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Chapter Text

The markings on the ground were easy enough for a skilled hand. With his raven to lead him across realms, He Who Was hardly needed such a complex ritual to travel to Avernus, but the man beside him had no such guide. The incubus would usually make the arrangements for him, but word was that they were preoccupied for the early part of the evening. 

“There. That’s the last item placed.” The Shadar-Kai shooed away the white raven fussing above his head. “Wait here for me, I will return when I am done with my business. Our work will not be denied, but neither will I.”

“Your companion cares for you, Dear One, you should not be so hasty.” Abdirak smiled, stepping into the circle of infernal symbols with a large bag over his shoulder.

“The bird is devoted to pulling on my every last nerve whenever I am not following the missives to the letter. Such dull squawks are better ignored than heeded.” He smirked as he held the open book in his palm. “Or should I follow some dreadfully boring missive to collect another soul’s penance, instead of taking up your more generous invitation?” 

“The choice, as ever, is your own, Dear One. But perhaps it might be wise to bring back something to appease the creature, I would so hate to find you missing an eye to the raven’s wrath.” Abdirak paused a moment, fingers tracing the lines where talons might mark across his brow and cheek. “Although, the scars would hold a beauty of their own.” 

“I have grown fond of my depth perception.” He kissed the priest’s fingers lightly. “And I need my sight for my work as much as you need your hands to deliver your devotions. One treat, but no more. I shall not deign to spoil the feathered menace.”

“An excellent choice.” Abdirak’s hand moved to his lower back, resting on the curve with gentle warmth that seemed to be a complete opposite of everything else one might think of the man from looking at him.

He Who Was savoured the contradiction as he finished the ritual, the infernal magic rising from the floor beneath them and swallowing them in a moment of pure darkness.

When the bubble of the spell faded around them, the air was warmer, the faint hint of sulphur and ash drifting to their senses as they stood in the halls of the House of Hope.  

—

“There are more romantic places to go on a day such as this, or so I am told.” He Who Was kept an easy pace beside Abdirak as they moved through the halls of the House of Hope, largely ignored by the denizens who had become accustomed to their occasional visits. 

“Do your guilty souls usually impart such wisdom as you bring them their justice?” The priest allowed their hands to lightly touch as they walked, once or twice more than would be believably accidental. 

“It seems romantic betrayals are all too common among the unrepentant dead.” He shrugged. “Such is the way of pitiful souls, weak of mind and heart.” 

“And naturally you would have no such weaknesses, Dear One.” Another slight brush of a fingertip against his wrist, almost electric and yet neither man showed any reaction. 

“I would not allow for any attachments to weaken me, priest.” He kept walking, the unspoken other half of his thought only slipping out in the way he purposefully angled a little closer so their arms touched once more. Such bonds should serve only to strengthen…

—

The room was much as Abdirak had requested, though a few extra pieces were around this time, and an even finer array of delicacies on magically heated and cooled platters set at a table with softer chairs beside the healing pool. Only two chairs, he noted, assuming the incubus did not intend to linger for mortal delicacies when they would likely have more of Raphael’s clients than usual on such a day. 

He Who Was had already left his side, stalking around the room and examining the options. He smiled to himself, placing his bag upon an empty table. The Shadar-Kai always seemed to do the same whenever they arrived here now, letting his hands caress the tools and furniture as if he could pick up the memory of pain from the surface. It reminded him of the way one might examine a buffet spread, taking in the scent of a hundred dishes before choosing which one to put on the plate. Though in their case, it was usually He Who Was that ended up spread upon a platter…

“So, what is it that catches your eye most today, Dear One? How would you like to begin?” Abdirak made the offer he usually did, finding that the first choice was a good clue to what the elf desired most later on. Though with Haarlep due to join them later, his own plans might have to be more flexible to accommodate the whims of an incubus. 

“If the answer you seek is an honest one, then none of the trinkets over here have sparked my interest.” He Who Was began to make his way back across the room to where Abdirak was now leaning with his hands on the table behind him either side of his hips as he just barely sat on the edge. 

“That is disappointing to hear, was the last time too soon? Have the names of the guilty not built their need for release through your voice?” Grey-blue eyes watched with a piercing gaze as his lover did not stop until their bodies were almost touching, the elf’s leather wrapped feet subtly either side of his own. “Pity, Loviatar was looking forward to hearing the cries of their penance. As was I… Is there nothing that would ease your burdens?”

“I can think of a few things.” He Who Was leaned closer still as Abdirak remained motionless and calm. Pale hands found purchase on his wrists, pinning them to the table as he leaned closer. His dark eyes were more intense than ever, yet not with the souls of the damned squirming out of reach behind them… “You have not laid down your own burdens for some time, have you? You have let no hand but your own mark you.” 

Abdirak was beginning to feel the stirring of intense desire as the Shadar-Kai held him in place, pressing their bodies together as he stole a kiss without so much as a bruise first. And yet, the ferocity of the passion behind it felt as if the kiss alone would bruise his lips, a heated tongue pressing at the scars to bid his mouth to open to the lust that threatened to burn them both to ash.

Chapter Text

Haarlep didn’t even need to touch the handle of the door to feel the heat from behind it. Their eyes glowed a little brighter with hunger, wondering what it might be that had risen the passion so soon. The priest had spoken of many particularly delicious moment where the very depths of agony had transformed into bliss, and yet…

The scene that opened up along with the door was so remarkably mundane that for a moment the incubus was certain they had opened the wrong door.

Abdirak was leaning on a table, his bag behind him, hands pinned at the wrists by the lithe elf pressing their bodies together, looking almost set to simply take his pleasure without a hint of their usual games.

That would not do.

As delicious as the lust radiating from them was, Haarlep closed the door firmly, the thud of wood and snap of metal echoing into the room and breaking the moment the kiss had consumed. “Well, it seems the two of you are already indulging~” They smirked at the flash of dark eyes and the cooler gaze of steel from the other. “Ah, sweet Priest, it is high time I met your most penitent of partners. My apologies for not meeting you sooner, the Master of the House demanded my presence for…dinner~” 

“If you have already eaten then what need have you for our time?” The Shadar-Kai was quick to snap back, glaring a challenge that brought only a laugh to the incubus and a momentary apologetic smile from Abdirak. 

“You told me this one was quite the brat, spirited indeed. He must be so delicious when broken to your whims, Priest.” Haarlep slowly stalked across the room, tail swishing slowly behind them. “You surely have warned him by now that I am the crueller master here~” 

“Pain without purpose,” Abdirak warned.

