The Story So Far: A pariah as a woman who negates magic in a world full of it, Mara Spell-Breaker has fled persecution alongside Aallotar, a soul cursed to bestial rage and feral fury. Mara's spell-negating powers can suppress the curse, but to break it, she has apprenticed herself to the demon Sammael the Torturer, Venom of God, who saved them both from execution by Mara's father, the lord of Sjaligr. Danger is coming to the Red Mountains, a punishment for old sins, and the oracle Kalevi predicted that Mara would have a part in it. Now she and Aallotar have been sent to search an ancient ruin unearthed by an earthquake, the workshop of Sammael's creator. As things have gone on, Mara and Aallotar have grown closer and closer, feelings coming to a head last night.

Content warning: There is a queer romance in this story, particularly in this chapter. If you would prefer not to read, that is perfectly understandable.

***

Mara awoke before dawn, very conscious of both the burning pain in her right arm from Sammael's last lesson and the wonderful aches through her body. The places where Aallotar's sharp nails had broken her skin stung in the best possible way, reminders of the passion they had chased together. Aallotar's arm draped over her waist, tucked close to hold her back against the wildling's chest with no clothes to separate her from the warmth of the body behind her. She didn't want to wake Aallotar, and the burning wasn't as bad as it had been, so Mara stayed still and just listened to the easy breathing muffled against her hair.

Her thoughts wandered to the inevitable question far more quickly than she would have liked. It was harder to just enjoy Aallotar's presence when she realized she didn't know what the night before meant. In Sjaligr, not only had her father crushed any such interest in her and explicitly said he would never consent to a marriage, but marriages were between men and women, matters of property and bloodline. Occasionally, a man might make a proposal out of fondness, but ‌most of the time that was an afterthought or something to grow between the two after vows were made.

So what did this mean?

Aallotar shifted behind her and gave her a slight squeeze, kissing the soft skin just below Mara's ear. "Are you awake?" the wildling whispered. Her voice was so delicate that it wouldn't have woken Mara if she was still asleep.

"Mhm." Mara rolled over, letting her bandaged hand rest on the small of Aallotar's back under the blankets. She looked into those golden eyes, hoping that her inner turmoil didn't show on her face. No one could make her heart beat faster the way Aallotar could. Even half asleep still, adoration practically shone from the wildling's smile.

Mara's hopes died instantly, when Aallotar seemed to wake more and the smile faded into something more serious. "You are worried."

The sorcerer tried to piece together her thoughts. In the moment, things were so much easier. There was just desire, following the cues of her body and Aallotar's beast. Maybe there was still some damaged part of her soul expecting that all the complicated feelings now tangling her up were not the same for Aallotar. "I just..."

"Mara, what's wrong?" The wildling stroked her cheek gently, a worry of her own shining in her golden eyes.

"Last night..." Mara felt a blush building when her thoughts strayed back in that direction, even with all the weight on her mind. The memories were fresh and exquisitely vivid. She knew she wanted all of it again. She rallied as best she could, refocusing on Aallotar. "What did that mean to you?"

Aallotar seemed to understand that the question was much deeper than it appeared on the surface. "To me it meant everything," the wildling said softly. "It meant...I do not want the sun to rise if I am not with you. It meant...I would rather give you my heart than let it beat alone. That is what it meant." Aallotar hesitated, but did not look away. It took her a moment to find her next words. "What did it mean to you?"

Mara combed her fingers through blonde hair, very conscious of Aallotar's gaze. The longer she was quiet, the more worried and tense the wildling became. "I never thought I would..." She sucked in a deep breath, tears welling at the twin realization that this was only possible because of her exile and that it had actually happened. It wasn't the future she had hoped for as a girl: it was better than she could have ever conceived of. Aallotar's love was not in spite of her curse, nor was it because of it. That was a weft of Fate that had brought them together, but it hadn't been her answer.

