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Viren's chest aches. It's been aching for weeks. Ever since his skin had been carved open by the elf's knife. He doesn't want to admit his fear over bearing the rune, even as he had felt it heal, Aaravos weaving magic for the skin to knit itself back together. He wonders if the elf had been planning this all along. He chastises himself for being so trusting. What kind of power could this contain? He already made a blood pact with the elf, how much more could this connect the two of them? He's been feeling weaker lately. He hopes it's because of stress. He tumbles into bed with Aaravos after each long day, desperately attacking his mouth with his own. Viren's started to need his touch, whether a harsh one or a comforting one. He goes his days waiting for the time when they can be alone together in his bedchamber, his responsibilities far away. It's a problem. Especially since he can't see how Aaravos benefits from the arrangement. He knows, of course, that the stories about elves drinking blood are absolutely unfounded, but Aaravos' power makes him uneasy. How can someone access such power without sacrificing something equally great? He has never heard of a being mastering all arcanum. And no matter what research he tries to conduct, the name melts away, ruining book after book. His fear, his uneasiness, they all come from the idea that he may be the next. And the worst part of it all? He might even be falling for the elf, not that he'd ever admit it to himself.He feels like he's drowning sometimes, drowning in the shoes Harrow left behind, drowning in the power he's using to do it, drowning in the horrors he's done to get to where he is today. At the center of it all is Aaravos, for him, he holds the fear that the elf will break through these shackles that bind him and wreak havoc on the human lands. The elf's four fingered hand closes around his wrist. He realizes his hands have been visibly shaking. Warmth fills him, bringing with it soothing and calm. He hates it. He hates how gentle the elf is with him, even when he's hurting him. It's too hard to distrust him, even after all this suspicion. Is Aaravos manipulating him? Is he genuine? He doesn't think he'll ever find the answer, not until the elf tears apart his body to use him like an ingredient in the most potent magic.He realizes, with horror, one day that the spell Aaravos uses to clean after a night together makes the offending fluids vanish. But, as far as he, or anyone else knows, matter cannot be created or destroyed. Is Aaravos storing those parts of him? Keeping his blood and cum and tears for some potent magic? The thought makes Viren shiver with apprehension.Sometimes he notices the rune on his chest glowing white when he uses Aaravos' borrowed magic, both of their skin and eyes glowing in unison. Aaravos' magic courses through him like it belongs there, like their hearts beat as one, blood flowing through the same veins. The connection terrifies Viren. How deeply does it run?King or no king, regent or mage, Viren is still just human. And being human can be the most dangerous thing of all in this absolutely inhuman world. Viren tries to ask Aaravos about the rune, but every time he almost mentions it, the elf seals his lips with his own, ruining him until the thoughts are banished from his mind, remembered much later at times it would be impossible to ask. He looks through books in the middle of the night sometimes, waking up in secret to read by candlelight. The worst and best part of this arrangement is that Aaravos is always by his side, it's nearly impossible to find any private moments. But sometimes, the elf sleeps, and Viren tries to understand more about him. Despite all this intimacy, he still knows absolutely nothing about the elf, and it's just unsettling how much Aaravos knows about him in comparison. The oldest books might have some answers. Viren hides them in a pile of other spellbooks, carrying them all from the library back to his bedchamber, ignoring the pain stabbing through his bad knee the whole way up. It's not odd of him to bring books with him, Aaravos knows as well as anyone that his leg will never work like it used to when he was younger. Aaravos' eyebrow quirks, but he doesn't say anything about it. By the dying candlelight, Viren flips through page after page. Some passages speak of ancient fae, ancient even by the standards of these books, written thousands of years ago, the Aos Si, or the Sidhe, said to be ancestors of the spirits of nature, ancestors to the arcanum themselves. Viren pauses. He looks through another book. The use of the word elf came after fae, but they both refer to the