“Mmm your rules indeed, I remember, I will not cross them. Tell me, what plans did you have?” They stood just a pace away now, towering over the pale haired men with their wings rising high above them in an impressive - and threatening - display. 

“If you must know, I had no intention of being the one to receive his blessings today.” He Who Was began, releasing one of Abdirak’s wrists so he could turn to face the incubus, though his other hand kept its grip on the priest, subtly weaving their fingers together. “Can you not see behind his eyes? His own burden aches for relief.” 

“A pity, I had been looking forward to hearing the names you hold closer than your own echoing off these walls.” Given their own situation, Haarlep was speaking nothing but the truth in that moment. The parallel of two without their own identity, and yet He Who Was still carried his true name deeper in his heart, the potential to hear it buried beneath a mountain of souls and capped with the snows of their guilt. The anagram of Haarlep’s name, however, bore the hint of the insulting nickname they had claimed as a personal pleasure from their muddled namesake’s own lips… A thought they swallowed back behind a different appetite for now. “Well, I can’t deny that I haven’t given thought to the distinct pleasure of serving Loviatar’s beloved a dish of his own making.”

“With a measured hand.” Abdirak reminded them. “But you can rest assured that this body can withstand a banquet of torments, should you be able to provide them.” 

“If you had said that to me alone I would not be concerned, but your friend here seems more than capable of destroying you if they wished.” He Who Was looked between the two with a frown, relenting as the spark from both became too bright to ignore. “So be it. The word. What is it to be?”

“Given the day,” the incubus laughed to themselves, “I believe heart would be a fitting term. Or the rhythm of four beats of a heart, should words be impossible, for there are three of us and a fourth would be unwelcome.”

The Shadar-Kai’s eyes told them he thought a third was already unwelcome, but a whisper from the priest finally had him relenting. “Then what is it you want? I assume you are not here to speak of the finer details of a romantic date, incubus.” 

“Mmm indeed I am not, Little Raven. Still your beak, your flapping is unnecessary - our sweet priest here is almost as much an expert in pain as I am in pleasure~ You know well how the two are most excellent bedfellows.” They stepped in closer, crimson fingers taking hold of his pale jaw with a firm grip. “Don’t you want to find out how much fun we can have together?” 

—

He Who Was bristled at the pet name, at the boldness with which the fiend approached. Abdirak sometimes called him Raven, but the difference was the priest had earned that right.  He had been prepared to meet Haarlep properly, at one point perhaps intrigued, but something about them was ruffling his feathers. Wonderful, he seethed, am I to see myself as they do now? I am no mere bird.  

“You have tasted the wine before, but have you ever taken the poison from the source?” Haarlep purred, their lips drawing ever closer.

“I most certainly have not…” His resistance was crumbling, the scent from their skin was strong, their touch warm… The fire in their eyes and depth of their voice stirred the need that had already been building from being with Abdirak. 

“And would you like to?” Their lips were close enough to brush against his as they spoke softly, whispering the questing and demanding an answer.

“Is it truly that special?” He kept from giving in, challenging the other to be first to break and take what they wanted, yet they denied it still. 

“It will only be given to those who desire, I have no wish to give an unwanted gift, Little Raven~” Their breath felt hot, the scent of cinnamon ever stronger with each passing moment.

—

Abdirak watched the display with interest. The unstoppable force and immovable object meeting yet staying a hair’s breadth from either making the first move. 

Tension could, at times, be a perfect way to build to pain’s perfect sting, but this…was becoming ridiculous.

The priest grabbed the incubus by the horns roughly and stole their kiss instead, deepening it to taste their lust-drenched poison as he let go of the horn and wove his hand into their hair instead. The familiar heat began to burn through him, the taste almost addictive, but he pulled himself away before he could drown in it completely. 

Abdirak’s free hand found the base of the Shadar-Kai’s braid, pulling him in now to share the taste of Haarlep still dancing across his tongue. It took less than a second for He Who Was to succumb to his greed, chasing the sweet heat of the flavour ever deeper into the kiss. The priest bit the elf’s lip as he broke away, guiding him instead towards the incubus, still holding both by the hair.

—

He Who Was felt his resistance fading in the onslaught, finally relenting to enjoy it, the sparks of aphrodisiac from the second hand source already fraying the corners of his resolve. Thoughts of jealousy slipped away at the encouragement of Abdirak’s hand holding his hair firmly, persuading his lips to part for the fiend’s passions.

They were hot like fire and flowed like wine, intoxicating from the first touch. He began to relax, letting friction of personality give way to the natural feeling of giving over control to someone who could take it well. 

—

Haarlep’s arms curled around the waist of each, their tail teasing Abdirak’s hand away from the controlling grip on them and taking over. They allowed the kiss to be shared between all three until it would become dangerous to continue, breaking apart and allowing the men to share the remainder of the moment between just the two of them.

“You are both so…delicious~” They purred their approval, hands lingering on their lower backs, claws just hinting at the potential to scratch away more of their resolve. “Now, you wanted to see your priest brought to his knees… I would be more than willing to do that for you. The choice is yours, of course, but I am more than well versed in everything you see in this room and its proper use~”

“Dear One?” Abdirak looked to He Who Was, his answer already clear in the question, needing only the approval. 

“As you wish.” The elf stole another kiss from the priest, biting his lip hard enough to taste a small drop of blood that came to the surface with the whisper of a moan. “As long as there will be more time for us later. I…have longed to deliver your punishment by my own hand for a while. I do not wish to miss our chance again.” 

Abdirak nodded, turning back to where Haarlep awaited the full answer. “Do not expect my Dear One to submit so easily to you, but treat him well and you will hear as many names as you desire.”

“Then one more rule. Nameless Little Raven, you shall only speak my name at the final moment, when you give yourself over to bliss.” Haarlep noted the look from the human, the hint of a concerned frown. “I will not make a deal without explicit permission, of course, this is purely a matter of the importance in a single word that holds an entire identity~ You understand of course, Raven, names are your business after all.” 

“I do.” He smirked, the edge of resilience finding a way back into his voice. “Good luck bending me to it, and when you do I will speak the truth at the heart of your sin.” 

“Will you now?~ I look forward to hearing that.” Haarlep smirked, gesturing to the open room. “Shall we begin?”

—

Abdirak followed the orders given by the incubus precisely and to the letter, as if each word carried the magic of a true Command within, but it was simply a matter of what was most natural.

