaging, and for a split second a feeling of relief and a different kind of embarrassment flooded over him at the thought that he'd almost left it--followed quickly by a gravity settling over him as he remembered that, no, he'd given the scale back to the goddess, and what all that had meant.

The captain let out a long, audible exhale, trying to calm himself down and re-center. It was just one more day, and at least this time she wasn't sending him back with fucking lightning around his cock--though his cock twitched excitedly in his pants remembering the sensation. Blush was burning hot at his cheeks no matter how he tried to collect himself, and finally he gave up trying to calm down and took a step towards his boots, his body still just as full of tension as ever.

The goddess stopped him in his tracks, though, her arms lacing around him and the skin of her body pressed hotly against his back, to say nothing of her cock pushing against the back of his pants the way his own cock strained within them. Evan sighed heavily and his knees briefly buckled before he caught himself, though some part of him honestly really did want to just collapse back against her, either bringing them both to the floor or feeling the goddess catch him. His heart grew warm at the thought in a way that quickly swelled to an ache.

Then, the goddess murmured his name, the syllables cascading from her lips before her tongue trailed over the back of his neck, and Evan's whole body shuddered. He may still be managing to stand on his own two feet, but he was trapped in her grasp, if only by the fact that he knew he'd be free of it entirely too soon, and he wanted desperately to drink up as much of it as he could while he was still within it. She said something about a favor, and anxiety thumped through his chest, but he also just reveled in the sound of her voice, eager to hear what she had to say next if only just to hear her speak again.

His eyes widened in happy surprise and a surge of excitement lit up his back at what she said then: before he took his sword with him. He'd wondered if it had been a pipe dream, every bit as ludicrous as trying to take the goddess herself back inside him, but she said it so matter-of-factly, like it hadn't even occurred to her the sword might not make it; so, perhaps it would. He was still swimming in celebration over that--not to mention melting in the gentle grasp of her hand on his throat--when the goddess continued, eliciting another excited shiver from Evan's body before his mind had even processed what she'd said: she wanted him to mark her.

When she withdrew from Evan, he very nearly fell to his knees, his legs weak with desire and his skin devastated to be once more left bare without her. He managed to remain standing with a step to the side to rebalance himself, determination drawing into his expression as his body tensed back up. A wicked grin even managed to form after a moment, once his mind had truly caught up and he decided on exactly what he wanted to do. He let out another long, loud exhale then, this one significantly more successful at calming him down and demanding a stillness to settle in and around him. He watched the goddess curiously as she walked to the center of the room and confirmed with his gaze exactly the place on her skin he wanted to touch his blade to.

He stepped over to collect the sword, then, and finally began his slow approach. When he reached the goddess, he wasted no time in pressing the blade against her hip and continuing to move his own body closer until he was also pressed against it. Some part of him was frustrated that their difference in height meant it was higher on his body--though, then again, he couldn't be all that mad about how close it was to the scar he already bore. His grin flashed sinister as his free hand reached up to grab at the goddess' hair, and he leaned closer to put pressure between the blade and their bodies. Then in one smooth motion his sword hand pulled the blade out from between them.

The captain groaned loudly, pleasure and pain harmonizing together in the sound as the sword sliced into his and the goddess' flesh in tandem. His eyes closed, but only for an instant; he was quite intent on watching the goddess' expression every second that he could, confident it would be delicious and absolutely yearning to drink it all up. His grin certainly wavered, though, that wicked expression battling not to give way to a raw form of bliss.

((OOC: I admittedly can't for the life of me remember if I ever specified whether Evan is left-handed or right-handed. It's possible he'd switched his sword to his off-hand to be on the same side as his tattoo; I figure that's a detail that's more worth clarifying later than trying to look up now lol))

As soon as she had turned around to face Evan, her naked body anxious and waiting, a spike of fear shot down her chest and through her stomach. She wasn't afraid of death, not exactly--that would take a lot more than a sword--but there were varying degrees of disrespect she had left herself completely vulnerable to, and she worried that Evan would now abuse the power and control she had gifted him.

Though his intoxication at her touch just moments earlier had so clouded his reasoning and functional abilities, the goddess watched with electrically terrified anticipation as Evan took a breath to steady himself, his grin not exactly settling her nerves. She wasn't sure she would enjoy whatever his grin had in mind. Then again, he'd flashed that grin several times before, and when had she complained?