same source, one word eventually replacing the use of the other. Viren's head is spinning. His anxiety and paranoia is bad at best, but this is making it spiral near out of control, like a raging dragon consuming him from head to toe. He keeps reading. It'll make it worse, but it might be even worse to stop. Fae cannot lie. Fae manipulate humans through cursed food and drink, binding them to the fae for all eternity. Fae are often divided into light and dark. Fae twist their words to manipulate and confuse, goals not entirely evil or good, and never apparent. Fae can be controlled by use of their true name, and giving your own true name to a fae makes it laughably easy for them to whisk you away from this mortal plane. He has to stop reading. This passage sounds... hauntingly familiar. There's nothing to be seen about runes but the inability to lie? The food and drink? Viren remembers the night in the secret cellar, drinking the magical wine. It was overly sweet, but irresistible, once Viren started to drink it, he easily drained the glass and wished there was more. His hand rests on his forehead. Aaravos would have to be millions of years old, not just thousands to be one of these fae. But maybe, maybe modern day elves are descendant from them. But Runaan seemed much closer to human than Aaravos... The only thing to do is confront the elf about it. He snaps the book closed, and blows out the candle. The room should be in complete darkness, but there's two glowing orbs coming from the direction of his bed. Viren's heart jumps into his throat. Aaravos gives a low chuckle, deep voice reverberating through the room. "Catching up on some light reading?" Viren watches the glowing orbs apprehensively. He knows. If Aaravos knows then he wanted Viren to find the information. He could have ruined the books, the way he erased any mention of his own name, but he let Viren read these. Why? Is the information not relevant to him? Does Aaravos want Viren to know about him? About what he is? Fear twists in his stomach.The glowing orbs appear to float higher, Aaravos is standing, purposefully walking towards Viren, like a damn panther. Before Viren can protest, he's pushed against the desk, books flying off and crashing onto the ground. The elf is so much taller than him, and god does that fact make itself apparent now. Aaravos is laughing, his deep voice vibrating against Viren's throat. "Silly human. To think you could understand in one night of reading what scholars have failed to learn for centuries." Viren doesn't have a single fucking clue what he means. He keeps silent, his breath certainly much more panicked than before. If he didn't know better, he'd think Aaravos can smell his fear. The elf's hands roam his body, and where Viren would usually melt into the touch, he's thinking too much, the words in the books swirling around in his head. "What are you?" Viren whispers, his heart jumping into his throat.Aaravos laughs again, his hand sliding between Viren's legs and squeezing his thigh. "Humans have always fascinated me. Your lives are so short, but still, you're willing to take the risk of ending it prematurely. Just to know something, too." He lets go, hands wandering to Viren's shirt, slowly undoing the buttons, as if daring Viren to stop him. The rune on his chest is glowing, the same color as Aaravos' eyes, and this time Viren knows there's no damn way this is a trick of the light. "Am I so wrong for wanting to keep a human of my own?" "N-no..." Viren doesn't even realize he spoke. It's not an answer to the question that was asked. He's terrified. Which way did this so-called ownership really extend? Is it really Aaravos who is bound to him, or is he the one bound to the elf, forced to do as he wants like a marionette on puppet strings? "I... " Viren's eyes finally adjust to the darkness, the elf's lips are curled up in a smirk. His fingertip gently traces the glowing rune on Viren's chest, sending a shiver down his spine. "Please..." He's not sure if he's begging for more or begging for him to stop. He's absolutely helpless like this, Aaravos could do anything to him, and Viren wouldn't be able to resist. He's not sure if the thought scares him more than it turns him on. He hates himself for it. Aaravos' fingers pause. "Shhh, Viren. It's alright." Oh, the way his name sounds springing off Aaravos' tongue is always dizzying, his lips caress the syllables, making him sound far more regal than he is. He almost lets himself relax. Almost.Aaravos' fingers start moving again, tracing patterns into the rune, and Viren's body feels heavy, like he's being held down by weights. "That's it," Aaravos croons, his other hand deftly undoing Viren's