He Who Was, on the other hand, carried a glare of defiance, despite the towering presence of the fiend. Abdirak fell in step in the middle, ordered by Haarlep to secure his lover to the chains on the wall. A primitive choice, simple, and yet effective. 

The manacles were leather padded, easy to tighten and to raise on a chain attached to a latched pulley that would secure the height. It was an easy matter to secure him, but Abdirak wanted to take his time, let the senses build, raise the tension with each lingering touch.

He removed the elf’s jacket first, stealing a kiss as the sleeves slipped off his arms, resisting the urge to press their bodies together and kiss him hard against the wall…settling only for lingering touch across his chest and back. The elf’s body, always so cool to the touch, the hint of death’s chill fingers never far from the Gloomweaver’s true nature. He ran his hands from the man’s narrowed waist, along sensitive ribs, guiding his arms above his head to where the manacles waited.

In the space of another stolen kiss, He Who Was had become bound to the wall by chains, the other end of which were pulled up by Haarlep, clicking along each notch of the gears until the elf was almost stretched against the cold stone.

“Now, undress the rest of him - do not think to steal more with your lips just yet, sweet priest, you shall have your meal soon enough.” Their lilting voice sang a promise with the edge of a threat, and the suggestion that obedience would continue to reap a greater reward. 

Leathers were easily undone and slipped away from sensitive hips that moved towards warm touch as the fabric slid to the floor. The elf stepped out of the garment, swiftly tossed to the side. In their place, Haarlep had passed over a strong metal bar with leather cuffs at either end. Abdirak fastened them with care, making sure they would be tight enough.

He stood back, feeling the heat of the incubus behind him wrapping their arms around his body in an ardent embrace, leaning close to his ear with their deeply seductive voice. “There now, look at the beautiful artwork you have placed on the wall~” Their voice raised a little louder, ensuring they would be heard clearly by another pair of ears. “You were right, he is quite stunning laid bare like that, spread for us to see. Oh and he writhes so perfectly too~” 

“We are not here merely to watch, are we? My maiden’s ears grow weary of the quiet.” Abdirak teased, leaning back and looking up at Haarlep as they remained behind him, chest warm against his bare back. 

“On your knees, priest, but not facing him. You will face me.” Haarlep commanded with a sultry tone, ignoring the quiet protests from the man on the wall. “Oh, but do remove your pauldrons first, your arms will need to be bare. The rest stays on, for now.” 

The incubus stepped away, selecting a long rope of ebony silk fibres while Abdirak removed the armour from his shoulders. He allowed a little temptation to glance back at where He Who Was remained bound to the wall right behind him, mouthing a silent “trust me, Dear One” , before the incubus returned. 

He knelt still as he was bidden, allowing Haarlep to begin binding his body in place.

—

He Who Was felt increasingly restless. The incubus saliva burned through him, leaving him aching for touch, desperate for anything. Abdirak was kneeling so close, if the priest were facing him at this distance it would take little more than to lean forward and-

The thought that passed through his mind, of feeling scarred lips beginning to taste the evidence of everything he was thinking and feeling… The sight unfolding before him was certainly not helping.

First, Abdirak’s legs were bound tightly folded in the kneeling position, feet settled beneath still clothed hips, rope forming neat patterns. A part of him was jealous, missing the feel of proper binding, the only contact allowed to his aching body the manacles at his wrists and ankles, and the cold wall behind him if he leaned against it.

He kept watching, noting the familiar patterns of old scars across Abdirak’s back, lines he had traced with his own fingers many times in the afterglow as they bathed together after previous encounters. The cord of the rope began to wind around his body here now, too, the pattern almost akin to a harness as Abdirak’s arms were pulled and twisted behind him, bound together with precision and care. 

“Keep watching, Little Raven, he is almost ready for you~” Haarlep licked their lips, as if watching the lid of a serving dish lift away to reveal the steam curling into the air. 

The Shadar-Kai could not keep his eyes from his priest as the rope looped from the harness binding near tense shoulders, threading down and around the ankle points. The incubus smiled in delight as they pulled the rope gradually, bending Abdirak backwards, dragging him further down until he was straining every muscle from the exertion of it all.

Scarred lips parted with a low moan as the priest’s head came to a stop right between the elf’s pale legs.

—

Haarlep felt the energy in the air rising just as they had planned, bending low to caress the human’s exposed throat as he kept his breathing slow and controlled. They knew well that this was barely any discomfort, but it would be so much more delicious to raise the man’s need for pain to a dire and desperate plea far more than doing so with sexual pleasures. 

Abdirak would never beg to be touched with a gentle hand, a lover’s caress, but he would whine so beautifully in the end were he to be denied Loviatar’s devotion. 

The elf against the wall, on the other hand… His chest was rising and falling with far less control as he could clearly feel his lover’s breath hot against his thighs, the sight of his body bent beneath him, so close and yet just out of reach.

“Go ahead, you can taste what you want. Show him the depths of your devotion and I will ensure your goddess hears both of you properly.” Haarlep ran a sharp claw across Abdirak’s chest. Hard enough for the edge to be felt, but not to cut. They continued up to his neck, helping guide his head to just the right place, their other hand around the elf’s hips to bring him just an inch forward.

—

He Who Was drew a deep breath through gritted teeth at the intrusion. The incubus knew exactly what he wanted, but it still frustrated him that this was how he got it.

Their tail curled up around his thigh, a sudden tight grip on his leg drawing the pain to the surface. “Damakos, stole from the poor”, the penitent seemed eager to leave with an easier punishment, though the others squirmed out of his reach. 

Abdirak’s tongue was teasing now, pressing inside then pulling back slowly to taste his skin. The second name of the evening came out louder as the priest’s teeth marked soft flesh, his tongue quickly soothing again. He didn’t even notice the incubus leaving as his mind began to blur in the souls writhing in his consciousness.

The ache in his shoulders began to feel like an embrace, letting his weight hang a little heavier both to deepen the pain and to urge the human beneath him to go on, to taste more-

—

Abdirak felt too comfortable, his feet barely crushed beneath his hips, the stone almost a cushion for his bare knees. His body was bent back, pulled and stretched, but the burn in his muscles was a pale imitation of the agony he desired. Still…this was Haarlep’s game. The burn of the aphrodisiac made them both ache with a different need. 

He pressed his mind to obedience, following every instruction, letting go of the control he often held so tightly to devote himself to pleasure , as the incubus was so fond of saying. He preferred other devotions, but to hear lustful groans between the names and sins from the Shadar-Kai’s lips was its own reward for now. 