The goddess kept her face neutral as Evan surveyed her body with curiosity, though fear shown through in her eyes and the tight line of her lips. Did he think her mad to ask for this sort of pain, this sort of damage? Then again, he knew that she could heal wounds, so what did the slice of this sword much matter? Except, it did, and she hoped to the gods that Evan would understand the significance of it. She would never ask this of just anyone.

As Evan's hand settled again on the shaft of his sword, the goddess shivered just as a light breeze swept into the room. She did not take her eyes off Evan as he approached, her fear and anticipation spiking over and over again with every step he took toward her. Somehow, she hadn't expected the level of confidence with which Evan handled the sword immediately after he had gotten close enough to her. Before she had fully processed what was happening, Evan grasped her hair, and she gasped, unprepared for that type of pain as anxiety shot up and exploded through her throat. Then, she felt the cold, biting electricity of the sword against her left hip followed by pressure that didn't feel like it was coming from Evan's arm.

She winced her eyes shut and cried out simultaneously with Evan, at first a yelp of intense pain, though that trickled back into a deep, vibratory moan that pooled up in the goddess' vocal chords. Though she was confused as surprised that Evan's voice sounded in chorus to her own, the goddess fell to her knees at once, taking Evan with her if necessary with his hand still deep within her hair, her hand unable to stop from reaching up and touching the clean slice through the skin over her hip. The cut was deep, perhaps an inch, and the goddess' dark, red-black blood spilled over her fingers in a cascade of jeweled drops.

Fuck yes.

Dehaljadrun opened her eyes, their purple glow intensely burning, and looked down at the warmth pooling around her fingers, absolutely uninterested in staunching the flow until it was finished. She knew her body would already be working to repair it, but she could slow it down if she focused, and she certainly wasn't going to let the wound leave her body entirely.

Taking a breath, she looked at Evan and registered finally that he had cut his own torso at the same time and nearly in the same location. The goddess moaned deeply and let her head fall forward such that her hair danced against the floor and covered much of her face, the rivulets of blood falling down her calf almost identical to the waves of her dark hair. She pressed her fingers against the wound, not to stop to the blood but to accentuate the delicious sting that flared there, and she moaned again, now also sinking into Evan's experience of his self-inflicted pain. That he had used her moment of vulnerability to cause himself pain... well. He was just as much a masochist as she was, perhaps even more. Fuck, and she had been concerned that he would disrespect her. Here again was plenty of evidence to the contrary. The goddess chuckled briefly, dryly at herself. How had she ever doubted him? He would continue to surprise her, she expected, as long as they continued to interact.

"Tell me you're coming back tomorrow night," the goddess whispered, unable to lift her head in the slightest, even to look at him. "Please."

Evan happily fell down to his knees with the goddess, having neither the resolve nor even the motivation to counterbalance her motion in the slightest. He could have let go of her hair, he supposed, but the option honestly didn't even cross his mind until he was already on the ground beside her, watching in breathless delight as her hand began to explore the wound he had given her. Perhaps jealous of her motion, or perhaps just recognizing that he was also bleeding and maybe shouldn't let that go entirely unchecked, the captain gently set his word down beside him so his hand could examine his own wound.

It was an odd sensation, to be sure, reaching up to put pressure on his side like he'd done so many years ago. But, this was also so unlike all those years ago. This wound wasn't as deep--not that it was exactly shallow, but it wasn't nearly as close to his core. And, related but much more importantly, he'd given himself this wound purposefully, with a calm level head that knew exactly what he was getting into. It might've looked like an impulsive decision to an onlooker, but Evan had honestly signed up for every single aspect of this wound. It wasn't a careless mistake; it was a thoughtful ritual, bringing himself and his goddess closer together.

Maybe that was conceited, though. The captain's grin faltered briefly as the thought crossed his mind that maybe she wouldn't appreciate him taking a request to mark her and making it just as much about himself. But that nervousness only lasted an instant before the goddess raised her gaze to look at Evan, to take in the blood running through his fingers and down his side and staining his pants, and she moaned. There was no doubt in Evan's mind that that was a moan filled with pleasure--at both what he'd done to her and what he had done to himself. His grin widened again, honestly almost a wholesome sort of proud. By this point, the hand in her hair had loosened its grip, and was beginning to trail more towards the goddess' jaw, his touch absent-mindedly melting from assertive to tender.

