Chapter Text
"I am never too old to learn new things," Ushasu murmurs, running a hand through the wu’s mane to finally let it rest atop his head, "Litoru Amara".
For now, the pair lingers a lot at their new home. It is mostly still a bunch of empty rooms, but Amara has found her a lovely couch that looks almost like the one Ushasu had at the sphere castle; as for the guardian himself, he simply rests on the floor at her feet like a faithful animal, and Ushasu doubts she has ever seen - felt - him radiating such profound joy.
Looking with a new intent, Ushasu sees his head tilting back ever so slightly, following the motion of her hand; a frowny, fanged mouth falling open as her most recent words evoke a tiny gasp… And she knows she has hit a spot. Amara, too, is learning. "Litoru" - little - Amara is a part of his personality he'd rather never acknowledge and even less admit: the childish and selfish, but also lonely and so, so vulnerable self! Yet in a struggle to fight off invaders he has given it away, among many other things. He had to look his younger self in the eyes in the shell of young wu Yakumo, confront it and accept it back! And here Amara is, gasping for air, utterly caught and exposed - in a good way, Ushasu knows.
For a little bit, she simply keeps stroking Amara's hair: marveling at how good his long, glossy mane can feel, how the horn - almost like an unicorn's - catches against her palm, and how his entire body relaxes into the touch. Both of them have already discovered many new things over a very short time since they met their younger counterparts; but as always, Ushasu has made herself quite elusive... and Amara threw himself in head-first. Necessity - or the sheer devotion to their respective Sanjiyan mistresses has forced the guardian to merge with Yakumo many times over, magics and energy traded back and forth in an inhuman effort against their shared enemy - that and other things. It forces Amara to re-evaluate: confronted with himself and the other who is so alike that the experience loops back on itself. Through the merging, Amara has been let in on horribly intimate things no one besides a couple of lovers - much more a wu and his mistress - should know about themselves! Hell, Yakumo's first time with Parvati is something he never should or would have witnessed! Yet he did, inconspicuous as ever, fused onto Yakumo's hand like an amulet glove - basked in the human's thousand and one conflicting sensation. The connection between Ushasu and Amara has been like air: unseen yet always there, necessary to keep on living; that of Parvati and her wu is electricity, always flowing from A to B, always calling out - an intense, mutual need for each other. It is deeply confusing; at the same time, it has set something astir within Amara himself. The young, unrestrained passion is fascinating, and it is bleeding over. The change can not go unnoticed.
Ushasu does not know, neither does she ask, only feels... and yearns to explore. This is new, too. Raised at the royal court to become one of the first Kaiyanwang's many concubines, she never learned any connection between love and sensual touch. A gentle embrace, a caress between mother and child or among her and her perfect reflection - Laatori, who is more of a twin sister to her than another child, is all Ushasu has ever known. Amara? He was like a wall or a tree that you climb to hide in its branches, careless and protected; like a houseplant or a piece of furniture that blends in with any room so perfectly that it's almost embarassing! How could she have... ignored him so? Taken him for granted, even? After all he has done? Has she ever considered he would like to be noticed? Now her stoical guardian has changed, or did he just never let it show? Unnoticed, as she thinks, Ushasu presses a hand to her chest. This new heart beats like crazy trying to keep up with her erratic thoughts, but it is not exhausted, this newly-made body is full of life! Not only does Amara's very soul reside in there, but the body itself has been created from the former sphere castle. Now and forever, Ushasu is together with Amara, is indeed a part of him. This all became reality thanks to Yakumo, yes; but without Amara, it would never have been possible in the first place - or safe afterwards. Ushasu is not naive: she knows she still has enemies out there... but also the best ally she could wish for. Through the vague dreams within her growth pod she clearly remembers Amara's desperate calls, his honest tears, him guarding her day and night. Amara is wonderful, Ushasu wants to finally let him know, desperately wants to somehow reward him! Only when has she ever really paid attention to another's feelings?
"How does this feel?" she asks, hand straying from its pattern and wandering down the guardian's neck. By his looks, it is good, but looks have deceived her for millenia now - there is no helping it but ask.
"Good, your Highness," Amara breathes out, all stern. Ushasu doesn't buy it. How can she know for sure if he clams up like that? Shoulders all tense, a frown on his face, she just has to quietly check his real emotions... Aaand that would make for another soft spot.
"Amara?"
"Ngh," he pants, staring at her with way too bright eyes. She did nothing but reach out through the telepatic connection that should be natural to them by now - it once was! - yet a reaction like this?
"Mmh?" - Ushasu intones.
"Nice," Amara whines helplessly, sliding down a little from his stiff sitting position. "Ushasu-sama!"
That sounded almost pleading, and Ushasu thinks she's onto something.
"Shh," she whispers, brushing the second hand into Amara's mane, "I am here."