With the sound of pleasure and pain honing his focus on He Who Was, seeking every sensitive nerve he could reach to test the elf’s limits with teeth and tongue, he didn’t notice the return of the fiend. 

The cold flat of the blade against his ribs came as a surprise, a slight moan as his teeth sank deeper into his lover’s thigh. 

—

“Kithri Greenleaf, ahh you vile creature, poisoner.” He who was complaining watched closely as the steel caressed Abdirak’s bared body while Haarlep knelt beside him. “Why do you keep him- ahhh- waiting?” 

“Such delicious sins, Little Raven. Tell me, do you always rush your meals?” Haarlep smirked, the tip of the dagger making the smallest cut on the priest’s side, the pain driving the man’s tongue deeper with a pleased moan that vibrated into the core of his own body. 

He felt the cold shadow of a shame all his own as he realised that the ache and throb of lust left him leaking, unsatisfied and needy, a small drip landing on his lover’s exposed throat.

“Not complaining now, are we~” The incubus purred as they bent down low, the tips of their horns sharp and grazing his thigh as their tongue cleaned the mess he had made, staying longer to kiss and lick at Abdirak with motion so gentle it made the priest strain at the ropes to demand harsher touch. “Not yet. If I mark you here, your Raven might never forgive me~” They chuckled softly against his skin, dipping down to lick at the blood from the dagger’s caress, rewarding him with a light bite at the raw edge of the wound. 

He Who Was loosed another name at the next pain he was granted from the lover between his legs, seeing the incubus stand as the glow of the magic faded from his eyes again. 

“Taste it, little Raven. Taste your own shame and his pain in my kiss.” Their lips were a whisper away from his, parted slightly, waiting expectantly.

It frustrated him no end, but the desire was impossible to resist. He closed the gap, increasing the strain on his shoulders. The sharp copper mixed with the salt and cinnamon, a powerful cocktail even without the incubus poison. It left him wanting more, a pitiful whimper slipping out as the fiend pulled back again, denying him any more.

“Oh you are so very delicious when you are desperate. I wonder what it sounds like when you beg ~” They taunted, passing the dagger from their hand to their tail subtly, allowing their talons to run a course up his bare chest instead now. “But I want to hear more, more of the dead with their stories. Bring them out, the ones who would suffer most to feel my embrace.” 

This…was more agreeable. The cheaters, the homewreckers, every degenerate he could think of began to scream as he dragged them to the fore.

—

Haarlep felt the balance in their palms, being careful in how they toyed with their prey. Their aphrodisiac would reach its peak in both later, as it coursed deeper through their blood, spreading to every cell in their body to set them alight with desire. It had also reached the limit, it was time to begin playing more by Abdirak’s rules.

Their claw tore a hot line across the elf’s chest, the knife in their tail gliding across the human’s tense shoulder at the same time. The combination of the approving moan and the call of a name; a vile adulterer, by their own account as the Shadar-Kai’s magic flashed dark eyes bright green. 

The dagger continued to tease more softly, the cold of the blade refusing the sharper edge of bliss, while their hands sought to dig more viscerally into pale flesh above. Their wings fluttered with bliss at the sound of another sin, the soul near screaming out to be released into the hells instead of dragged out for the twisted masochist’s pleasures. That one had let their neighbour’s barn and all their goods burn to ash while they stole away the bliss of the neighbour’s spouse a mile away, giving no warning of the smoke they saw. 

Haarlep could taste the arousal in the air, in the way the Shadar-Kai squirmed against the restraints, his lover mercilessly teasing him close to the edge but pulling back before he could finish. They made a mental note to thank the man more properly later, as they rewarded him for now with a sharp cut along his waist. 

—

Abdirak felt the cut, the line of blood trickling out, the searing bliss of pain spreading in a wave that washed through him, sharpening his mind. But the game was to change once more. The incubus pulled him back a little, giving slack to the rope enough for his back to be slightly eased. This was no mercy, however, as they brought the leaking tip of his lover to his lips. 

“Do you wish to taste him, sweet priest, to feel the burn as he fills your throat? Do you want to grant him the agony of your teeth in his flesh as you feel his pulse on your tongue?” Haarlep teased, but still demanded an answer in their tone.

He nodded, the easy obedience of parting his lips as the incubus caressed the line of his jaw with the slightest cut from their claw.

There was a whispered moan above him as he tilted his head back further to take He Who Was fully between his lips, feeling a wonderful ache quickly rise in his jaw, the promised burn taking his throat as the elf’s hips moved of their own accord.

Haarlep stroked his neck now, the slightest pinch of a cut piercing just the top layers of skin, taking a moment to feel the intrusion through the way his throat shifted to accommodate the man above.

—

He who was bound and desperate could hardly believe the sight, one he couldn’t tear his eyes away from. He could feel Haarlep’s gentle and firm grip on Abdirak’s neck even through the hard swallow that pulled him deeper into his lover’s mouth, his hips rocking forwards again.

Had he more control, it would be his hands there, holding, perhaps pulling at silvered hair to set his own pace, maybe a crop in his other hand to deliver sharp blows that would have the priest’s body writhing and moaning around him…

But it was Haarlep there leaving deep claws lines in an already scarred shoulder, it was their lips that bit down on the fresh wounds, and their tail that whipped around while he was distracted. 

“S’vyna!” He panted as the strike drove his hips forward with a harder force, feeling his lover’s voice rumble deeply in a way that nearly sent him over the edge before the sin could be revealed by the punished dead.

Haarlep struck again without break or warning. 

“Killed her lovers in jealous rage!” He cried out, the deepest agony of the soul spilled from his lips at the same moment his lust spilled down his lover’s throat in agonisingly powerful waves of pleasure that felt close to ripping his own soul from his lungs. 

—

Haarlep drank in the pleasure as greedily as Abdirak drank the elf’s climax, the choked gasping of He Who Was following the last sinner’s confession providing the perfect garnish to a well seasoned meal.

“ Haarlep- ”

Their wings quivered with bliss, satisfied with their name reaching their ears. Although…they had forgotten the promise made earlier, that their own sin would follow. And in doing so, they didn’t even hear the whisper that crept out behind the breathless moan.

“That,” they purred, as they carefully helped the human ease back, soothing his neck with a warm caress, “was decadent .” 

