Chapter Text
Emet Selch prowled closer to the Scion’s hero. She was admittedly not what he expected. Not just because she held features remarkably similar to Azem, but she was not the modest little creature the Scion's would have chosen for their warrior, had they the choice. From his private observations, he found her brazen, seductive, but most surprisingly, he sensed a nefariousness to her wit and charm. And in these features, he was reminded of Azem's last reincarnation: Natalia, a dangerous little witch who had warmed his bed during his tenure as Emperor Solus. And in Nura, he suspected with almost complete certainty that Azem’s soul once again stood before him; however, the Light she absorbed from the Wardens distorted his ability to confirm his suspicion.
Azem had been mischievous, to be certain, but she was illuminating and unhindered back in those halcyon days. Whatever she had experienced throughout her reborn lives has certainly left its mark, and for a brief moment, he ruminated on the darkness that had grown in him as well. But, as always, there was naught to be done about it; his duty was his duty after all, and just like in the beginning, whatever sacrifices needed to be made, would be done without second thought. However… he frowned as an unpleasant realization bubbled to the surface of his thoughts.
Of course, Hydaelyn would put her in my way. He assessed with utter distaste. Azem was after all her chosen successor. But more than that, Emet Selch knew the second, and probably most important reason Hydaelyn wanted her. With a heavy sigh, he let his peaking despair settle back down into his chest, where it perpetually resided. Diverting from his darker musings, Emet-Selch redirected his focus back to Nura.
As he approached her, his eyes instinctively glanced down at her chest. She had quite the bountiful bosom, which she made no effort to hide. Indeed, the bustier she wore plunged down to reveal her cleavage down to the underside of her breasts, and as if that were not enough, the top she wore under had them hitched them up and graciously displayed.
A knowing smirk secretively perked up along the edge of his lips remembering how his Azem, with a modest sized chest, had relished in making hers grow along with her arousal when they practiced a more… vigorous style of intimacy. Emet Selch had always found Azem in her true form perfectly sufficient to his preferences, but he had to admit, the taboo of body-altering magics certainly spiced things up. And over the years, he had come to associate larger breasts with that titillating excitement.
So, all in all, Nura's presentation was truly a tempting one.
His eyes peered back up to meet her gaze, and he found her scowling back. He had not tried to conceal where his attention had wandered after all.
“Oh, come now, hero. Though your soul may be tattered, the evolution of life has left you with a physical form not unlike those of the Ancients. And yours…” He drifted as he scanned down her body before flickering his attention back to her vehement stare, “is truly something to behold.” She took in a sharp breath, likely to argue, so he quickly interjected with one finger held up, “Ah, but you know this. Otherwise, you wouldn't put it on such a dazzling display. You are proud of your form, and despite how I would have seen that as garish in the past...". He paused briefly before continuing with a more somber tone, "things have changed. I've changed".
Her fingers twitched at her side, which did not escape his notice. Deciding he didn’t want things to come to blows just yet, he ceased his approach and leaned against a wall, his shoulder slumping forward as he forced his expression into one of indolence. It took an abundance of energy to maintain his physical form, and the lack of aether density on the First certainly did not help, so the weariness he conveyed was not entirely an act.
“Why are you here?” She demanded, her breath catching and causing her chest to tremble ever so exquisitely.
Squinting his eyes in contemplation, he wondered for a moment if her hesitation had anything to do with a sparked latent memory. She was several times rejoined after all. Could it be possible? But Emet-Selch immediately dismissed the unexpected excitement fluttering to life in his chest.
“You know why I am here.” He stated pointedly, curious of how she responded to his ambiguity. And yet again, she astonished him as a deep blush spread across her cheeks.
He chuckled, “Or apparently, not.” Spending a moment to observe her recoil in embarrassment, he continued, “Surprising that you don’t seem to be concerned about me being here to kill you, but by your blush it seems you think I am here to impose myself upon you in some barbarous fashion. You are a treat to the eye, indeed, but I am not a brute without constraint.” Pushing himself off the wall, he sauntered a step or two toward her slowly and carefully as to not provoke the poor thing. No, he wanted her open and vulnerable for what he was about to suggest.
“Have no fear. Despite how desperately I find myself desiring to indulge, I will not resort to force to satiate what my innate instincts drive me to do.”
By the way her chest rose and fell as her breathing quickened and deepened, Emet-Selch knew his words had affected her as intended.
“What…” She began to timorously ask before she caught herself and shutting her lips so firmly, they creased around the corners. As she took a deep, steadying breath, it took considerable effort not to fully focus on how it caused her breasts swell as it pushed up against the straining leather and fabric of her clothing. He had made his point enough on that front, no need for him to prod that boundary any further.
With a renewed confidence, her lips cut into a sharp, threatening grin. “So Elidibus is the Emissary, and Lahabrea… a general? But you come with honeyed words of cooperation and whispers of lecherous motives?” With a raised, unimpressed brow, she looked him over. “A politician no doubt. And a sleazy one at that. I suppose being Emperor of Garlemald suited you well. No doubt there were more than enough devotees for you to take advantage of.”
His responding laugh was curt and genuine. “I assure you, hero, I took advantage of no one. Nor did I particularly enjoy in the act of breeding the Empress.” With an exaggerated sigh, he mockingly lamented, “But it was my duty after all.”
“Ah, thus I am your very special interest, and I should swoon in gratitude of the attentions gifted by a great, powerful, arch bringer of chaos.” She snorted.