Evan grew a little nervous again when the goddess chuckled, but then she spoke--whispered--and the captain let out a soft, relieved breath.

"Of course," he said, his voice soft but strong as his hand pushed itself back into her hair and settled on the back of her neck, squeezing in a way he hoped would be reassuring. Then, he let out a brief airy chuckle, his grin curling both nervous and mischievous on the edges. "I promise I won't sleep in this time." His eyebrows drew together apologetically as he looked at the cascade of hair hiding the goddess' face, hoping he wasn't making the wrong kind of light of things right now.

The goddess looked up again at Evan as he spoke, her face searching and drinking in his responses, verbal and non-verbal. The way he said, "of course" made it obvious to her that doing anything else had not even crossed his mind, and she chastised herself briefly for her own concern. But, she needed that reassurance. She didn't want to spend another night agonizing over the ways he did not--or would not--appear. And then he, too, referenced the incident earlier in the night, and a cold knife of sadness shot through the goddess' chest. How far away were they, even now, from another fight like the one from earlier? Did they trust each other any more now than they did then?

Yes, the goddess told herself. Between their exchange of the talisman and the stone, the renewed negotiation, their shared wounds, and Evan's reassurance that he would return, it certainly felt like they had built a stronger foundation.

That didn't stop the urge to slap him for sleeping in from welling up in her arm, though and if she had a better angle...

But, no, Evan's hand on the back of her neck was too successful at calming her down, and she had little desire to return to levity yet, especially levity that Evan might read as genuine displeasure.

Still holding her wound, the goddess stood up once more and pulled Evan up with her, straightening herself completely before letting go and allowing the blood to trickle down--already less of a gush now--as it may. She took the hand covered in wet, fresh, near-black blood and drug her hand diagonally across Evan's chest, sinking her nails into the gesture halfway through with a breathy sigh of pleasure. She had half a mind to heal his wound before sending him back but decided against it. Evan had created the wound himself, after all; she should let him take care of it. At least for one day. Besides, she enjoyed the thought that she was sending him back with an entirely new wound tonight, having healed the burns from the night before.

Stepping away from Evan, the goddess said, "Go then, so you can return with the volunteers you promised me." Her voice was deeper now and tinged with regret at the edges. "Bring them to the priestess in the woods when you have them all. She will know what to do with them." The goddess turned away from Evan then, a pain stinging both her eyes.

((OOC: She's prepared for Evan to leave at this point, and she would not follow him to go find his shirt, which, notably, would mean he would be unsupervised if there's anything he might try to do in her realm. No attachments, just an option. Also, worth mentioning that Dehaljadrun does not expect Evan to have them all by the following night, but we figured we would leave that open-ended in case that makes Evan stress over it in a fun way. Lol.))

Evan groaned softly as he rose to his feet with the goddess, his hand finally pulling away from her to rest at his side once they were both straightened up. He watched the goddess release her wound and marveled at the full sight of her blood. A warmth flared from his chest up his neck and into his cheeks and ears, not as visible as the usual blush but tingling at his skin in exhilaration. That she'd let Evan do that to her--that she'd wanted him to--was profound in a way he couldn't quite articulate, but it made him feel ridiculously happy. That feeling only glowed brighter as the goddess ran her bloody fingers and then her nails over his chest and sent an elated shiver through his body. His smile couldn't help bursting with that happiness, even as he swayed forward slightly and closed his eyes through a pleasure-filled groan.

He considered releasing his own wound, but then thought better of it; he wasn't a god, and as thrilling as it had been to slice himself open, now he had to take care of the consequences, and for his mortal body, that meant keeping pressure on the wound. He probably wouldn't bleed out from it, but he could weaken himself considerably if he let it go unchecked, and he wasn't about to risk losing the feeling that he'd honestly made this decision responsibly; he believed that he had, and he'd hold himself to that.

Then the goddess spoke, and the captain's mood sobered significantly. At least it felt like they were parting on good terms now, but it still felt fucking horrible looking once more at the prospect of leaving. On top of that, the goddess turned away, and Evan's free hand clenched along with his jaw to deal with the ache of already fucking missing her. He sighed, trying to relax, and then assessed what all he still needed to collect from here: his boots, and his sword. At least the sight and thought of that magnificent creation brightened him again somewhat.