They let the Shadar-Kai catch his breath, slumping forwards slightly and straining against the chains shackling his wrists, kneeling instead to release Abdirak from the rope’s embrace. They helped him to his feet, ensuring he was steady before turning back to the elf on the wall. 

“Thank you, Little Raven~ Your song is quite beautiful when you’ve a mind to sing it. I should hope to hear it again another time, perhaps with the melody that our sweet priest can play upon your body with far more interesting tools.” They lowered the chain, working easily with Abdirak to free his wrists and ankles.

“After all that, you’re leaving so soon?” He Who Was found his voice again, though the edge of venom was remarkably diluted by the afterglow of pleasure that had left his pale skin flush.

“Was that not satisfying? I had assumed you would rather have your time alone, and I have other dishes to sample from my banquet tonight.” They grinned wickedly, pulling Abdirak against them in a swift embrace. “Unless you would rather share? I can hold him here, steal his kiss, take his pleasure while you give him the pain he so desperately desires?”

Abdirak’s back was against their chest, one arm wrapped around his waist and the other taking a firm grip of his chin, holding him like a prize.

“See, you could leave your marks all across his body while I claim him from within~” They teased with a laugh, wings spreading behind them, tail slapping the ground as they dared the naked and enraged elf to deny them. “You would earn every pained scream for his maiden, I would swallow his pleasured moans-” 

“Enough, Haarlep.” Abdirak finally spoke, his voice stern, the incubus’s name issued like a command. 

They released him, but not without leaving one last fresh scratch down the centre of his back. “Spoilsport,” they complained, “but I did not plan on consuming your entire evening. My curiosity is sated, and I should think you have a good few hours yet to satisfy one another. He was rather greedy for that last kiss, sweet priest, you may finally meet a match besides me~”

Chapter Text

He Who Was glared at the incubus even as they left, their hips swaying suggestively, tail swishing happily behind them. “That was…” 

“Deeply enjoyable, Dear One, but their touch is one of lust alone.” Abdirak closed the gap between them, pressing a finger to his lips. “They feed their own hunger, but we have ours, do we not? Your words held promise, you do not seem to be a man who would break it.” 

He kissed the fingertip that had lingered there, the temptation to bite overruled by the greater one to bring his priest everything he wanted. “Broken promises are for the dead and the damned, not for us.”

“Then your wish is my command, Dear One.” The promise of the words alone raised his pulse again, drawing him in to steal a kiss from lips that still held the taste of his own passion.

He slipped his hands to the clasps of belts and robes, impatient to feel Abdirak’s warm body completely, even as their lips remained pressed together. The incubus’s last kiss challenged every remaining shred of his self control, but he had no intention of backing out of what he had suggested earlier.

This body, strong, hardened edges, decorated with scars like a tapestry of devotion…it would become the offering to Loviatar that her priest so desperately wished it to be. Though whether the cries would be devoted to the deity or to He Who Was…he who wasn’t sure which he would prefer, so long as those lungs breathed only pleasure and pain in equal measure.

—

The Shadar-Kai finally broke away, leaving Abdirak wanting for more - not that he would show it, of course. Desperation did not suit his nature, unless the circumstances became intense. He was not one to beg nor to cry, his voice might raise in joy to his goddess but only when it was right. 

The elf took hold of his wrist with a firm grasp, leading him to where 2 simple posts stood from the floor. They were thick wood, secured into the stone, with metal rings at several key points. They might have looked like decorative columns, stretched up to the ceiling and secured at the top, but their purpose was clear to those who approached now.

He Who Was gave his commands with a low and softened voice, deep, lightly breathy with desire. “Here, stand between them. You will make a perfect display, priest, have no fear of that, but I intend to take my time.” 

“As you wish, Dear One.” He smiled, already standing with his feet shoulder width apart, hands held away from his body just as he was bidden. His mind stilled as he felt the leather straps buckled to his wrists and ankles, rope looped through to hold them in place to the posts on either side. He felt the tug in his shoulders from the angle his arms were kept, the tension ensuring they could not move in any direction now.

Abdirak remained in place as He Who Was went to one of the tables and sought a selection of tools, keeping them wrapped in a cloth where he couldn’t see. The smile on the elf’s face told him that he would not be disappointed. Neither would Loviatar…

—

He Who Was brought a small table within reach behind Abdirak, ensuring that his plans would remain unseen. A thick collar was the next, shaped leather contoured like a brace. He traced his fingers up the back of the priest’s neck, delighting in the slight shiver beneath the softest touch.

“You have no need to be cautious, Dear One.” A soft complaint in the response, yet not moving towards or away from the contact, even as the hand slid forwards to be replaced by his lips. 

“Do not mistake this for tenderness.” He bit down gently for a moment, taking a firmer grip over the priest’s throat as he did. “You will feel every nerve in your body sing for your Maiden, but only when I allow it.” 

His touch was replaced with the hardened leather collar, long and shaped like a corset to cover the top of Abdirak’s shoulders to just below the chin. It was not tight, just firm enough to be felt as he laced the back with care. The rings on either side allowed for his head to be held firmly in place between the posts.

“You know, Dear One, had you wanted me motionless your words alone would be enough.” Abdirak’s shoulders moved in a steady rhythm with slow and steady breaths. “Although I can’t deny it is a pleasant feeling to be held as if by your own hands.” 

He Who Was felt the tips of his ears colour with a hint of blush, pressing his fingers along the front of the collar and feeling his lover’s throat move with a slight swallow. “A pity I don’t have enough hands of my own to take its place.”

—

Abdirak felt cool fingertips begin to explore the lines of his back, following the pale marks of old scars, rewarding him with a little pressure on newer bruises. The sigh that left him was like one that an ordinary person might make when reclining in a hot bath, the feeling of a soft ache just as pleasant, especially from the cool fingers of the man behind him.

He was surprised to feel the almost imperceptible sting of a fine needle next, tapped into his muscle in a precise position to reach his nerve. “You are teasing me, Dear One.” He smiled, relishing the feeling of the next being pressed firmly in place. 

“Perhaps. Are you dissatisfied?” 

“Only if you stop.”

“Only if you tell me to.” He Who Was ran a hand down his side, pressing his nails into the delicate flesh to draw out another deep and satisfied sigh from his lips, before leaning in close to his ear with a growl. “And do believe me, only you would be capable of ending this before I am done. The gods could not tear me away from turning your voice from a whisper to a roar. I cannot wait to see how you sound when your devotions are most pure…”

His touch was gone as soon as it came, leaving behind a far deeper ache in its wake, until the next sting of a needle brought his focus back to tracing the pattern of them in his mind. From his shoulders and down his arms, along the sides of his back - but avoiding his spine, of course - and continuing down the back of his legs. These were not the choices of an amateur, each needle was precise, placed with purpose. 