He is so tall that even when he is sitting on the floor like that, Ushasu can lean her entire body against his back. She does. Her presence and their connection must be what Amara has been so sorely missing and now devours like a starved man; well, she can give him all he wants. For a moment, she just enjoys the warmth and safety his very body radiates: her fortress even now that he isn't a physical castle any more! Then, carefully, Ushasu reaches out for his mind again. Only a gentle touch, like the rays of morning sun kissing an awakening leaf, because she now knows she has to be careful, but it sends Amara reeling regardless.
"Ushasu-sama!"
Whenever overwhelmed, good or bad, it is always just her name, and Ushasu is deeply touched by his devotion. A flash of white light goes out from Amara and at first, Ushasu can't quite place it, until it forms his signature protective bubble around both of them.
"Good?" she asks again, quietly.
"I - yes," Amara mutters, covering his face with one clawed hand, "yes, your Highness, it is just I'm - loud," he whispers abashedly. "Someone might think there is a fight."
All right! So the bubble mutes sound, and no one has heard Amara like that except in a battle before? It is... exciting? It means he'd rather shut himself in with Ushasu than without. That he is in for whatever she'd like. And it just happens that she'd like to hear him. Carried away by a momentary whim, she curls both hands into the hair behind Amara's ears, close enough to the scalp to actually tug, and places a kiss on his nape.
To think of it, Ushasu is quite sure this is his battlefield voice: the same barely restrained, forceful bellow that has so often warned her of danger and barked powerful summons all in one breath. Without words, it just sounds as if Amara has taken a hit. It is… not bad, however? Ushasu takes a few moments to let him cool down - and, frankly, herself as well. In the meanwhile, she simply marvels at her guardian. So… this is new to him, too! Yet he dives in with such abandon. He is lovely like that: breathing heavily, eyes firmly shut, face visibly flushed under tan skin, his now tousled glossy mane draped over her knees in surprisingly heavy strands. Almost like he's let down his guard; Ushasu knows he has not, at least not outwardly. A part of him is always keeping vigil on the brim of that protective bubble - Amara has gotten awfully good at splintering his conscious - but in here, he is a hot mess, and that's just how she likes him.
What they are doing definitely doesn't count as "making love" anywhere in Ushasu's books, but what is it, then? And have her books (physical and metaphorical) been wrong? She finds more and more of a balance in using their mental connection as a kind of invisible touch, energy fields dance and twist back and forth like tidal waves, and when they do, it almost feels like their very hearts intertwine.
'Indeed, they do,' Ushasu marvels. Amara's soul resides in her somehow not too-small ribcage next to and throughout her own, always has! Technically, a Sanjiyan soul outside of its body would appear larger than that of lower monsterkind; but now is no time for technicalities. The most intriguing thing in the world lies right before Ushasu's ever-dual mind in the form of her guardian. The loving goddess of the Red Dawn is yearning to reward him, yet at once coldly curious and relishing her ever-fastening control over her most loyal servant. Her hands wander around Amara's neck and shoulders in an innocent, playful motion; under that hands, he is a coiled steel spring. Ushasu can feel the flow of tension and relaxation, every tremble which did not quite make it into a full motion, every breath which is ready to become a cry should she act but a little bolder.
"This just won't do. You have to get used to me again," she chides jokingly in a tone that clearly says 'I missed you, too.'
Pleasure is a white heat; instinctively, Ushasu recoils from it. Even as it is different from anything she has known before - still, Ushasu can't throw herself in as readily as Amara. And that is okay. That, in fact, is the beautiful thing about the pair: they complete each other. Amara would do anything, give anything Ushasu demands of him; she wants to turn the bark into a moan and the moan into a purr, and she always gets what she wants. It does not take long at all until the guardian rests his head on her knees and Ushasu has to shuffle around, giggling, because who'd have thought his horn gets in the way!
"How do you people not catch on things all the time?" she wonders idly, thinking of him and that girl Uukai and so many more.
"We do."
Amara smiles thinly and then does what she's probably never seen before: he yawns like a cat, down to that little adorable sound and the small kneading motion his hands make on the carpet. His ridiculous long ears twitch and drop; for a second, Ushasu's heart overflows with adoration so much that she's tempted to bite the tip of that ear, but she very well knows how it would topple the entire house of cards she has already built. That is for another time; this is for him. Ushasu wants to be in his sweet dreams before the fevery ones (not instead, she notes with clinical interest). So she continues to massage his weary shoulders and brush his hair: he always ties off separate strands in a sort of ponytails; she somehow ends up braiding them instead. It does not matter. When she ties the last hairband back in its place, the ever-watchful Amara is fast asleep. It is a treacherous sleep: the protective bubble still encompasses them like a shell and a tripwire at once, but Ushasu willfully ignores it. Maybe, young Parvati influences her more than Ushasu would allow... The emotion, the freely flowing change of roles and erasing of boundaries. Ushasu does not need or want to go anywhere. Right now, for once, she wants to keep watch over her own guardian.