The captain gathered the blade with his free hand and carefully slid it into his belt--not the safest carrying mechanism, but he had to keep pressure on his wound and carry his boots if he wanted to avoid awkwardly as fuck lingering around long enough to single-handedly lace them up. Even just gathering the boots with one hand was more awkward than Evan would've liked, but he managed, and then turned to the goddess.

"Until tomorrow night, then," he said in a low, gentle voice. He offered the goddess a nod whether or not she'd turned around to see it, and then he headed outside to go track down that gods damned shirt.

Thankfully, it wasn't difficult to spot, and Evan swept it up quickly to press against his wound rather than his bare hand. Figuring out the talisman certainly wasn't the easiest task in the world with all the shit he was juggling, but he managed. He sent one last glance over his shoulder, he supposed on the off chance the goddess may have followed after him, but he saw only the back of the palace and the empty stone circle, vacant in the cool mist. With a sigh, the captain headed on through the portal back to camp.

((OOC: I think he's gonna drop off his boots and sword at his tent and then head to the infirmary tent. I personally certainly enjoy the thought of the same healer being on duty as last night lol, tho that probably won't take up much screen time either way. The main up in the air thing would be whether Ramanujan and Nathan would wake up while Evan is there))

As Evan turned and left the palace, the goddess dug her nails into her arm to keep herself from turning back around again. When she no longer sensed his presence in the room, she finally turned around to confirm that the palace was empty, though she supposed the thralls would be returning soon. The thralls, the goddess thought. What did she want to do with them?

On the one hand, Evan had said it would be a great boon to him and would help convince the rest of his army that she was genuinely working with Evan in good faith. The goddess also remembered how Evan had mentioned that the commander had been thinking about moving their camp, and that would surely have disastrous results whether or not Evan stayed behind. And, Dehaljadrun had said that she preferred willing volunteers to the wraith-like creatures who were the best she could summon with the king's barrier in place.

Still, though, who knew how long would it take Evan to collect the volunteers? As the light slowly increased behind the fog, it had already begun to feel like an eternity. She sighed and looked back down at the wound she had asked Evan to give her. Without her adamant concentration, it had begun to close, but she focused on it now, feeling the small area where fresh blood continued to trickle out. The goddess played over and over again in her mind the moment of stinging pain and the surprise and gratification she felt when she realized Evan had sliced through both of their skin at the same time. Gods, she thought. Already, she missed him, and her mind wandered to the sensation of waiting for him to arrive at the beginning of the night and how she had been so certain that he had betrayed her.

I really am going to have to trust him, she thought. The reality of seeing the gates again and believing that Evan would succeed where others had not began to bloom behind the goddess' eyes, making her ever more anxious in her anticipation of her freedom. Behind her more human form, her dragon's wings ached to stretch.

The thralls did reappear, first the Shel'ti, then the soldiers from Evan's army, all of them awaiting her instructions.

Evan did say she could keep them...

Finally, she decided. Walking up to the small one, the goddess gently rubbed the side of his jaw with her thumb. She was going to miss this one. The goddess leaned down and kissed a short line down the crook of the boy's neck before cupping both sides of his face with her palms.

"Go on back to the dream I stole you from," Dehaljadrun said. "I hope you wake up here again." With that, she kissed his forehead and released him.

Walking to the last of the enthralled soldiers, the goddess smiled. She had appreciated this one as well, albeit for different reasons. "As for you, I have some instructions."

--

When Ramanujan awakened in the tent, it took him only a few moments of blinking at the view of the ceiling to register that he was no longer with the goddess. In fact, it seemed he had returned to the military camp, if the material of the tent was anything to go by. And from the size of the tent, yes, the infirmary. He wondered what his trance-like state had looked like from the outside to warrant being put here. Checking in with his limbs, he felt stiff but not in pain, at least, not until he tensed his core muscles and lifted with his back to move himself into sitting and felt the places where the goddess and he had slammed against hard floor. So, while my body was not physically there, Ramanujan determined, some of the physical effects of my experience remain. That certainly made everything feel more real. Though, how anyone could see the goddess Dehaljadrun and not understand that she was genuine divinity was beyond him.

Ramanujan did, in fact, making into a seated position, where he recognized one of the other thralls. He looked as though he may have had a little longer to compose himself but not by much.

Suddenly, Ramanujan's focus shifted as he vividly remembered what the goddess had said to him what must have been only moments before. He needed to do this thing for her. He was compelled. How could he not do it even if he wanted to disobey her?