pants, pulling them down to his ankles before slipping between his thighs, gently teasing the sensitive skin. The hand on his chest pauses, and Aaravos snaps his fingers. Viren gasps, his eyes widening in shock. He can't move his body. His arms and legs are stock-still. Aaravos looks so damn pleased with himself and Viren's stomach twists in horror. He didn't realize how accurate his perception of his helplessness really was. "What the fuck is going on?" Viren's voice is angry, filling the room with its shrill tones. He sounds like he's on the edge of hysterics. He can still control his mouth, at the very least. "Hush," Aaravos purrs, his fingers dancing in the air like a cursed conductor. "Surely, you had to realize sooner or later. And when you found the books, well, they're not quite accurate, and they do portray us in such a damnably negative light, but they're close enough that I thought I might as well reveal this to you now." Viren splutters, trying to find the right words for the situation, but how could someone even think of any words for this?"And all I've been wondering is just... How far can I push you before you break? Humans are so incredibly adaptive, after all." The smug expression on Aaravos' face makes Viren want to hit him. "Will your mind break first or your body?" Aaravos waves his hand, and Viren's arms and legs move, unbuttoning the rest of his shirt, pulling off his underwear, until he stands there, completely naked and shivering in the cool air. It's unsettling, having his body move without him wanting it to, and he's terrified of what Aaravos could use him for. With Viren's body and magic bound to Aaravos' every will, the elf is too powerful, too uncontrollable. He could send the human kingdoms into ruin, but instead, he's in Viren's bedchamber, using his body for pleasure, and it's almost worse than being used to kill his people. Again, it's still an almost.He feels betrayed, as if Aaravos didn't tell him that he shouldn't trust him on the very first day that they spoke. But how could Viren help it? When he has treated Viren with such gentle kindness, cared for him more than anyone since Harrow? How long has it been since Aaravos stepped out of the mirror and wormed his way into Viren's heart?To Viren's horror, his cock is starting to get hard, just from being exposed like this, and Aaravos laughs, a real laugh full of mirth. Viren's body crumples like a marionette with its strings cut, landing on his knees. The bad one aches, a sharp stab of pain going through it. Aaravos' fingers curl around Viren's chin, a deliberately tactile motion, when he could so easily just manipulate Viren's body to look up at him. "Your defiance is so beautiful," Aaravos murmurs, thumb sliding over Viren's bottom lip, gently stroking the soft pink skin, "I hope you realize I could never have done this without you." Viren wants to bite him, but his jaw won't move. Aaravos' magic is holding his head in place. Blood magic, fae magic, this is what he gets for trusting an elf. Viren's body is trembling, as much as it can. He wants to hate this, wants to be furious, but the way his body is responding makes him have second thoughts. At the same time, he's afraid that the real reason his cock is aching so badly is because Aaravos forced it into hardness. He's never been this far out of control before, and god, his mind is already swimming at the thought of what Aaravos could make him do like this, what Aaravos could do to him like this. He hates himself for thinking it. He should be disgusted. He should be trying to break the spell, finding a way out of this, not turning complacent. He should be resisting. Why isn't he resisting? Aaravos grins at him like he knows what's swimming through Viren's mind. "Sweet little pet, don't think too much." He raises a hand lazily, Viren's unwillingly following the motion. "You might find that you're enjoying yourself." Viren's hand slowly and purposefully wraps around his own throat. His cock twitches, precum beading at the tip. He waits for the familiar magical pressure to settle around the base, but nothing happens. He's afraid he knows the reason why. His hand starts to squeeze. God, he's pathetic. Aaravos is watching him with those glowing eyes, Viren's breath starting to cut off. "I wonder if I could make you kill yourself like this," Aaravos leans forward, tongue slipping out to trace the shape of Viren's lips. Viren's hand squeezes harder. Tears start to bead in his eyes as Aaravos slips his tongue into his mouth, preventing him from even trying to gasp for air. It hurts. The burn of his lungs struggling for air, for anything. Aaravos bites down on Viren's lip, breaking through the skin. His tongue