Abdirak felt each move slightly as if something were being wound around the top of the needles. Thread, perhaps? If the elf wished to make a tapestry of him, he might prefer something deeper, something that would sew the wire through his skin - ah…that was it, wire. The tension and weight on the needles confirmed it. 

“Oh, there is one more thing…” The Shadar-Kai spoke with an edge of wickedness in his voice now. “You will not find it so easy to sing your praise to your goddess tonight. Work for it, earn her favour.”

Without a chance to argue, though he was not certain he would, Abdirak felt the elf’s hand caressing his cheek, moving forward to part his lips and press on his tongue firmly with a cool thumb.

“Good. If you do not want this, tug your rope thrice.” He Who Was echoed Haarlep’s words from before, albeit slightly altered. “Three would be too many now, would it not? We only need the two of us.”

The taste of hardened leather followed, the ball of the gag fitting neatly where the elf’s thumb had been, blocking his tongue from forming any words. His teeth bit slightly into the material as the strap secured behind his head.  

“I will not forbid you from making noise at all, I am not cruel . But if you want Loviatar to hear you, well. I shall work hard to ensure your ecstasy from the agony is not able to be stopped by such a toy.” The words were followed by teeth, gently biting the edge of his ear, raising the already searing desire burning through his veins. 

The last piece of the plan slid into place, a soft leather blindfold lined with dark fur. The world was plunged into darkness, touch and sound the only sensations left to him, already feeling the slight press on a needle more sharply as He Who Was tested the pull of the wire.

—

He Who Was stepped back a pace, admiring the view. Abdirak’s body was tense, despite how calm he seemed. The lines of the human’s muscles were clear in the flickering torchlight, a beautiful sight of skin marked with a hundred devotions…ones that he intended to add to.

The gauntlet he had found was the perfect addition to his plans. Sharpened steel with jointed fingers like a glove, but the fastenings left the pads of his fingers free to touch and feel, though the claws protruding over where his nails were would be far less gentle. The light glinted off the vicious edges like razors… Perfect , he thought to himself, I can leave my mark properly tonight.

His bare feet had near silent steps as he walked around to face the bound priest next, leaving the wire and needles where they were, but keeping the loose ends of the wire wrapped in the fingers of his free hand. The one with the gauntlet was already reaching out to touch his prize, letting only his fingertips graze against the human’s chest. He was warm, slight pink tint of blush across parts of his exposed body, the anticipation already showing where the rest of his blood was beginning to gather below. 

He Who Was allowed one claw to cut a shallow and fine line just below Abdirak’s collarbone, earning a quiet and needy whine from around the gag. “Just a taste.” He kissed the wound, licking the drop of blood and savouring the noise that drew forth. “I hope your Maiden can hear your whispers.”

He returned to his game, the soft tips of his fingers tapping little rhythms, stroking softly, only allowing the slightest of cuts from the gauntlet’s claws. Tiny red lines, some barely even drawing blood, began to lace their way across Abdirak’s bared body, patterns more beautiful than the finest portrait - at least to the artist’s mind. 

—

The need built with every sensation, the heat of the cuts barely enough to keep the cool from chilling his skin, but Abdirak was already feeling how minute by minute the pain was building. It was slow, deliberate, balanced by gentle touch. He Who Was had no sense of being timid, he could tell that much, there was a feeling that the elf wanted more, to give him every agony he desired…but that wouldn’t hold the same passion. 

His body was held still, barely able to move within the bindings, until the first sparks reached the needles. 

His back tried to arch, head held firm by the posture collar around his neck, wrists and ankles straining at the wood as the lightning passed through the wire into every needle in the back of his body.

He bit out a low moan around the gag, every nerve pathway on fire with a flash of agony but only for an instant. The shock was gone as quickly as it came, leaving his muscles tense and twitching from the stimulation. 

“You writhe so beautifully.” He Who Was whispered in his ear, low and deep. “I’ll give you everything you want and more, so when pain reaches its peak, let every god and devil hear you sing out.”

Abdirak grunted a soft response, the ball keeping his tongue from saying everything he wished he could. Yes, Dear One! , the words echoed in his mind alone, show me the very meaning of exquisite agony, bring me to my knees as I stand before you!

—

He Who Was could not tell what it was that the priest wished to say, but his body was speaking clearly enough without words. 

He trailed his hand along Abdirak’s bare shoulder as he walked behind him again, claws digging in for just a moment to reward him with another flash of pain. He wondered briefly what it was like, to be able to enjoy the pain alone without a thousand guilty voices swimming in his head, but that was not for tonight. The priest gave more than enough of himself, his own burdens needed release.

The metal easily cut more marks between the needles, a few deeper marks allowing blood to drop onto the wire before the next coursing current of the Shocking Grasp could pass through them. This time he could see far better, how the muscles beneath the needles tightened and shook, the electricity forcing the fibres to contract and spasm through the connection with the nerves.

He let it last longer each time, drawing it out, not letting Loviatar’s beloved get used to the gift of her pain that he desired so deeply. More fine cuts added to the senses, skin turning deep pink at the edge of each line, the sound of his bound lover’s voice getting gradually louder around the gag every time but still far from their peak. 

—

Blood was not the only thing beginning to drip to the floor from Abdirak’s wrought form, sweat trickling along his limbs in thin rivulets that chased along the lines of muscles and scars. And although nothing was touching the rigid proof of his passionate enjoyment of the torment, even that was beginning to drip from the pleasure of pain’s embrace.

Yet as he got used to the pattern, the depth of sensation, he began to sink into the comfort of it all. Had his eyes been open his vision would be clouded at the edges, unfocused, dropping into the space between agony and bliss that held him close like a warm blanket-

He howled around the gag, loud enough to be close to a muffled scream, as a bucket of hot - and what he swiftly realised was also salted - water doused the wounds on his back.

In an instant the pain was white hot, not through a burn but from the change in sensation, the salt scorching into wounds as the temperature of the water itself was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room.

“That’s right, let your maiden hear you, let me hear you.” He Who Was had an edge of sadistic glee in his voice, warmed by a genuine affection he tried to hide within the words. “You can be louder than this.” 