Quickly, as the healer came over to check on him, Ramanujan asked him, "There's something you have to ward off the dreams, yes? May I have one?" The healer brought his eyebrows together but, without further thought, took one of the spare charms he kept in his pocket and handed it to Ramanujan. "Thank you," the solider said, immediately looping the thread over his head and pressing it against his body. "That is exactly what I needed."

((OOC: I am imagining that Ramanujan has his back to the door right now but is facing Nathan. Evan can come in at whatever point makes sense here. ))

Nathan opened his eyes to the sight of a tent's fabric, and panic and despair immediately gripped at his chest. He closed his eyes again and tried to go back into the woods in his dream where the goddess had found and then later left him, but he couldn't seem to find his way, at least not as scattered as he was. Instead, he bounced all around different disjointed memories in a way that only made his panic rise. A soft whimper escaped the boy's lips as he rolled onto his side and curled up into a ball, trying not to cry. Then, fear spiked through his stomach as he wondered whether the rebellion knew. That Nathan had been weak, and had betrayed them. That even now, he'd do just about anything to be back with the goddess again.

He heard rustling behind him, and then footsteps approaching, and he became tense and still as stone, utterly paralyzed with fear of what the person or people in the tent with him were about to do. But then one of them spoke, and Nathan realized the man's presence felt familiar. Of course; he hadn't been alone by the goddess' side.

Nathan hastily wiped at his eyes to get rid of the tears that had started forming, and then he timidly looked over his shoulder to take in more of the situation he was actually in. It was relieving to confirm that he did indeed recognize the soldier sitting up on another cot, and upon further inspection, Nathan realized this was the infirmary. The healer caught Nathan's gaze, and started to head over to the boy. Still filled with panic and no idea how to properly respond to the situation he was in, Nathan couldn't stop himself from fearfully curling back up into a ball and starting to sob.

---

Evan paused outside the infirmary tent when he heard sobbing from within. He couldn't help wrinkling his nose in disgust, and honestly thought about leaving to come back later. But, no, that was unreasonable; he had a fresh wound he needed cleaned and bandaged, maybe even stitched. Discomfort with a crying soldier was a juvenile reason to put that off, and he knew it. With a sigh, the captain briskly stepped inside.

He eyed the soldier who was sitting up, passing quickly over the inscrutable sense of discomfort he felt with him and shifting his gaze to the younger soldier who was curled up in a ball on his cot while the healer delicately approached. Evan rolled his eyes and sat down on an empty cot, groaning as he did so mostly just to draw the healer's attention to the fact that he'd arrived and was at this point holding a blood-soaked shirt against his side.

The healer looked up to Evan, at first acknowledging him in a habitual sort of way, but then registering who it was and the state he was in and letting some confusion and surprise show on his face. Evan expected as much, and kept himself from rolling his eyes again while he waited as patiently as he could muster.

The healer awkwardly asked if the darker-skinned soldier could tend to the younger one, and then brought some supplies over to Evan.

"Weren't you burned yesterday?" The healer muttered softly as he took the bloody shirt from the captain and looked over the new wound. Evan couldn't help smirking about it, his mood lightening considerably as he remembered how fun it was to have experienced something astonishing. All at once, he wished he hadn't dropped his new sword off at his tent, though the feeling was fleeting.

The healer hadn't really expected a reply, and Evan didn't give him one. Instead, he went ahead and laid down to give the healer the angle he needed to get started in earnest with the wound, and silently hoped that the dark-skinned soldier would be able to stop the younger one crying. It did sound like he was already starting to compose himself some, which was a relief. Evan never did deal well with other people crying.

((OOC: Honestly, I do think Ramanujan will be able to calm Nathan down even if he's super awkward about it; while definitely devastated to not be with Dehaljadrun anymore, a lot of what Nathan was actively upset about was having to deal with a stranger while feeling devastated, and not knowing how that stranger was going to treat him. Ramanujan is probably weirdly familiar and comforting in that respect lol.))

Once she had released Evan's last soldier, the goddess collected the scale that Evan had given back to her, remembering the moment they had traded with vivid clarity, and wasted little time in returning to the hot springs where the thralls' scales were stacked. She chose the one that corresponded to Ramanujan, setting Evan's down separately at the side of the pool. It was, perhaps, petty of her to try to infiltrate Evan's camp, and she wasn't altogether certain exactly what she would do once she was there, but sitting around moping after giving Evan exactly what he wanted didn't sit right with her. She was surely allowed to have a little fun.