"Mara, if it was not—"

The sorcerer knew her own insecurities well enough to recognize them in Aallotar. "Listen to me," Mara said softly, interrupting as gently as she could, a fingertip against Aallotar's lips to hush her. "I never thought I would ever get to experience something so wonderful. I never thought I would hold something as priceless as your heart and have it want to be held. I...I want this. I want you. For as long as you'll let me, and if you ever wish me gone or leave, I hope it kills me. You have nothing to worry about. I'll keep your heart with mine forever if you want it there."

"No words of death or unhappiness." Aallotar ducked her head slightly, a scarlet blush spreading across her tattooed cheeks. "It seems so silly now, but I was worried, since..."

"Since what?"

The blush worsened. "Since I am not a man. I thought you might not like it as much. Or at all."

Mara laughed, tracing a finger along Aallotar's chin. "Did I at any moment give you the impression I wanted you to stop?"

Aallotar shook her head, smiling through her embarrassment. "Never."

A different question occurred to Mara, replaying the night's events in her head even though she knew it would stain her own cheeks pink. "Aallotar, how did you know about any of this? I at least had stories, but..."

Aallotar rubbed the back of her neck, cheeks now flaming red. The blush had spread to her ears too. "When I told Theudhar the way you make me feel, the things the beast wanted, he pulled me aside and said there were some things I needed to understand."

"Oh?"

Aallotar nodded. "He told me passion is of use only if it benefits the other person and is best led by the heart. I think he chased many ladies before he fell for Saxa, because had endless stories and suggestions. I just...when I turned beet red and stammered, he told me to stop imagining you and go take a cold bath. The command did nothing, but the cold helped a little."

Mara laughed even as she made a mental note to thank the foreigner if she could find an indirect, less awkward way to do so. She had most definitely benefited from his advice. Her own mother had passed on what to expect from a man, but everything with Aallotar was a new, unexplored dimension.

"Last night, I was afraid I would hurt you."

"I am a little sore," Mara admitted. When Aallotar looked like she was about to apologize, the sorcerer shook her head. "Don't you dare. I wanted every second of that, every mark and every memory."

Aallotar's gaze flickered down to the lovebites along the column of Mara's neck and across the delicate angle of her shoulder. They stood out livid against the sorcerer's pale skin. "I should have been more careful."

"I swear to you I loved every second of it. Don't apologize."

"They will notice these," Aallotar said hesitantly. "Even if we are at the ruin for a while...I doubt they will so swiftly fade."

Mara smiled. "Good."

Aallotar turned almost crimson beneath the blue streaks of her tattoos. "You want this?" Surprise colored her voice into a mix of confusion and hope.

Mara pressed her lips to the tip of the wildling's nose, a barely there touch. "Of course I do. Do you?"

"I do not want to hurt you, but..." Aallotar covered her face with her hands, muffling the rest of her answer. "The beast...I like seeing that you are mine."

Mara felt her heart stutter at that. It was more than a skip. "The mark you left on my heart will be there forever, Aallotar," she promised, sweeping the fingers of her good hand through her love's hair. "So you can reapply these any time you like." Reality was seeping into Mara's peace of mind even with all this closeness, however.

"Another time," Aallotar promised gently, as if she could sense the slow gravity pulling them back to the world beyond their own private one. "Though..."

"Hmm?"

"Caliban," Aallotar said quietly. "I do not know what he will do if he sees them."

Mara frowned, more in worry than disapproval. "You think there will be a problem?"

The wildling nodded, golden eyes worried. "He already does not care to have me as an obstacle in his way. Knowing how close we are, he will seek to break us apart."

"Why would he do that?"

Aallotar's rough fingers touched her bandaged arm. "He wants what you have, Mara. If he cannot take it, he will find another way to have you, and I am in his way."

The sorcerer sighed and looked down at her gauze-wrapped palm. The pain was slowly worsening the more and more sleep left her body. "Nothing is going to turn me from you."

"I was more worried about a knife in the back."

The very thought touched the Void inside of Mara. She felt it not as a hot, wrathful anger, but something cold and almost alien. She carried around her hatred as a fire. This was...different. "If he tries, he will not live to regret it."

"Mara?" Aallotar said softly, worry shining in her golden eyes. "That was not like you."

