12 Works found in Dozilva do Baru
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He'd guessed perhaps he would be dealing with youthful heartbreak, but this was much worse. Xandhil was curled into a fetal ball on the bed, naked and sobbing, and Arek took in at a glance the fresh, blistering burns in patterns of fingerprints and lips, the singed feathers, the bruises and drying blood on his pale skin. Xan looked up at him, blue eyes ringed with red, helpless and desperate, and Arek's maternal instincts drove him to his child's side to kneel beside him and stroke his sweat-tangled hair. "Xan," he told him, "I'm here, let me help."
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Dozilva lowered the blade, letting its flat rest against his chest, warming it to his body temperature. "It will hurt," she said, explaining to Arek as much as to him, "but the physical pain allows the heart to better understand its own hurts. Pain is part of life, never far away, and we have the strength to endure it, move within it, acknowledge it, and then let it go. You're going to let this go, Sanadhil."
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"Ilyana," called the matron, beckoning the child over. She came obediently to stand before them. "This is M. and Mme. Orecalo." Sanadhil did not bother to correct her, either on the pronunciation or on the technicalities of his and Dozilva's relationship. "They are going to take you home now."
The little girl stared up at them with enormous green eyes. Elven eyes, San thought, although apart from her hair the child could have passed for fully human. True, her skin was unusually pale, and her ears tapered ever so slightly, but she would be able to blend in. "Home?" she said uncertainly.
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Liird's master claimed her three times.
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The Shadow Plane was strange in many ways - perhaps most significantly, no one paid very much attention to Rhyl when he arrived there.
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- 2,287
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 22
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Arek stood with his - her - back to the door, wings neatly folded. The same loose brown curls as always tumbled to her shoulders, making San wistful once more. Arek turned when he came in and gave him a smile that cheered him somewhat. "You're drenched, come over by the fire and warm up."
San did so, extending his hands towards the flames. "How was your day?"
"Oh, fine," Arek said idly. She came up behind Sanadhil and wrapped her arms around his waist.
"You'll get wet," San warned her.
"Mm, possibly, you do have that effect on me," she agreed playfully.
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It was a comfortable domestic scene: Arek was working quietly at the desk, laughing quietly to herself as she thought of new scrapes to force on the heroine of her latest novel; Dozilva had just returned from coaxing the two youngest boys into their afternoon nap, and was now listening to Sanadhil talk with quiet excitement about his latest research. In the center of the room a young boy appeared, bawling and falling instantly to his knees with a surprising amount of force, adding new pain to his general upset.
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Arek always managed to find a way to be elsewhere when Dozilva was using her knives.
- Words:
- 304
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Hits:
- 5
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It was obvious he couldn't leave Yanina to walk back to her rooms alone - she would wind up sleeping on a sofa or passed out in a hallway, or perhaps sucking the cocks of a dozen footmen, and that wouldn't do for the empress.
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There were many things about life in Diablotin that Sanadhil had to explain to Dozilva, but as it turned out, the function and nature of the Jewelbox was not one of them. "Oh," she had said, nodding sagely when he started to describe the high-class brothel, "it is a pleasure house." And that, it seemed was all the explanation she required, at least prior to their visit.
- Words:
- 3,510
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 1
- Hits:
- 105
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That was where she found him when she came home: lying on her bed, touching himself lightly, lost to lust and uncertainty. He sat up as she entered, smiling, wincing, and beckoning her closer.
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San didn't know what possessed him to buy Dozilva the flowers.
- Words:
- 347
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Bookmarks:
- 1
- Hits:
- 26