Trinket (Reverse Harem)

On Getting Caught

 "You're a flatterer," I told Korr before he kept talking, because it was making me nervous. That was the second time (at least) that he'd told me I was something he remembered. There was something about him, too--the memories of snow, blizzards, a quiet mountain.

And given the God of Barren Branches had personally escorted me across.... whatever the fuck desert I had actually crossed... talking about memories was somewhat of a fraut conversation.

But I had other... things... in my head too. Like being able to see that memory of the weddings in the Haven city, or how I'd felt, or... just other things that popped up in the headcheese that was my mind.

Maybe those bugs had done something to him my shreds of magic couldn't heal. Maybe there was something about me that made him delusional. Like put him under some kind of strange spell--his cold magic had brought that one...vision...to the surface. Maybe... maybe... could I Sing? Maybe I had some weird, demented magic. Soir seemed obsessed with me.

Humans thought I was human. Shifters thought I was shifter.

But that might have bene an illusion cast byt he God of Barren Branches.

My consorts wanted to believe I'd been hidden away, or locked up like stolen treasure. But what if I'd been locked away? They refused to consider the possibility I was a monster. But I'd clearly been put into that dream-bubble by some extraordinary and profane magic, probably with the help of Ravens (maybe even by Ravens) or even the God of Barren Branches Himself. Or the God of Barren Branches had decided to intercede.

I touched my scars as my seams shifted and my parts and patches and headcheese-brain reminded me they existed. My consorts didn't want to consider it, but maybe I was a monster. A terrible, dangerous monster with weird, sick magic. Like Raven Songs existed, maybe...

Necromancy worked. I didn't know how, but necromancers existed. Not that I'd met one, but Korr clearly had. On multiple occasions. Due to Ethat's... proclivities.

"I am very good at courtly nonesense, but with you, it's sincere," Korr said. He caressed my cheek with a cool hand, thoughtful and far away for a moment, until a banging on the front door got both our attention.

Itek sauntered down the steps towards the first floor. He gave us a wicked grin.

I blushed.

Korr ran his thumb over the scars on my shoulder. I tensed, but it didn't hurt. Just felt... odd. He thumbed the large, tangled one, then smoothed his hand over the mass of scar tissue on my back. Below us, the front doors ground open.

Asund, having put back on his clothes, tensed.

"What is it?" I asked, keeping my voice hushed.

"I--it's my brother."

For the first time I'd known him, Korr actually went pale and whispered, "Shit."

Well, we were screwed (in the not-fun way) if Korr had suddenly hit the oh shit level of diplomacy. I wasn't an expert on diplomacy, but oh shit sounded like run for it.

Korr hastily finished shrugging his shirt over his shoulders, looked down at himself, ran a hand through his tangled braids, then asked Asund in a low whisper, "Why is he here? He should be headed to the Lord-Wolf or Lord-Raven."

"The hell I know," Asund growled back.

"Then it's not a formal visit so he best not be hoping for a formal greeting." Korr warned Asund, aggravated. Korr hastily pulled the mused braids from my own hair and fluffed it, all before I could react. Asund went ahead by a few steps while Korr escorted me on one frosty arm and I tried not to panic because the wolves would smell panic.