Was she worried that Evan would consider this another attack? A little, but she felt confident that she could justify it if she reminded him that she hadn't promised to give both soldiers back. In a lot of ways, Ramanujan was still absolutely hers.

Scale in hand, the goddess settled into the hot springs, allowing the warmth of the water to sting at the wound Evan had given her and all the other bites and scratches that hadn't fully faded away yet. She rejoiced in the way her blood combined with the water, the black and maroon swirl of her essence only adding to the potency of the pool.

Careful not to put the stone into the water, the goddess sent a shock through the scale, activating it and having immediate and direct connection to Ramanujan's body--and his location. He had managed to follow her directions--excellent. The goddess stroked the scale gently, preparing to make her move.

--

Once Ramanujan had the charm safely against his skin, he felt at a loss of what to do. Clearly the goddess was not finished with him if she had given him instructions, but what she actually intended had been obscured from him. Should he wait in the infirmary? Should he ask questions about what had happened during his... absence? Try to find the other soldiers in his retinue? But then his eyes settled again on the soldier who had woken up around the same time, a small, short, sad boy who hardly looked like he belonged in an army camp. A wave of sympathy did wash over Ramanujan--while Ramanujan knew that the goddess had not completely let him go, he imagined that this soldier had no such condolence.

And then Evan arrived at the tent. It was strange seeing him in this context--Ramanujan had gotten used to his presence in the goddess' realm, and it was difficult to believe that this here was the same man. Before the goddess' had begun accepting men into her realm, Ramanujan knew little of Evan besides his rank, but having glimpsed bits and pieces of his interactions with the goddess, it was difficult to believe that the captain wasn't also some form of divinity. After all, Evan had been allowed to physically pass into the goddess' realm. It took Ramanujan just about as long as the healer to recognize that Evan was wounded, and given the timing, Ramanujan concluded that the goddess must have been at least partly responsible for the wound, but Ramanujan was certain that she had a good reason for it. Still, it made Ramanujan skeptical of Evan's intentions.

Then there was also the fact that seeing Evan here sparked the memory of holding Evan down on the slate table, not to mention what Ramanujan had witnessed afterward. The soldier was grateful that none of the other thralls were in the infirmary tent. That would certainly complicate matters.

With the healer occupied and no one else to console the small boy, Ramanujan stood up from his cot and took a moment to get his legs underneath him. It had clearly been a while since they had seen use, and he ached to move and stretch and run, but he supposed that could wait. Stepping closer to the boy, Ramanujan kneeled down, taking the opportunity to stretch a little--why waste the opportunity?--but sincerely looked at the boy with concern. What should he say?

Having watched the goddess interact with this soldier in her realm, Ramanujan had appreciated the ways in which the goddess was gentle with this boy, and he decided to take the same stance.

"She's not completely gone from you, you know," Ramanujan started to say, uncertain that he could find the right words but hoping they would land well regardless. "You'll always carry her with you, in your thoughts. In your dreams. Don't forget that she chose you." Whether or not the goddess had specifically chosen the men she spirited away to her realm was likely a matter for debate, but Ramanujan did not feel like a small lie--if it was, in fact, a lie--would harm anything now.

It was then that Ramanujan felt a strong sensation of warmth followed by tingles in lines up his back, and he instantly knew that the goddess must be responsible for them. He closed his eyes, prepared to allow her to do whatever she would.

Nathan's sobbing started quieting to sniffles once he heard the healer walking away, though he remained curled tightly in a ball with his face hidden. He felt embarrassed at having broken down in response to someone who was probably just coming over to help him, but he had no idea what to do about it.

The voice of the other recovered soldier was at first surprising when he spoke, but then soothing. Nathan sniffed and uncurled just enough to look over his shoulder at the man, his eyes pink and scared but also hopeful and attentive. That Nathan would always carry the goddess with him was a mixed bag of a notion; he wasn't sure that carrying her with him was good, and regardless, it certainly wasn't very consoling. He didn't want to merely have the goddess in his thoughts and his heart; he wanted to be by her side, under her sway, in her clutches, even though those desires seemed confusing to him. Shouldn't he be glad to be free?

