CHAPTER 5

The scent of wood smoke was back, but it was distant and unimportant, muted Reds at the edge of her notice. There were sharp Orange sounds that very well could have been screams, but Celia couldn't be sure if they were different from the Yellow of midday. In the distance, glowing with a steady White light that lay beyond the patterns, she could see Cair Dwemor. It looked safe, and secure, a perfect place to watch the patterns unfold. She began walking toward it, but as she did, she heard a Green-tinged crack, and her body began to shift. Her skin became ornately painted wood, with clever little joints to allow motion. Flowing from her chest outward, she knew she was a beautiful perfect marionette. The soft ropes, tugging her Blue towards a pale hand, felt safe.

“I knew you would be mine, pretty little knight.”

The world dissolved, the patterns swirling around her, and she found herself lying under a woolen blanket. It was the one she had acquired from Wand's Reach. Celia searched back through her memory, trying to find how she had gotten there, but it was hard to remember anything but the patterns. She was in a cave, she slowly realized. Little glowing lights, not part of the patterns, hovered near the ceiling and cast steady shadows from the stalactites. There was a breeze, and it carried a Reddish, unfamiliar scent of rain. So, she was in a cave waiting out the storm? That seemed sensible, logical.

She started to slip out of the bedroll, trying to find the pattern again, but soft hands grabbed her head, pulling her into a warm lap, then began to stroke her hair. Mary. She smiled happily up at the faerie’s caring expression.

“Hello, dear,” Mary said kindly. “How are you feeling?”

Blue and Green returned, and she opened her mouth, but Mary put a finger to her lips.

“That’s all I needed to know,” she whispered. The faerie closed her eyes, and then one of the lights drifted over, pulsing with the pattern of the fire. Celia sighed, gazing into that light, and shifted slightly to snuggle closer to Mary’s warmth. Mary opened her eyes, smiling indulgently.

“You don’t want to leave this, do you?” She asked. Celia shook her head, and Mary sighed. “Well, you can’t spend the rest of your life in the logic of the flame, dear.” Celia’s face fell, and Mary was quick to reassure her. “But don’t worry. Whenever you hear me snap my fingers twice, you will stop, and as soon as you’re safe to do so, you will see that fire again. Doesn’t that sound nice?” Celia nodded.

The faerie turned to the cave entrance, seeming to consider it. “The weather turned,” she explained. “We decided to move you to this cave, out of the way. I know a strong girl like you wouldn’t mind the rain and muck,” she teased, running a finger along Celia’s arm, “but a clean, warm cave would much better suit the lesson Samuel and I have for you.” Finally, her expression turned thoughtful. “In a moment, dear, I’m going to take away the fire. When I do, you can return, forgetting its logic for a while, letting yourself focus on the here and now. But you won’t feel angry, or afraid. You’ll feel comfortable. Safe. Do you understand?” She nodded, but why would she feel angry or afraid?

Mary took a deep breath. “Celia Evergleam, when you wake, you will remember the fae, and what we are.” And with that, she closed a fist around the light she’d changed.

Waking from the trance felt like coming up from underwater. A moment of disorientation, then a reassertion of the rules she knew, and she was back. Looking at the beautiful faerie, Celia felt the curious absence of both anger and fear to stoke her inner flame. Sheer determination could fuel it, she knew, but determination to do what? Walk out into the cold rain? The cave was indeed pleasantly warm and clean, and Mary was certainly attractive.

“I'm awake,” she said, more to fill the silence than any compulsion. Mary watched her for a moment, expression unreadable, before Celia spoke. “I think I would be very angry or very afraid, Mary,”' Celia said calmly, shifting herself upright to sit on the faerie’s lap.

“I thought you might, given how much you disliked the idea of Gella doing something similar,” the fae woman sighed, resuming her stroking of Celia’s hair. Celia shifted a little, settling into a more comfortable position.

“So, that's it then? My mind is all tied up?” While she would have preferred it to not happen at all, she hadn’t even had a chance to fight back here. Gella's control had been a spell and an enchanted weapon, both of which would end or wear off if not maintained. But Mary had used no magic, aside from coloring the fire. Shame welled up in her gut, but it felt strangely empty without being able to feel angry at herself. “Did I fight it at all?” She asked hopefully, turning to look at the other woman.