His chuckle was low and rumbling, “If you wish to discharge my passions, resorting to flattery, even in jest, was a mistake. In my immense boredom, the last thousand, thousand years has degraded my modesty, and as such, I fear my pride and ego, at having been left unattended, has grown wild and unruly."
He took one predatory step toward her, his glinting eyes hinting at what thoughts lay behind them. Yet, she did not retreat. Instead, her smile dropped, and her regard remained steadily fixed on his. Another step forward, and yet again, she remained steadfast. Each step he took toward her was a challenge, and not once did she back down. Not even when he stood so close to her that he had to look down to keep his gaze locked to hers.
"If you wish for me to not do what I am about to do, then simply dismiss me, and I shall go.” He uttered in warning with his intentions dripping from each word.
"I thought you weren't here to indulge." Though she planned to come off insolent, the effect was lost in the breathless way she uttered her quip.
"Oh, I never said that, hero." He gruffly rumbled. "I merely stated that I would not use force. So far, I've kept my word, have I not?"
Her cheek twitched slightly as she struggled to answer. Just tell him to leave. Or better yet, carve that smug look right off his face. She thought. But her curiosity, mixed with a desire she didn’t quite understand yet, kept her from acting.
Emet-Selch’s arrogant smirk grew into a victorious grin when she made not move to reject him. And very deliberately, he reached out with his gloved hand and ran his fingertip along the inner edge of the stretched fabric between her breasts that bound them. As his touch trailed its way to her plump flesh, her chest rose in anticipation, and at this proximity, he could hear the leather of her bustier creaking as it strained against the pressure. In response, his cock twitched and stretched.
But just as he was about to make contact, he paused and tore his eyes away from the enchanting sight to find Nura intently watching his movements. At his hesitation, her stare shot up to meet his penetrating gaze. Her glare was fierce and vicious, but there was hunger in them as well. Without breaking eye contact, he tugged the fabric down just ever so slightly as to fully reveal the expanse of her cleavage, and when still she did not protest, he pressed his finger to the side just enough so that the worn cloth of his gloves sank into the arching curve of her breast.
Nura sharply inhaled as a sudden aching shock drove into her core, but she did not drop her chin in submission. No, her gaze was locked on and steady. This pleased Emet-Selch greatly, and so following suit, he didn’t take his eyes from her when he moved his palm to sit just under the hefty weight of her breast, and with his thumb cradling the other side, he cupped and lifted and then squeezed.
Glancing down at his large hands grasping her, he reveled in the sight of her flesh billowing up between his long fingers, and cradled between two of his knuckles was her hardened nipple, extruded from her binds by his grip. A low, growling groan escaped his relaxed lips, and with a great sense of urgency and need, with his free hand he dug his fingers into her hip and pushed her back against the wall. With both hands, he clenched onto her body harder, and the whimpering sound that escaped Nura when he did so just about unraveled him. With his hips, he pressed forward locking her in. Conveniently, the same act permitted Nura to feel the full extent of how she had affected him, and watching her eyes widen in response caused his arousal to jerk as it became even more distended.
Indeed, when Nura felt the Ascian’s fully engorged cock press against her stomach, she stifled a gasp of both surprise and concern. Seven hells, he might kill me with that thing alone. She thought frantically. And the way he snickered made it clear he was aptly confident in what he packed between his legs.
Pulling back his hips, his tip dragged along her body as the appendage drooped from its own weight. Then supporting himself with a hand against the wall, he leaned forward with his back bending drastically so that he could brush his nose against the nape of her neck. Softly he inhaled, taking in her scent, before sweeping his lips against her cheek as he murmured, “Do you want it, my dear?”
Nura's mind was flooded by her desires, and it was apparent that she eagerly wanted him to take her. To have him penetrate her so deeply she would forget she ever existed outside the ecstasy of the sensation. However, she strenuously clung onto that last thread of sanity, and she did the only thing she could manage.
Emet-Selch heard the ring of metal as she deftly withdrew her blade, and when he felt it’s point resting under his chin, he smiled deviously. They both knew what she wanted, but as she was currently incapable of accepting it, he could do nothing except wait until she was ready.
“If that is your wish” was his only reply before dissipating into the shadows he summoned around him.
A quick rush of cool air billowed against Nura at the Ascian's sudden disappearance. Before that moment she had not fully realized how hot and flushed she had gotten. Her breath labored and her heart raced. And her betraying need pounded in her cunt. Slamming her back against the wall, she gripped her hair as she slid down to sit on the floor. Crumpling forward, she fixated on the wood grain beneath her, trying to stabilize.
But her mind kept leaping back toward the smell of him. Roses and spice? The heat of him so close. The feel of his hands claiming her body. And were his hands free of his gloves, what would his touch feel like against my skin. She cried out in frustration as she attempted to diminish the ideation of his nails biting into her supple bosom. But despite her efforts, her body remained charged and ready. Tenderly, she brought her fingers between her thighs, and at her own touch, her body jolted in anticipation. Her head fell back as a forceful moan erupted from her. “Fuck!” She huskily lamented before sliding down the wall to lie on her side.
But despite her body’s demands for release, she laid there unmoving. Just breathing. And staring off into the empty space of her room. He's probably still watching. I can't give him the satisfaction...
After a time, her body finally relaxed, and as she rose and began dusting herself off, she speculated… Elidibus came in diplomacy, Lahabrea in war. She laughed mirthlessly at the absurdity of it as a dread sank its claws into her, I can’t say I expected them to come after me… like this.
Sitting down at her desk, she tapped her fingers in agitation against the top. And I certainly wouldn't have expected it to work.