Page 41 of Flamesworn

“There was something familiar about him,” she said, ignoring his theatrics as she had for their entire lives. “He covered his face when I took off his mask.”

“Maybe he was embarrassed a girl under five-foot-two fucked him up,” Theron said, and smiled smugly. “I was a terrified mess but goddamn, Kat. You probably have a line of your own in front of your tent, if you know what I mean.”

She did, but she didn’t want a line. There was only one person she wanted in her bed right now. “I don’t know. It still doesn’t make sense.”

“Like I said, what about this does? We’ll talk about this later, okay?” Theron gave her a half-wave. “I gave enough today, time to take it. Have fun, don’t come find me until dawn unless…yeah, just don’t.”

She let him go, still trying to untangle why the so-called Beast had hidden from her and stopped his advance. Maybe Ares would know. She went to her tent, happy that no one had stopped her, and drew down the cover. There was a barrel of water spelled to stay hot with soap and a rag, and she stripped down so she was naked, setting the sword against the side of the barrel as she soaped herself up and washed the blood off her skin, her hair, her face. She wondered why she didn’t feel as shattered as Theron, or as restless as she usually did.

You know why,a voice murmured in her head. She turned and looked at the sword, simple and unadorned, leaning there against the barrel. She picked it up and went to her bedroll, still naked, and lay on her back. She took her time examining the blade, which wasn’t curved like an Arkoudai’s sword, but straight and simple, no sacred engravings on the blade or runes spelled to make it strike swifter. There were no jewels on the hilt, no gold, nothing but a weapon meant to kill as quickly and efficiently as possible.

She ran a finger alongside the blade, smiling a bit. “You did so well for me today,” she said, and if there was any part of her that thought speaking to a sword was weird, well, plenty of soldiers did that who weren’t carrying War around in a scabbard. The metal warmed under her fingers, and she shivered as she imagined how Ares felt, being caressed and praised after being bathed in the blood of her enemies.

She let herself think about it, the battle, the way she’d felt so…connected to it, the current of the fighting like a river catching her and carrying her forth. She’d always thought combat of that intensity would be a blur, all adrenaline and hazy, half-remembered moments of terror, relying on muscle memory to make sure you were standing at the end of it. But she’d felt so focused, buzzing the way she did when she cut Ares with her knife, or when they lay between her thighs and she pulled their hair, coming over and over again.

She’d never been so certain of herself or her place in the world, out there on the battlefield. There was something a little disturbing about that idea, that battle was her true home, that combat was the only thing that made her feel like she was alive, that the mundane world was nothing but steel too dull to slice paper. Surely she’d earned this, hadn’t she? She’d saved her father, her brother. The mystery of the Beast, oddly familiar and yet hidden in a way not even his discarded mask could manage, could wait.

Ares’ approval hummed warm in her mind, and she brought the sword up so she could see her reflection in the blade. They had been cleaned after the fight, of course--she respected her weaponsandAres too much to leave them bloody, even if Ares might have liked that. Her expression looked serene, a flush to her skin, a little smile on her face like she was waiting on a lover to court her and take her to tea.

She pressed her mouth to the sword, licked it, tasted warm steel and imagined there was a slight tinge of copper, even though it was too clean for that. She could imagine the way Ares felt her touch, and that had her playing with the sword, teasing the inside of her thighs with the top of the blade, remembering Ares’ mouth there, eager and worshipful.

“Will you come to me tonight?” Kataida flipped the sword in her hand, settled the hilt against her cunt, could feel she wasalready wet. There was shame there beneath the excitement, but it was easier to ignore it, knowing the sword was really Ares, and Ares thrilled at every touch, every bloody, whispered endearment, every remembered strike and kill.

There was a warm brush of air on her inner thighs, like the sword was breathing, and she rubbed the hilt against her slit, panting softly. She could come like this, very easily, and at the thought of fucking herself with the hilt–

But no, she didn’t need to do that, did she? “Ares,” she whispered, arching her back and carrying the sword up from between her legs. She licked the hilt, feeling wanton and deliciously aroused, tasting a hint of herself on the wood. “Come and be with me.”