swipes away the blood that beads at the surface, a shiver going down Viren's spine."Gg-." Viren tries, but his hand squeezes even harder. He falls to the ground, on his side, his legs weak enough that he can't even kneel. Tears are streaming down his face, tears of not being able to breathe, and fuck Viren didn't even know he had that much strength in his fingers to squeeze his own throat so hard that he might die, Aaravos might kill him like this, even implied that he wanted to and that thought shouldn't make Viren want to cum on the spot, but it does and the pressure of an incoming orgasm starts to build at his abdomen. He can barely see, black dots clouding his vision. His cock aches, the impending orgasm teasing sweet release. Aaravos smiles at him. No. The orgasm is stopped in its tracks. No! If he can control this, what else can he do? Can he stop Viren's heart just with a thought? The lack of air is starting to get to his head, his thoughts going loopy with incoherence. He's on the verge of blacking out, like a veil has been pulled over his eyes slowly, inch by inch. He starts to lose it, drifting. The very moment he's about to pass out, Aaravos waves a hand and Viren's hand releases his neck. He coughs pathetically on the floor, gasping for air like a drowning man. His face is so flushed, he can feel it burning. Tears stain his face, coming faster now, harder to stop now that he has the breath to fuel them. His voice is so raspy. Aaravos takes a step forward, towering over his helpless form on the floor. His foot comes down hard, crashing into Viren's exposed stomach, and a bolt of pain slams through Viren's core. He tries, instinctively, to curl up to protect himself, but his body won't move, other than to roll onto his back. It's the opposite of what he wants, giving Aaravos even better access to his stomach. He doesn't even have the breath to scream; all that comes out is a pathetic rasp. His foot moves lower, sliding through the fluff at the base of his cock. His heel grinds into Viren's cock, bringing fresh tears to his eyes. It hurts so much but god does it feel good. "Good boy," Aaravos croons, in a voice that one might affect when talking to an animal. His foot moves lower, stepping on Viren's balls, dropping too much of his body weight on them, and the pathetically desperate cry that wrenches out of him makes him want to die. He especially wants to die when Aaravos moves his foot away and Viren wishes he hadn't. Aaravos raises his foot again, bringing it down hard into Viren's stomach. He yelps like a kicked dog, his voice still raspy as he gasps for breath. He does it again, slamming into Viren until his pale stomach is mottled with purple and Viren is openly sobbing, chest heaving with pain. The heel of his foot presses into the tender area hard, Aaravos meeting Viren's teary eyes with his own glowing ones. "I hope you understand now, what your place in all of this is." He grinds his foot down into Viren's aching stomach for emphasis. Viren shudders in pain and fear and arousal he wishes he didn't have. Aaravos squats down next to his body, his fingers gently tracing over the bruises that already blossomed. Viren coughs and gasps for air, a trail of blood slipping out of the corner of his mouth, staining the floor. Viren's body moves, his hands sliding between his legs, probing for his hole. No. No. No. "P-please... please st-stop," he rasps, tears filling his throat with a lump of pain. Aaravos just smiles at him, his fingers gently tracing the hand-shaped bruise on Viren's throat. "You're such a pretty little whore. My whore." Viren's eyes widen and he whimpers softly, his cock twitching desperately. Aaravos' fingers ruffle Viren's hair. "What a good little whore you are." Viren's free hand wraps around his throat again, and he wants to sob as it squeezes, Aaravos at least having the decency to squeeze lube into Viren's hand. His fingers push inside himself harshly, bringing more tears to his eyes. The way Aaravos makes him finger-fuck himself burns so badly, his lungs burning, his hole burning. It's so different from the way he usually does it, Aaravos doesn't bother to wait until he's fully stretched out before making him push in the second finger and the third and the fourth, and god his lungs are spasming, as they search for air, Aaravos smiling smugly. His fingers slide over Viren's exposed chest, pinching and squeezing his nipples, his cock desperately dribbling precum onto the floor. Aaravos' fingers are warm, unnaturally warm, fuck they feel like they're on fire, burning the sensitive pink skin. More desperate tears well up in Viren's eyes, dripping down his cheeks to join the drool and blood gathering on his