Mary shook her head, still smiling kindly. “I'm afraid not. You were quite eager to slip into my trance.” Seeing the mildly disappointed look on Celia's face, she winced. “Apologies, Celia. That is not what I meant. You didn't fight because… I believe the phrase is… I stacked the cards?”

Celia smiled back. “Stacked the deck,” she corrected.

“Ah, yes. Stacked the deck,” Mary continued. “Thank you. You had given me your True Name, after all. You didn’t have much of a chance after that.”

Celia vaguely remembered the melody of a flute, but that was it. “It's hard to remember…” She admitted, and Mary nodded apologetically.

“You can remember it all easily, Celia Evergleam,” Mary said softly. And just like that, a cloud lifted from Celia's mind. She could recall everything that happened between Samuel, Mary, and herself, up until they had commanded her to sleep. Under normal circumstances, she certainly would have been furious at the way she’d been used, played with… But they hadn’t hurt her.

Well, Celia thought in a detached sort of way, at least it isn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Almost immediately, she chided herself on such defeatist thinking. “Isn't Gella going to get mad at you?” She asked after a moment. “She wanted me to serve her. I told you that, didn’t I?”

Mary giggled. “Yes. Well, I doubt she’ll mind too greatly. The clever little mortal does enjoy puzzling things out, and she has always displayed an interest in the magic a Name can invoke.“ She brought one hand down, lightly brushing Celia's body. “And besides. She let you wander. Very inattentive of her. Wandered right into my hands, didn’t you? We can hardly be blamed for playing with you a little,” she purred, running the tips of her fingers along Celia's toned tummy. Celia gave a content little sigh, relaxing into the touch with a smile. “Does that feel good?” The faerie asked teasingly. Feeling a flush of embarrassment, but unable to stop Mary from touching her body, Celia just gave her best dignified huff.

“You know it does, Mary,” she sighed, utterly failing to keep the smile off her face as Mary began lightly touching her again.

“I do, at that,” Mary agreed softly. She put her fingers to her lips and whistled lightly, and after a moment, Samuel walked into the cave.

“Ah, has the mortal woken up?” He asked jovially. He knelt next to Celia, who cocked her head, looking at him.

“What were you doing outside?” She asked.

“Well, with a bit of glamour, none would bother you two, so I took a bit to enjoy the summer rains,” he explained. He moved his hand towards her, then stopped, meeting her eyes, the question obvious.

Celia found that funny. Why would he need to ask? “Your lovely wife has me very much under her spell,” she chuckled, shrugging. “I don’t mind.”

“Not so,” Mary corrected her. Moving down to cup a breast in each hand, she began massaging Celia’s chest, eliciting a groan of pleasure. “You're hypnotized, Celia. Or were, at least, and now are under my suggestions. Now, I did use my glamour to help, of course, but this isn't magical at all. The only magic I have used on you since you woke up was to let you remember what we are.”

Samuel nodded, slipping off his shirt. “She's been fascinated by it,” he explained. “Some trick of how mortal minds work, and even those adjacent to mortals. She's explained it to me, but…" He trailed off, his shirt – or the illusion of one – fading away. “Let’s just say my talents of seduction don’t lie in the mind!" He finished with a barking laugh.

“Have you ever been with a man before, Celia?” Mary asked comfortingly. The warrior thought back, then winced as she reached too far. Untensing, she shook her head, but Mary was already looking at her with concern. “Bad memories, my dear? I thought we got everything out earlier.”

Celia was grateful in the moment for the relaxed heaviness keeping her mind at peace. “Old memories,” she said quietly. “From… before.” She trailed off, and Mary nodded, then smiled brightly.

“Well, none of that tonight, lovely girl. Tonight is about pleasure. So…” She raised her fingers before Celia's eyes and snapped them twice.

The warrior again felt herself slipping under, her eyes growing impossibly heavy as the flame filled her thoughts all over again. Mary's lap was already the perfect place, so with a heavy sigh, she felt – let? – herself surrender completely. “You did very well, Celia,” Mary's voice sounded in Lavender tones. Distantly, she felt warmth on her legs, then little kisses trailing along her inner thighs. “Back down, feeling so wonderful,” Mary said softly. “Every time, seeing the logic more and more, deeper and deeper, relaxing down and deep.” Celia could feel what she thought was the bottom of the trance drop out from under her, sending her falling, but without the sensation of fear a freefall carried. Mary's Blue voice told her she would, so she did. The kisses made their way up toward her pussy, and a controlled breath across her slick folds made the warrior shiver.