The boy nodded sadly, and pushed himself to sit up before sniffing again and wiping away his tears. He looked to the other soldier, and then to the side of the tent, flustered and unsure what to do next. Should they stay there and let the healer examine them? Should they go check in with their superio-- A fresh layer of blush colored Nathan's face as he recalled that Lieutenant Pemberley had been there with the goddess, too. The cadet looked around the tent, reassessing how he felt about the empty cots; where were the older soldiers that had been with them? Sure, they'd left the goddess' realm before Nathan, but were they okay?

Nathan mustered enough courage to inquire and looked over to the healer and--

His stomach jumped to his throat when he realized that the soldier the healer was tending to was the same soldier who had been visiting the goddess. Nathan hadn't seen much of their interactions, but he'd seen enough to be both afraid of and transfixed by Captain Rutliff. Nathan's blush reddened even further, but he re-mustered the courage to speak.

"Are the soldiers who came back before us okay?"

Evan craned his neck to look at the young boy when he spoke up. He was glad the boy wasn't crying anymore, but the scared little warble in his voice made Evan want to roll his eyes. Thankfully, the healer answered so Evan didn't have to debate how to reply.

"As far as I know, they've returned to duty."

Nathan finally felt relief relax through his body, though he was still left feeling listless and unsure what he should do next. Truthfully, one of the things he'd miss most about his time in the goddess' realm was never having to decide what to do.

Ramanujan briefly opened his eyes again to take in the boy's response to his words, and feeling like he had done all that was strictly necessary there, returned to sit on the cot he had woken up on, sinking into the sensations the goddess wanted him to feel, closing his eyes once more to feel her presence more acutely.

Sure enough, as the tingles through Ramanujan's back escalated, the goddess closed her eyes and focused, striving to make some connection in the body of the man who had been her thrall. Having access to his location through the scale, she found him easily enough through the landscape of dreams, and when he closed his eyes and prepared for her to come through, she felt his fantasies, his desire to please her, and that was enough to give her control. She lamented that this distant connection was nothing like the merger she experienced physically with Evan, but it was enough to experience Evan's world through Ramanujan's eyes, and Ramanujan was all too happy to step aside and let her use his body as she saw fit.

The goddess, now firmly in control of Ramanujan's body, opened their shared eyes, the brilliant purple of her own eyes shining through. Seeing Nathan, the thrall she so recently let go, she nodded, though not at all attempting to catch his attention.

While the goddess had come through other bodies in the past few nights, there had rarely been time to look around, much less decide what to do. But, now, the goddess surveyed the infirmary tent, chuckling internally at how frail the humans were to need such a place, such devices. That brought back the memory of healing Evan's wounds, and Ramanujan's body flooded with excitement and arousal at the thought. But, certainly, even if she could heal humans through this borrowed human body, she wasn't going to waste her limited time here.

Turning around, Dehaljadrun saw Evan out of her peripherals, making sure that she didn't unduly attract attention to herself. Being discreet certainly wasn't a strength of hers, but she wasn't trying to cut all this short. Still, she saw enough of him to realize that he was getting his wound stitched up, which, at first, saddened the goddess. But, she reminded himself, he was still human and needed to take care of himself, especially if he wanted to be strong enough for another couple nights with her. And, stitching up the wound would not mean erasing the scar.

It did bring her own wound to mind, although she quickly banished the thought, aware that thinking too much of her own body in her realm would break the connection she had here.

Standing up, the goddess quickly became accustomed to Ramanujan's sense of balance and center of gravity and made a motion to dust off Ramanujan's pants simply to ensure that she had enough muscle coordination not to look suspicious. She was immensely grateful that Ramanujan had neatly tucked his consciousness out of the goddess' way and was not, at all, trying to fight her. That did make all this tremendously easier.

Turning around, the goddess looked at the healer and quickly said, "I believe I've recovered. I will also return to my duties." Momentarily, the goddess was surprised that Ramanujan's voice had come out of his borrowed mouth; she hadn't had to mimic him at all. He had stepped in for her once she had formulated what she wanted to say--careful not to sound like she was asking for permission. Inwardly, the goddess purred, appreciating Ramanujan's act. Perhaps, despite the discomfort she felt with his level of obedience and deference, he would continue to be useful.

Without further delay, the goddess began to walk out of the infirmary tent.

((OOC: Evan's welcome to try to stop her (or Ramanujan). We are not attached to anything. <3))