The extra effort of the gag made everything more enticing, a challenge, both to his endurance and his devotions. He wanted to beg, to plead to have the ball removed from his tongue so Loviatar might properly hear him abide by agony’s sweetest caress, but to be denied… 

The game became more clear. The teasing touch, the edge of softness, the harsh burn of pain that barely reached the pitch he so desperately wished for - this was its own torment. When he was permitted the climax of tender torture he would feel every second of it blazing through his soul.

He wondered what that might be, just as the next wave of shock reached the wire.

—

The water was highly conductive. This time the shock did not remain in the wire and needles, but instead spread across Abdirak’s skin in a momentary web of blinding blue light. The moan was positively obscene with passion, the bound priest’s entire body convulsing against the restraints.

Before the sensation could fade, He Who Was stepped in close and sliced along the line of barely visible ribs with all the claws at once, chasing the first scream with a second that came out louder, shorter, leaving Abdirak panting and breathless.

He drank it all in, delighted at the way he could make the strong and calm priest quiver with need as he once again withdrew the sensation. The water mingled with blood as it dripped across exposed skin, beginning to prickle with goosebumps as it cooled.

Thus the next part was ready. Flesh that was pink from the heat quickly darkened as the next cantrip chilled the water to a thick layer of frost. Delicate white was soon dyed red with two new streaks of blood drawn over Abdirak’s heart by the pointed claws of the Shadar-Kai’s gauntlet, this time digging deeper than they had before to wring another deep and satisfied moan from the lungs beneath.

Another cut and the blood was already melting away the chill in crimson streaks, the final jolt of lightning through the wires burning away the frost before a swift yank on the wire ripped the needles from his nerves.

—

It was exhilarating - the cry that tore through his throat was barely held back by the gag as Abdirak’s entire body responded to the onslaught of pain. It was a struggle now to keep his body from losing strength and letting only the rope hold him firm, but he had no intention of giving in to the exquisite torture that was blooming swiftly into the soft and numbing heat of pure bliss.

His mind grew blurry at the edges, the warm and comforting release of the internal suffering into the external offering to Loviatar. Oh how he wished he could make his voice louder, but knowing he was able to be heard despite every attempt to keep it back… He could feel the sweet bliss of her blessing washing over him, as he moaned the depths of his devotions again through the claws dancing across the burned holes the needles left behind. 

His bones and muscles ached deeply from the exertion of the position, the tension that bore through him like a drill, and he could not want for more.

—

He Who Was watched with fascination as Abdirak remained almost motionless, never straining on the ropes for freedom, not giving any signal to stop. He wondered what those steel blue eyes looked like behind the blindfold… 

He lifted the leather away, kissing closed eyelids with tender care even as his clawed thumb pierced deep into the priest’s shoulder.

Abdirak blinked a few times once the pain had subsided, pupils wide at first but quickly narrowing in the light, eventually finding a balance as they searched his face for the answer of what came next. 

“This has been…exhilarating. You have been so patient, more than I would have been in your place.” He smiled, his un-clawed hand caressing Abdirak’s jaw still held wide by the gag, smoothing his hair away from his eyes. “A little more, I will allow you to call out the fullest depths of your penance for me, then I will set you free.” The sharp edges of the gauntlet sliced easily through the strap holding the gag in place, careful not to cut hair or skin. His free hand withdrew the leather ball with care, fingertips lingering on his lips for a long moment.

“Dear One,” Abdirak gasped, finally able to take deeper breaths into his lungs, “the pain you have gifted me has already set me free .” 

“Your burdens…have been eased?” His reply was more tentative than he had intended, softened by the concern that his ministrations might not be sufficient melting away with the smile that formed on scarred lips. He gently massaged the ache from the priest’s jaw for a moment, thumb tracing small circles as his gloved hand could not resist winding around his lover’s waist to draw him in as he closed the gap between their bodies. 

“I would gladly give my body to your loving hand any night you wish.” Abdirak smiled, pale eyes catching the light like the true opposite to those that gazed back at him with their pure black stare, softened with affection. “And I would be equally as pleased to punish the guilty within you. Do they trouble you now?”

He Who Was paused to think for a moment, clawed thumb caressing the just above Abdirak’s hip, light touch soothing one of the many scratches on soft skin, pressing just a little to grant his lover the gift of a fresh sting. “They are…stilled. I admit, I did not expect that.” The hand, which had remained on the human’s scarred cheek, slipped around behind his head, cradling the back of his neck above the collar as he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

—

There was a gentle passion to He Who Was that continued to surprise Abdirak. Beyond the names that he carried, beyond their guilt, there was a man who truly understood everything of suffering. Punishing the sinful was not merely sadism, nor was it only masochism to experience the pain alongside them. The guilty had to suffer because of what they had done, the harm they had caused. 

His thoughts frayed at the edges as their kiss deepened, bodies pressed close together, the remnants of Haarlep’s influence still very clearly present below the waist.

The rope holding one arm was released as the clawed glove sliced away the fibres, enough freedom for him to curl it around and caress the cool and pale back of the elf who sought to taste the passion dancing across his tongue with more urgency. 

“Dear One,” he whispered as their lips parted, “you are truly astonishing.” 

“Soft words for one such as you.” The elf smirked, though the tips of his ears showed the depth behind the deflection.

“As you have well proven, there is a particular delight that makes the pain ever deeper with a more tender touch between.” He strained against the collar just enough to press their foreheads together. “You understand it all, Dear One, better than any I have ever known.” 

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long for the ropes and bindings to be removed, leaving the pair completely bared and strolling towards the simple bed. The Shadar-Kai walked behind, allowing himself to be led and admiring the view - the multicoloured patterns still marked Abdirak’s body most beautifully. The reddened lines of lightning burns traced constellations between the swollen needle pricks, a marbled design that showed the tracks of nerves that had withstood intense stimulation. He noticed, however, that the man’s hips swayed a little differently to usual, his weight and movements almost imperceptibly off-kilter.  

The sharpened gauntlet had been carefully discarded already, as He Who Was decided he would far rather feel the shared sting of impact in his own palms. Primitive, perhaps, but not if done well. By the time the priest was on his hands and knees atop dark silk sheets, he was losing any patience he had left to not take him up in his arms there and then. But first things first, except-

“Well, well, what have we here?”  From this angle he could see the shine of metal, a distinct flared shape protruding from the destination on his mind. “Have you had this here the whole time?” 

Abdirak smiled, unseen, as He Who Was began to toy with the plug, still slick with oil that it helped hold within. “I had thought, hoped , that you might wish for something a little different today. Was I wrong, Dear One?”