Immediately, the darkness in Mara dipped again below the surface, like a leviathan slipping beneath the waves of the sea. That was a new feeling, not one that her feelings for Aallotar could explain. "It's nothing," Mara said softly. She had a sense that it had more to do with the sorcery and Sammael than anything else.

"That did not sound like nothing." The wildling shifted, pulling Mara tighter into her embrace. "I do not wish to lose you to Sammael's influence any more than you wish to lose me to the beast."

"I'm only doing what I have to," Mara said gently. "Sammael understands that I have limits."

Aallotar traced her hand down Mara's bandaged arm. "Does he?"

"Trust me."

"It is not you I mistrust. He is still a demon, just as I am still afflicted. We all bow to our natures."

Mara kissed Aallotar, lingering against the wildling's lips for a moment before reluctantly drawing back. "Hopefully not for much longer. There has to be something in those ruins that can break your curse."

"Then the sooner we find them, the better. Particularly if others will come looking," Aallotar said. She looked over at the low coals of the fire, just barely enough to beat back the chill rolling in from outside. "Time to break camp?"

Mara sighed, but as much as she wanted to spend the rest of the day between blankets with Aallotar, the wildling was right. "I hate it when you're sensible."

The wildling nipped gently at her shoulder, sending a shiver down Mara's spine, before pulling away the blankets. Aallotar's laughter filled the air at Mara's entirely undignified squawk as the cold air rushed in at them. Mara sprang up and hustled to get dressed. She couldn't bring herself to be angry at the laughing, not when it was one of her favorite sounds. Delightful aches and twinges of pain echoed the pleasures of the night before, every one sparking a memory that kept her cheeks burning.

Aallotar was quick to pull on her own clothing before throwing another chunk of wood on the fire and stirring up the coals. Soon they had a proper fire again, enough for Mara to warm food over while Aallotar widened the hole in the snow at the mouth of the cave, allowing them an escape.

By the time the wildling finished her task and returned, the pain in Mara's arm was reaching unbearable levels. Aallotar knew without a word being said what was going on: the ragged edge to the sorcerer's breathing betrayed her.

"Let me help."

Mara nodded. She had to pull her arm and shoulder out of her shirt, a move that was somewhat undignified, but it was absolutely worth it for the coming relief. The blistered burns down her arm looked better than they had the day before, already healing, but they were deep. Whenever they reached a plateau, Sammael always pushed her the hardest. Mercifully, the healing ointment soothed basically instantaneously.

"I wish it didn't have to hurt," Aallotar whispered as she bandaged up Mara's wound. "I feel like it is me burning you, knowing that you do this for me."

"It isn't. This is my choice." Mara leaned in and rested her head against the wildling's shoulder. "Besides, you know there's much more to it than that."

"I know, but if you had never met me..."

"Then I would be miserable or dead," the sorcerer said firmly. "They would have burned me alive for the second oracle that Gareth brought back."

"Do you think it was true?" Aallotar asked, allowing Mara to divert her. "The oracle that Gareth delivered."

Mara started packing away the rest of their supplies as Aallotar began eating. "About me being at the right hand of Void, wreaking some horrible revenge? He hated me enough to lie, but maybe Kalevi saw Sammael taking us in. The troll was right about you. That said, I would rather just leave the Red Moutains. If what Kalevi says is true, they'll get what's coming to them and more."

Aallotar nodded thoughtfully at that. "Do you think they will go north of the river to where my people are?"

"Until that curse is broken, I don't think that would end well for any invading army. I seem to recall something about the bones of mennskr littering the earth there," Mara pointed out gently. "Sjaligr has the best steel in all the Red Mountains, and their weapons couldn't put a scratch on you in beast form."

"We have not tested if magic could harm me. Or if sorcery could."

Mara sighed, rolling up the bedrolls and attaching them to their packs as the last step in packing. "Let's hope we never find out. Give me a minute or two to eat and then we can set off for the ruins. Even knowing they'll likely be defended and dangerous, I have to admit that I'm curious. After all, Sammael's maker was the first living thing to channel Void. Maybe there's something there that will explain my abilities."

She didn't even realize until hours later, when they were trudging through the snow, that for the first time, she hadn't called it her curse.