“You are a mortal girl, Celia.” Mary's voice was easy to agree with, even more so because it was true. She was mortal, and a girl. Fingers began delicately tugging and rubbing her nipples, adding a lovely Indigo of pleasure to the Lavender thrum from between her legs. “Mortal girls desire pleasure, Celia.” She nodded softly at that as well. Of course she knew that. She still desired it too. She suppressed it, but when that need got too much, she would have to drop her guard just a little bit. There was a tiny wince, a Red bordering on Orange, but Mary's voice caught it, bleeding into Yellow. “Look around, Celia. That pain just came from somewhere. Can you see it?”

In the dark nowhere of her mind, Celia tried to follow the flare of color, the discord in the flame’s logic. It was hard to divorce her mind from the patterns, but she knew she had to, and the Red came into focus, other colors fading away. “A door,” Celia murmured, and in her mind's eye she could see it. Massive dark planks banded in a toxic corroded Orange metal, forged blow by blow of her own will. Whatever lay beyond was meant to stay locked away forever, though her nightmares refused to listen. She hadn't even noticed she was describing it out loud until Mary's voice chimed in again.

“Oh, you poor, sweet girl.” She felt a kiss on her forehead and smiled despite herself. Comfort and gentleness were not what she was expecting in this place.

“This is what you have to be on guard against, isn't it?” Mary asked softly, hands moving from her nipples back to petting along her scalp.

Celia nodded. “I'm terrified it will open when I'm awake,” she added softly, almost inaudibly. There was silence for a long moment while Celia drifted, logic lost before that door.

“Then we will have to make sure it never opens.” Mary said with confidence that Celia felt herself clinging to. “Forget, Celia. Forget the door, and whatever lies beyond it.”

The door’s color only grew harsher, more discordant. Celia shook her head lightly. There was quiet again, then the sound of Samuel murmuring to his wife. The soothing stroking remained, though, and Celia was grateful for it. It anchored her, a link back to the Blue and Lavender she’d come from. “It’s alright, dear. Go deeper now, Celia, ever deeper.” She snapped twice, and the patterns returned, swirling at the edge of her awareness. “Feeling so content as we drift away from the door,” Mary commanded, and Celia gratefully obeyed. She drifted away and soon her perception of things fuzzed and blurred. She sank back into Blues and Indigos, sank and was soothed and comforted. Eventually, her throat began to feel dry, and cool liquid was given for her to drink. She sank and drifted, riding the Lavender until she couldn’t gather the will to remember any longer.

________________

“And wake up, pretty girl.”

Awareness gathered slowly for Celia as the logic faded. Stretching languidly, she slipped her eyes open and peered around the cave, finding both Mary and Samuel there.

“How are you feeling?” Mary asked from beside her, and Celia paused to consider. She was warm, she was safe, and she had a pretty girl and a handsome man with her. They both seemed very interested in her nearly naked body.

I can hardly blame them, she thought with a giggle.

“Good!” She chirped, walking over to Samuel's lap and slipping into it, enjoying the feeling of heat pressed against her skin. “Better if you were kissing me,” she added, and he obliged her passionately. Distant thoughts clamored for her attention, but they were as unimportant as mist right now. She was safe with the two of them. A moment later, Samuel's hand claimed her breast, and she smiled warmly, purring in delight. “Feels really nice…" She sighed between lighter kisses.

“Glad to hear it, my little vixen,” he rumbled, shifting his kisses down her neck and collarbone. Each kiss left a little tingle of delight, pooling in the blonde woman's center. Deciding she should do more than just lay back, her hands moved to glide over his smooth chest and shoulders. He wasn’t the strongest of men she’d seen, but his body was sculpted, and that made a delightful liquid heat surge inside her.

“Mmmm, I'm getting all turned on,” she whispered with a giggle, earning another laugh from Samuel.

“And just from a few kisses, too. I can't wait to hear how you feel with my cock in you.”