“You were not…” He continued to move the toy with languid motion, enjoying the softened breathy moans from his beloved priest. “Do you not think it presumptuous?... Although I must admit, this does make things easier.” 

“Indeed. To some degree it is a wise decision to be fully prepared when strolling into the home of an incubus, though I am glad this is reserved only for you and I.” The calm in Abdirak’s voice was barely disturbed by lust’s heated breaths, but it was still there. 

He Who Was knelt behind, running his fingers lightly along the burns from lightning’s magic-infused kiss, drawing out the pain anew with the teasing touch. Reaching the top of marked thighs, he pulled back and struck with an open palm. The sting burned though his own fingers, the skin where they had slapped hard leaving long pink streaks on a quickly heating body. 

It was the most intimate and loving pain, a literal measured hand punishing Abdirak as directly as he could. Impact that was bruising as much in the giving as the receiving, the shared burn of the resonating hit, the sounds each time echoing around the room as he pulled the oiled plug and refilled the emptiness with his other hand. 

Feeling the priest’s body react both inside and out was intoxicating, the squeeze of muscles contracting in pleasure, the shudder of ecstasy in pain, and of course his voice.

“Yes, Dear One! Let me feel everything you will give me, bring my anguish to the apex of torment!” 

That glorious, exuberant voice, calling out, echoing around the room. The agony was not overwhelming, it was hardly the most extreme of sensations, but every nerve had already been set alight. That beautifully blood-streaked body quivered with oversensitivity without needing to do more, easily taking everything that he offered with pleasured breaths almost misting the air with desire. 

He Who Was leaned over his lover, his cool chest pressing against a back that was hot with blood rushing just below the surface of the skin, fuelled with the adrenaline of danger’s delight. “Are you ready for your final punishment?” 

“Do not hold back.” 

Four words that stoked the fire within to a heat beyond anything the hells had witnessed, spoken with a voice that dripped with lust and need. 

—

Abdirak felt those slender fingers withdraw, moving to grip his hips with bruising force. His sigh betrayed the joy at feeling the wounds caressed, reopened at the same moment that He Who Was filled him with passion anew in one smooth motion bringing their bodies together. 

The blood was not the only fluid leaking onto the sheets. Lust dripping from desperation without release, eyes watering from the swiftly set pace hitting deeper with every motion.

And still the Shadar-Kai would not deprive his body of touch for a single moment, as relentless in the devotion to adoration as to agony. There was nothing but worship in the soft whisper of fingertips brushing lightly over skin, in the bruising grip on aching muscles, in the edge of a nail raking open a cut as it tried to close. 

He could feel patterns painted in the sensations burning along his back, the art of agony in the blood smeared across his skin, and he sang out an answering symphony as he encouraged more, and more still-

—

He Who Was could feel the desperation and hedonism blending in a cocktail he needed more of. As much as he enjoyed being on the other side, being the one to draw such delicious noises - ah. Perhaps he who was so dismissive of the incubus was beginning to understand the fiend after all. He felt as if this moment could sustain him for a week…but the intensity was drawing him closer to an end he did not want like this.

He pulled out, hooking his arm under Abdirak’s knee and body to flip him over, landing none too softly on the bed that protested the motion even when the priest did not. 

“I want to see you, to feel you, to know every last devotion is reaching your maiden…reaching you .” His own voice was low, deep, a husky whisper of pure need as he lifted the priest’s ankles over his shoulders and folded the man in half as he thrust inside once more. 

He was rewarded immediately by his favourite wicked smile, pale eyes blazing with desire, voice calling out every time he chose a new area to torment. 

Not one inch of Abdirak’s body was left untouched. Impact from an open palm, the strong pinch of fingertips seeking sensitive areas, harsher thumbs pressing into joints and muscles to bring out that deeper ache that would bloom into adrenaline’s kiss. 

By the time he felt his climax building to the point he could no longer hold back, both of their voices were hoarse. He pressed forward, folding his lover in half to bring them as close as possible, matching the pace of his thrusts with grip soaked in oil and blood. His other hand was on Abdirak’s shoulder, both leaning on him and digging his fingers deep into strong flesh to ground himself in case his entire soul escaped the moment he crashed over the edge into blissful release.  

—

Breathless, it took several minutes for either to recover. They lay pressed together in bliss, Loviatar’s priest utterly saturated with pain’s sweetest refrain singing the echoes of its chorus through his whole body.

The Shadar-Kai above him was coloured pink with exertion and ecstasy, dark eyes meeting his own with a look that mirrored his lasting euphoria. “Your face…” 

“It is the same one I have always had, Dear One.” He blinked, perplexed by the heavy whisper. 

“I should like to see more of it, like this.” 

His laughter was as soft as his touch as he reached up to caress the stray hair from the elf’s forehead, taking a moment to kiss each dot of the tattoos on his pale skin. “As I would enjoy more of yours. Come, let us heal, together. Perhaps there might be time yet if you needed more of your own pain-”

“You have given me more than enough.” He Who Was took hold of his hand, pausing its path. “You are right, we should rest. There is a meal prepared, after all. Would it not be a shame to see it go to waste?” 

—

The next few hours were spent relaxing in the warm healing waters of the baths, though there were two marks that Abdirak would not allow to be washed away. One was a deep scratch over his heart, the other was the darkening mark upon his shoulder that marked the powerful grip that had held on through the throes of passion’s overwhelming peak. 

“You wish to keep them?” He Who Was asked, tracing over them with his lips as they lay to rest on fresh sheets.

“I do.” Abdirak replied simply, kissing the top of his head with similar tenderness. “There is meaning to these, and though the bruise will fade in time, I should like to remember it for as long as I can.”

“I did not take you for a romantic when first we met.” 

“But do you take me now?”

“I believe I already did that much.” 

The pair fell to soft laughter, laying back to rest in each others arms. “Then I shall return the favour next time.”

“Do not leave it so long before our next visit, before next I can hear your voice…”

“Dear One?”

“A sending, each week. I am not so greedy for penance as to require your constant presence…” He Who Was stopped for a moment, however, his hand finding a light grip on Abdirak’s upper arm once more, thumb gently but purposefully pressing on the bruise. “But your line of work is more dangerous than most. Should you fall, I would not be disappointed to find at least a little guilt in your heart to collect.”

“Then I shall be sure to commit the most grievous sin, so you may spend an eternity punishing my soul from beyond the grave, Dear One, that our shared pain might never find an end.”