chin. Aaravos' fingers suddenly go ice cold and Viren's body convulses, as much as it can with the magic holding him in place. He can't even make a single noise. His cock hurts from the neglect, pressure building in his abdomen for the second time that night and then dissipating, a frustrated whine forcing its way out of Viren's throat. Aaravos' ice cold fingers trail down his bruised stomach, muscles tensing painfully against the touch. "I think you're quite ready, don't you?" Viren's hand withdraws itself from his ass, his other hand still squeezing tightly around his throat. Aaravos' hands wrap around his hips, lifting him up to push his tapered cock inside him. Viren nearly forgot how prehensile it is, the experience already so different than being fucked by a human. It's like his cock is searching for his prostate, twisting like a tentacle inside Viren's ass as Aaravos thrusts his hips forward. Everything is so heightened by the burn in his lungs, his mind going so cloudy with lack of oxygen. Each thrust feels like he's being filled with fire. Viren's fingers let go of his throat and he gasps and coughs desperately, blood spraying out of his mouth. Aaravos bites down into his bruised throat, hard enough for Viren to sob, a tremor going through his body. His lips suck bruises in a trail up to Viren's ear. God the oh so soft and deep velvet groans rasping in his ear would be enough to push Viren over the edge alone if Aaravos would just let him-"Cum. Cum for me, Viren." It's the way his lips caress his name, the way his perfect tongue wraps around the syllables that finally sends him over the edge, Viren crying out in desperate relief, white splattering across his chest. Aaravos looks immaculate, as always, giving barely a groan as he releases deep inside Viren, filling him deeply. Aaravos drops the spell, and Viren is trembling, shaking on the floor. He doesn't meet his eyes. Aaravos slips a finger between Viren's cheeks, sliding it through the slick slopping out of his hole and dripping down his thighs. He makes sure Viren's watching before sliding it between his lips, sucking it off his fingers like a dollop of whipped cream. Viren's eyes go wide. Aaravos pushes him on his back, pulling his hips up into the air. Viren whimpers, achingly oversensitive, as Aaravos' tongue teases around his hole, licking him clean. The tongue slips inside him, effortlessly and Viren can't bear it, the gentle wet warmth pushing inside him so good on his aching, burning hole. If Viren was a younger man, he might've found himself getting hard again. But now, he's just exhausted, melting into the warmth of Aaravos' tongue. His hips fall back down, and a tongue slips into his mouth, twisting against his own. Viren can taste Aaravos' cum on his lips, moaning into that perfect mouth. It's much sweeter than a human's. The elf's hands roam Viren's body, massaging, soothing rather than seeking more. Viren relaxes into the touch, aching and bruised, and just needing comfort, no matter who it's from. Aaravos' hand glides gently down his chest, rubbing the mottled bruises painted across his stomach. Viren presses his body against Aaravos,' trembling. He's crying into his shoulder, shaking pathetically. The elf presses a kiss to his temple."Shhh, it's okay." Aaravos' hand slides behind Viren, rubbing circles into his aching back, being fucked against the floor certainly did nothing to help his terribly bruised body. He allows himself to forget how this started. It's easier that way, to just pretend that he can trust Aaravos, to pretend he wanted this the whole time. To pretend like everything's fine, like it's normal for someone else to have control over the way you move and breathe and think. At least for now. It's easier.And Aaravos makes it so easy, being so gentle with him, treating him like a porcelain doll. Aaravos draws the familiar rune in the air, murmuring the familiar enchantment. The bodily fluids vanish. Viren gasps in surprised pain, his stomach twists, the tear in his internal organs knitting itself closed. The bruises on his stomach, neck, and chest fade, Aaravos kissing each spot gently. He picks Viren up, effortlessly, placing him carefully between the covers, like he might break if he's not careful. Aaravos slides in next to him, holding Viren carefully to his chest. Viren's crying has subsided, but the tear tracks staining his face are still there. Aaravos' touches are so tender, wiping away those tears like an intimate lover, and Viren can't help but feel safe in his arms. Aaravos knows that the answer to the question he asked when this first began is, of course, his mind. Because despite it all, Viren still can't help falling in love with him.