The sword grew warmer, and then…there was Ares, braced over her, just as naked, their long white hair falling around them both. “I wouldn’t have minded if you wanted to keep going,” they said, “pleasure yourself with me like that.”

“I’m going to,” she said, drawing them down to kiss them, “but I wanted you.” She smiled a little, sliding her hands over their heated skin, inhaling their scent of gunpowder and dread. “I’ve always wanted you.” For once she could luxuriate in being the avatar of War. She’d triumphed on the battlefield today. She’d been right to come here. She’d done what she used to dream about under her sheets, stroking herself, guilty and ashamed at how hard she would come, how utterly spent she’d be. Now it was a reality, not a fantasy, and with Ares, she never needed to hide. “Thank you for today, for being with me, for allowing me to wield you as I did.”

Ares was staring at her in a way that she couldn’t describe. Being adored the way her father adored his wife and husband, it always seemed somewhat suffocating to her, something she actively would avoid. Ares’ adoration was something elseentirely. She basked in it just as they had in the journey there, dancing to war chants and smiling at the sun.

“Kataida,” Ares breathed, and there was red streaking down his face, and when the drops landed on her, they sizzled and burned like fire.

They were crying.

Alarmed, she grabbed their face and surged up, kissing them. “What? Is it– What did I do?”

“You’ve made me so happy,” Ares said, against her mouth. “I didn’t know it could be like this, that you might use me and thank me for it.”

She wrapped her arms around them and drew their head down to her breasts and let them cry against her chest, their tears sending little flashes of pain through her. She liked causing pain more than feeling it, but she couldn’t deny that it made her want to wrap her legs around Ares’ and rub herself off on their thigh. “Shh. It’s okay.” She’d never been one for comforting anyone, but it wasn’t hard to do with Ares. “I’m grateful, but the choice is yours. You don’t have to do this again, you know.”

Ares lifted their head, streaked with blood and soot from their tears. “What do you mean? You don’t want me?”

“Of course, but–I don’t want to use you.”

“No, you should. Use me, please,” Ares kissed down her chest, sucking lightly at her nipples. “That’s all I want. If you use me, I feel tethered. I feel like my sword has a scabbard.” They glanced up at her, eyes searching hers. “Call me the name you gave me, the one that’s just mine.”

She felt tears prick the back of her eyes, and flipped them, so that Ares was on their back and she was braced on top of them. “Bright eyes. My bright eyes.” She took their face in her hands and kissed them, tasted the strange copper-ash of their tears and made them shiver by digging her nails into their skin and dragging her hand down.

They were so beautiful, Ares. She sat up next to them, running her hands down the form that they’d chosen tonight. Their chest was slightly larger, so that their breasts were almost the same size as Kataida’s. Their stomach was softer, a bit, without the hard lines of their abdomen. They had muscular thighs and instead of a cock, a cunt framed by a thick nest of orange-red the same color as the tips of their hair. As she touched them, the form shifted again slightly, so their chest looked the same as it did that first time she’d climbed atop them back in her bed in Axon.

“I want to look like you want,” Ares said, when she glanced at them.

“I told you,” she corrected, slapping them lightly between the legs, smiling as they moaned and immediately widened their legs, “your form should be what you want it to be. Do you like to change it like this, when you’re naked?”

“Yes.” Ares moaned, tipping their head back, showing their lovely, unmarked throat. Their chest grew again so their breasts were larger, and she laughed and leaned down to bite at them, sucked on the nipples that were also larger. They took her face in their hands, brought her close and kissed her. “Slay me like you slew your foes, beautiful. Truly you were like the storm for which you were named, merciless and consuming. I could think of your glory for hours and live in the pleasure you took in your blade for a century.”

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