Break

He wondered if all the time he spent with Sirona in the future would be filled with such surprises. When the plants had started to grow around her, taking on an unnatural green glow, he’d thought about the vision of the fallen star. Seeing it all wither and decay so quickly without feeling a shift in energy in the area had surprised him further.
A bit of trepidation filled him at how quickly and seemingly easily she’d forced the garden to die, but he pushed it away. Having so much power, but not knowing how to control it or how to know when people are trying to manipulate you made having so much power pointless.
Besides, Druid’s garden was heartier than most. With a bit of time, it would return to normal even without a little help.
Sirona’s eyes darted around nervously as he shook his head and walked towards her.
“I suppose bad magic fluxes even affect the gardens of wise hermits.”
Her eyes widened, “A bad magic flux?”
He shrugged, “It happens. Sometimes, there are plants with such bad temperaments, they put the whole garden out of commission. They die pretty quickly. It will pass.”
She seemed to relax in relief as he sent a bit of magic towards the edges of the garden. The wave of magic she’d sent out with her panicked command stopped and fizzled out. The plants at the edge of the garden stopped wilting.
The wispy ghouls retreated into the shadows as the scent of death and decay began to fade.
Sirona gave out a relieved huff and flopped onto the bare earth in the center of the garden.
He chuckled, “How about a break while the garden gets over its mood?”
He lowered himself to sit beside her, careful to make sure their sides were touching from hip to ankle. Her face turned red and she tried to scoot away.
“Oh, I don’t think I should. I still have to figure out how to undo all of this.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that,” Arawn said, gesturing through the air and summoning a glass of cold tea. He offered it to her, “A drink? Perhaps it will calm you a bit?”
Her eyes sparkled with wonder as she took the drink and shivered. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her a bit closer, resting his chin on her shoulder and breathing in her scent. She smelled good like warm power and that depth he’d felt before seemed a little closer to the surface and richer somehow.
She drank and glanced at Arawn’s face, “Are you… always like this?”
“Like what?”
“So close to everyone you meet?”
Arawn hummed, “Not everyone. Can you imagine me being this close to Druid?”
Sirona snorted, “Well, I can, but it is very odd-looking.”
“I assure you, Druid and I have never been this close and never will be.” He slipped his hand onto her thigh, “What has you out working in the garden today, little flower?”
Sirona sipped quietly, “I just wanted to get my mind off things.”
Namely him, yet here he was entrancing her with his scent and feel. She leaned back into him feeling a bit tired and let her gaze drift over the mostly dead garden.
“I see. Well, perhaps some current news would help. Berth has claimed another victory in the south,” he said. “I believe Conna’s exports have gone down, but I think that is due to the warpath they’re taking across the continent.”
Sirona froze, barely breathing as she listened to him.
“With the death of the duke of Gunning, it’s no wonder. I imagine they’ll be in the throes of civil war before the end of the year at this rate.”
“You think so?” Sirona asked softly.
He nodded, “Jakon was a good man.”
She turned, look up at him sharply, “You knew my father?”
Arawn couldn’t believe how easy this was. She was so distracted, he doubted that she could feel him probing her inner light to get a better sense of her power. It was getting frustrating because he couldn’t figure out much more than he already had, but at least, he got the opportunity to enjoy the curves of a beautiful woman.
Arawn’s eyes widened, “You’re his daughter?”
Sirona’s face heated and she looked away, “I mean… my father’s name was Jakon. It is a common enough name.”
Arawn nodded, pulling her back against him, “Well, that may be true enough, but Jakon, the duke of Gunning was not a common man. I cannot imagine that his people will not rise up eventually. They say his daughter is still missing.”
Sirona nodded, thoughtfully. Her father had been heads and shoulders above common men, not just because of his title. He’d been a good man who had died at the hands of a tyrant.
The injustice infuriated her.
“My apologies,” Arawn said. She looked at him as he gave her a small smile of concern. “I should not have brought it up. I would not have if I had known how much it would distress you.”
He plucked the glass from her hand, “Perhaps we should speak of better things.”
“Better things?” She asked as he turned his gaze on her.
His gaze slipped down her body and he tightened his grip on her hip, “I would think the pleasures a man and woman could find together would certainly be better than speaking of Anu’s Herald’s activities.”
He kissed her neck as she squirmed under the ticklish feeling, “Perhaps talk of such things might excite you a bit more. Should we pretend we are in a place where a bit of indulgence is so frowned upon?”
Sirona shivered. There was something deliciously defiant about the thought. Fooling around was done in hidden places and never truly spoken of. If a daughter’s purity came under question, she’d be subject to tests at the temple and cleansings. Sirona knew that they were horrible, but after everything the cult of Anu had done to her life, a bit of defiance felt a little like revenge.
Arawn leaned over her, kissing her roughly and running his hands over her body. Her heart was racing, allowing him to touch her as he pleased and whisper.
“What would the priests say, little flower?” Arawn asked against her neck, slotting himself between her legs. “Best to be quiet or we may get caught.”
She almost laughed at his playful smile before he kissed her again. The nervous pleasurable feeling in her stomach was growing as he rolled his hips against hers. She felt the hard line of his arousal pressing into her as they kissed.
She shivered as Arawn groped her breast. She was overwhelmed at the sensations and the heat of his body against hers. She felt dizzy and out of control as she clung to him, nervous about how far he would go and excited to learn more.
“They say Jakon was killed for heresy and conspiracy against the crown. Who knows what will happen to the duchess despite her history?”
Sirona gasped and pushed him back to look up at him, “She’s still alive?”
Arawn frowned looking at her, “Why?”
“Please, just tell me,” Sirona said, “It’s important.”
Arawn wasn’t surprised to hear her say that. He had expected as much, yet telling her that the woman she thought was her mother was not only alive but the reason that her father was dead, was bound to cause an issue.
Would she melt into tears? Would she want to go after her mother?
Maybe she wouldn’t believe him.
Either way, it was more beneficial to him to keep as quiet as possible about her mother’s state for as long as possible.
The more that Sirona wanted to know, the easier it would be to manipulate her with little tidbits of truth.
Sirona stared up at him. He hadn’t said anything in several moments and fear began to claw at her. Did he not know? Maybe he knew and it was terrible. Was she dead or worse? Was he considering not telling her because she’d broken the mood? Maybe he didn’t know, but if he knew enough about Gunning’s fall, then he could probably find out, couldn’t he?
“Please tell me everything. I-I could pay you or something,” Sirona said looking up at him, “Please. You’re the only person who seems to know much of anything about what’s happened.”
He lifted off of her and looked down into her eyes. She hoped that her pleas were clear enough for him to understand how much this meant to her.
“How much is such information worth to you?” Arawn asked, lifting an eyebrow at her. “What are you offering in exchange?”
His gaze was warm and inviting, almost seductive. Sirona licked her lips. Her heart hammering at the thought of what he would ask for.
Another kiss? Would he ask for sex?
Was she willing to pay that price for information?
“…Anything.”