Celia giggled, flustered by the brazen statement. Samuel was going to fuck her! She knew it would feel amazing, but wasn’t sure quite how she knew, aside from the man's confidence.

“Of course,” Samuel continued, “that's the main event. Wouldn't do to rush things.” His lips returned to hers, and Celia wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him in. The heat continued to build, and her hips started writhing, seemingly of their own volition. Celia could feel Samuel’s heat rising too, though he seemed considerably more in control of himself than she was.

Trailing her hand down Samuel's smooth, chiseled chest, she mewled softly in desire. “Eager little mortal, aren’t you?” He said with a warm smile. Picking her up carefully Samuel laid her back down in the soft nest of blankets with her head near Mary. The fae woman ran light fingertips down Celia's neck.

“You feel so excited, Celia. So eager and ready.” Mary's voice, lacking the power of trance but carrying a power all its own, curled around her, and she moaned with pleasure. “Good girls feel pleasure when they obey my voice. And you are a very, very good girl.”

Celia was a good girl? She was a good girl. That thought brought a delighted smile to her lips. Laying back with her head in Mary's lap, Celia saw Samuel’s pants vanish, revealing his cock. She had almost nothing to compare it to, and most of the ones she’d seen weren’t in situations they’d be hard, but it seemed a good length, and she shivered in excitement as he moved on top of her and kissed her breasts. Taking one of her nipples in his mouth, he kissed it, then softly grazed it with his teeth.

“You feel so open and vulnerable right now, Celia. He's going to slip inside of your dripping wet pussy. It feels so wonderful to open up like this with someone you want to share your body with, doesn’t it?” Mary's voice was correct, as it so often was. The feeling had been tainted when Gella had ordered Lauren and Tabitha, but here, she wanted this. She wanted Samuel to touch her and see her all over, leaving nothing hidden from his eyes or his touch, and she knew it would feel so wonderful. Thoughts of holding herself back or denying this felt flimsy and meaningless now. Why would she ever want to deny this?

After several more moments, during which Celia was afraid she’d melt from the needy heat coursing through her, Samuel finally smiled down at her and kissed her tenderly. Then, without a word, he shifted, and with a single powerful thrust he was inside Celia. The shock of pleasure turned the foundation of her mind to sand. Then, he moved, and that sand began to vibrate, forming patterns of lust and desire. Forming the patterns he wanted. She let those patterns form, simply letting herself exist in the whirl of sensation.

“You'll feel an echo of this perfect, pure pleasure each and every time you let the snaps take you,” Mary's voice whispered in her ears, and her eyes widened as the pleasure seared that deep into her mind. Two snaps, and she felt so sleepy, and the logic burned and raced in Indigo hues over the patterns of her mind.

Celia’s mind lost its cohesion. Snaps would send her sinking deep, and feeling so hot, only to halfway awaken to delicate feminine fingers on her nipples and a skilled tongue at her folds, drawing purrs and cries of delight from her lips. Samuel and Mary worked between them to keep her mind constantly off balance, open to each new sensation and surge of pleasure. The moment the young woman could feel her mind coalesce, Mary would seem to sense it, and snapped her back down into the patterns over and over again.

Mary's voice seemed to come not just from the faerie, but from all around her. She deserved to feel pleasure. She was proud of her body. She could drop her guard completely and focus on pleasure with those she wanted to share it with. More and more truths slipped deeper and deeper into Celia's mind.

The fae couple took their time, slowly exhausting Celia’s stamina until she couldn’t move any longer. Absently, she felt her body being wiped clean, then soft cloth being put over her, but all of that was lost in the giggly Lavender haze. Words settled themselves deeper and deeper into her sleeping mind, and with a final kiss from Mary, Celia's world dissolved into darkness.

________________

“Up you come, Celia,” Mary's voice called, drawing Celia from the depths. She wasn't sure where she had been, but following was as easy as breathing. Mary's voice promised love, warmth, and happiness if she followed it, so she did, up to near the surface. It was pleasant here, a suspended and distant feeling. She idly wondered if this was how Gella's Treasures felt, under her control, their eyes glowing softly with beautiful light. “Can you find the door for me, Celia?” Mary's voice cut through Celia's idle musings. She could indeed find it, but it seemed much less threatening now. It had faded to Reds, covered in vines and ivy, lashed shut and piled high with dirt. She knew it was there, knew it was Orange, but it couldn’t open any longer. After describing that, Celia heard Mary say something, but her words were muted and distant.

“All the way up now, Celia. Awake,” a new voice said.

Breaching the surface, it took a moment for her to reorient herself. Once she had, she blinked, looking around the cave. The first thing she noticed was the comfortable firelight had been replaced with glowing balls of pure magical light. Then she noticed Gella, sitting and looking at her with a strange, intense expression. The mage was dressed in breeches and leather armor, and had a rapier slung across her hips. It seemed different then the one she had wielded before, the blade a flat, dull looking metal. Noticing Celia's gaze, Gella tapped the weapon.

“Cold iron. Nothing beats its effectiveness when dealing with the fair folk,” she said calmly, then gestured with the weapon to behind Celia. The warrior turned and gasped.

Samuel and Mary had been bound with chains of that same cold iron, from the looks of it. Violet and Tabby stood over them, and both looked considerably different then they had that morning. Violet's demure maid’s dress had been exchanged for something that looked like ink, covering her body from the neck down. It barely glistened in the light of the orbs. The elven maid seemed as poised as ever, a slender dagger in her hand and her eyes scanning the room.

Tabby was, Celia noted with mild surprise, actually wearing clothing. Some of it. Her lithe, slender torso was still mostly exposed, with only a few straps across her chest. Flowing trousers of some kind of light fabric covered her legs. Her skin was the most striking difference, though. Along her arms and her exposed chest, and on the crown of her forehead, strange symbols had been seemingly painted on in green ink. They didn't glow like Violet's rune, and in other circumstances, Celia would have considered them merely tattoos, but by this point she knew better and just assumed them to be magic of some kind.

“I grew concerned when you didn't return after a few hours, Celia,” Gella said coolly. The warrior turned to her with a questioning look. “I am able to scry for your collar easily,” the mage explained. “Both to find its location, and to see its surroundings, as well.” She narrowed her eyes at the faeries in chains.

“Deborah, Samuel,” she intoned, and both of the fae winced. “This did not violate our compact outright, but I consider this to be overstepping your bounds. Despite how much I may agree with you that Celia is too tempting to pass up.” She rose to her feet, slowly making her way to Mary.

“I am not against sharing, as you know, but I will be consulted beforehand,” she said with surprising vehemence. Then, her expression softened. “Though you did help me by discovering something important. And you were right. I do enjoy puzzling out magic, and fae sorcery does fascinate me.” She smiled, then held up the rapier, smile growing wider. “I expect you to provide something in recompense, as per our compact.” The fae gulped in unison.

Mary looked at Gella, then Celia, then her bound husband, then sighed. “I accept.” She looked over at Celia, then smiled warmly. “It was fun. I hope to see you again, Celia. And… Gella, recompense?” Her smile turned coy, and she raised a hand weakly, then snapped twice.

Logic flowed back in. Warm logic, strewn with Reds she couldn’t quite place, but the logic all the same. She sighed, letting that pure pleasure wash her mind afire, letting herself sink into that deep peace. There was nothing to resist, and even if there was, Celia wasn’t sure if she would have taken it. The feeling of surrender was wonderful, and the smile it brought was light and free.

She wasn’t sure how long it was until she heard Mary’s voice. “How do you feel, Celia?” it asked, and the warrior was only too happy to answer. “Good.” A moment later, she added, “calm.” Another moment later, “turned on.”

It was true. The Indigo pleasure Mary had twined with the logic had worked its power on Celia. Her body felt pleasantly warm and receptive, and the few spare thoughts still drifting about were in a pool of languid Yellow. The truths that Mary had whispered slipped past. She deserved to feel pleasure. She was proud of her body. She could drop her guard completely and focus on pleasure with those she wanted to share it with.

“Good girl,” Mary said, sounding distracted, but Celia could hardly bring herself to worry. It wasn’t part of the logic, so she didn’t need to think about it. If she got to float more in this dark warm place, that was fine by her. “Now, in a moment you will hear a different voice. Gella's voice. The moment she says your name, you will feel her voice take on all the power of mine. Her snaps will take you under. Her voice will make you feel like mine will. Do you understand?”

Something stirred, and Celia frowned. Gella was… going to take over? She distinctly remembered not wanting that, remembered planning and plotting to escape and return to her own life. The image from her dream resurfaced. Soft Blue ropes binding her, controlling her like a marionette. Suddenly, the logic felt fainter, and she wanted to awaken, but couldn’t find a way back up. She was held here, in this dark place. Fear and anger came to her, sparking back to life, but this deep and this dark they were just that – sparks, not flames. “Do you understand, Celia? Answer.” Mary's voice was everywhere, and it had given her a command.

“I understand,” she heard herself respond, while her mind spun in darkness.

“Good girl.” Gella's voice. Gella's damnably, wonderfully, beautiful voice. The cleverness, the intelligence, the careful tone of every word. The voice she would be leashed to, the voice the logic wove around. No matter how good it would feel, silk ropes were still ropes. She could almost see them, no longer pure Blue but woven with Red, draped across her body. Like glittering silk, they were beautiful to look at. If she could just slip away from them, push them away. She had to find some way to…

“Celia.” Her own name, intoned like a spell.

The ropes grew taut, but there was no pain. Just an increasing pull, comfortable yet restrictive. She had no leverage, nothing with which to fight against them, and in the back of her mind, she knew how exquisite it would feel to stop and let them pull her. But she couldn't simply stop fighting. Her pride wouldn't allow it. As if sensing the fight, the logic in disarray, Gella whispered two words.

“Good girl.”

That simple compliment sparked Lavender and Green across her senses, drawing a little gasp from her. The ropes carried the jolt of pleasure deep into the warrior's body, and she faltered. She let the ropes slip around her, coiling like serpents, until she found a reserve of Reddened strength and held her ground. Controlled, but not broken, she resisted.

“Awaken with my kiss, my pretty knight. Fully and completely aware.”

Gella's lips were warm and soft, and the kiss little more than a gentle press, yet still it pulled Celia's mind up like iron to a magnet. She fluttered her eyes open, finding Gella looking down at her, supremely pleased with herself.

“Gods above, I hate you,” Celia said sourly. The mage didn't look offended at all. Quite the opposite, it just made her look more self-assured. She looked Celia in the eye and shook her head.

“No, you don't,”' she said confidently.

The worst part was, Celia had to concede, she was right. Was she angry at the mage for stealing her will away? Without doubt. Angry at the way she carried it off with effortless ease? Certainly. But she didn't hate the woman. She couldn’t bring herself to, and at this point, she didn’t know whether that was magic, her mind, or her true feelings. Anger at that filled her inner flame, a comforting, simple warmth once more, but she couldn't ignite the boiling incandescence of that morning. She settled for getting up and moving to her gear, which Mary and Samuel had helpfully stored in a little nook, and silently dressed herself.

Gella, content for the moment to leave Celia to her little rebellion, turned back to Tabby and Violet. “Go ahead and let them up, my Treasures. Gently, if you please.” The elf and beastkin busied themselves with the chains, and soon Samuel was standing up bringing his wife to her feet. He seemed none the worse for wear, though there were faint red lines where the chains had been on his skin, and from the intrigued leer he was giving Tabby the faerie had not been cowed by captivity.

“Now, I think we will be headed back home,” Gella said. Tabby grinned excitedly, ignoring Samuel’s attentions, and Violet simply nodded. “Deborah, Samuel?” The faeries winced again at the names. “I accept your terms of compact.” They looked satisfied with that, and Gella shook her head, dismissing them as she walked outside. The rain had blown itself out, though the evening sky was still covered in clouds.

Gella paused, letting out a long yawn. “It has been a very, very long day,” she announced, swinging herself up into the saddle of her mare. Two other horses whinnied and nickered in the evening air.

“Just two?” Celia asked, likewise getting into the saddle.

Tabby laughed in response. “As if any dumb horse could match me!”

With that, the cat-girl's body shimmered, a surge of power the same green as her eyes running along the black lines on her skin. Then, with a shockwave, Tabby was a blur, a significant portion of the way to the town already. The warrior was left blinking in surprise. “Tabby was trained as a monk, Celia,'' Violet supplied, urging her horse into a trot. Celia and Gella followed suit. “She fights unarmed and unarmored, and has physical abilities that can rival magic.”

Gella smiled fondly, looking out at the direction Tabby had run. For an absurd moment, Celia felt jealous that Gella wasn't smiling at her that way. That shocked her, and she tried to rationalize it away as lingering effects of her time spent under trance, but she knew that wasn’t it. Instead, deciding to change the subject, she pulled her horse up even with Gella's.

“So, you saw your prize getting stolen away and decided to come charging in?” She asked peevishly. Gella laughed a little, then yawned lightly. It felt odd to see just how normal the mage could seem. When she wasn't projecting that air of control, she seemed so… so human.

“Something like that,” the mage answered, then sighed, turning to face Celia with a much more serious expression. “I was arrogant with you, Celia. Both this morning, and letting you roam free.” She raised a hand as Celia opened her mouth to object. “Not in allowing you, but in letting you do so without warning. After I… upset you, with my Treasures this morning, I thought some freedom would ease your mind.” She sighed and shook her head. “Thankfully, you seem none the worse for wear.” She rolled her eyes. “Relatively speaking. Deborah was quite willing to explain what she did, and how, though she declined to mention her sorcery hadn’t been a part of it before we sealed our compact. Fae,” she added ruefully. “But still… if the theory is similar to taitneach…” Celia winced, but the word didn’t seem to have been charged with power. Gella raised her hand to where she had summoned that non-space, as if to find that note-taking crystal, but a yawn interrupted her, and she put her hand back down.

“What compact were you talking about?” Celia asked, remembering that word from the conversation. “You and Mary were talking about it.”

Gella simply shook her head. “Nothing you need to worry about, Celia. It was the easiest way to get what I wanted from them.”

“Oh, and you called her Deborah. And Samuel. Were those their actual names?”

“Yes,” the mage nodded. “Even someone unskilled in sorceries can use a Name, given willingly, as a connection to the fae. It was the price I extracted for their settling by Wand’s Reach.”

Celia considered bringing up that she had guessed one of their names, but decided against it. It seemed too much like boasting, and that would mean she cared about Gella’s opinion of her.

After a few more minutes, the memories of the confrontation had been sorted through, and the length of the day began to take its toll on Celia as well. Hypnotic trance was no substitute for proper sleep, it seemed. It was well into the night when they finally crossed the threshold of Cair Dwemor. Violet, who seemed completely unaffected by the late hour, to Celia’s mild annoyance, stayed behind to stable the horses as the two humans made their way inside.

“I love my Shadow more than I can say,” Gella grumbled as she and Celia climbed the stairs. “But sometimes, I swear she flaunts her elven abilities to spite me.” Celia blinked at the unguarded candor, and in that moment, she realized the mage was the most vulnerable she had yet been. Exhaustion was heavy in her eyes, and her normally graceful movements were sluggish.

She stopped in her tracks at the second story’s landing, letting the scenario play out in her mind. She could knock the mage out, dash outside, and get the horses from Violet. Even assuming the needles the maid employed reached her, she would have a head start and all her gear, more than enough to get out of the valley, at least, if she struck first. Could she? Would it be that easy? She shifted her stance slightly.

Gella turned to the warrior, rubbing her tired eyes with thumb and forefinger. “Celia. It's late. You’re as exhausted as I am. Even assuming you got past the gates, I would just find you in the morning. If you want to try running away again, please do wait until tomorrow. Preferably after breakfast. Tabby’s making pancakes.”

“I don’t know what those are,” Celia sighed. Really? Tempting her with food?

“You’ll love them. Come on, Celia. You need your rest.” And with that, she turned, moving down the corridor.

Celia nodded, then froze. Had she just… agreed with her enemy?

“I'm not surrendering,” she whispered defensively. “I'm just… just waiting for a more opportune moment!” Getting nothing in response besides a half-hearted wave over Gella’s shoulder, Celia trudged to her room and slipped into the nightgown that was already laid out for her.

Of course it was the softest, most comfortable nightgown she had ever worn. And of course the bed was as wonderful as it had been earlier. She considered her sleeping arrangements earlier in the day – moss – and her sleeping arrangements the previous days – a rickety, worn-down bed in loud New Gyr.

This is better, she thought drowsily, as she drifted off to sleep.