Her History Retold
Dulce woke the next morning feeling warm and comfortable. When she opened her eyes, she saw an arm draped over her. There was a knocking on the door, but she knew she shouldn’t open the door.
Next, she noticed that she was again in a nightgown, although she couldn't remember when that happened. Poison. A shiver went down her spine, but this time it was not accompanied by any actual cold. The knocking stopped and she was glad for the silence because there were so many things she needed to understand about her current situation.
“Draven?” She said the name carefully, uncertain what kind of response she would get.
“Are you alright, Dulce?”
“Who poisoned me?”
“The Unwashed.”
“How?”
“The arrow. It was dipped in something that was meant to put you under their control. You were not supposed to die there. Even if you had listened to Darinon, they weren’t going to let you go. His death was not your fault.”
“If we hadn’t gone in, they wouldn’t have killed him.”
“There were more Unwashed outside to prevent you from leaving without taking control of you. Darinon was never going to make it out of there alive, and he knew it. The Unwashed had been tracking you for three years, and we messed up. It is our fault that Darinon died.”
“How do you know any of this? You weren’t there.”
“I wasn’t. But my mentor was. Darinon was shouting to him because you were already falling under their influence.”
“Why didn’t he help Darinon? If the Unwashed already accomplished what they wanted, why didn’t your mentor take them down with Darinon?”
“That is not—” There was a pause, then Draven started again, “Darinon managed to kill all of the ones in the cave and several of the ones waiting outside while my mentor escaped with you. He was struck several times, but a tougher shifter you will never find.” There was something like pride in Draven’s voice as he added, “He has never failed at anything he has committed to, something that I hope to continue.”
“What kind of poison was it? How could it be used to control me?”
“We have not been able to understand the Unwashed methods. They steal magic users’ abilities and create unnatural… things out of them. Those magic users are under their complete control. Only a few of those who are out in the world are completely under their control because it takes a lot of their resources to control them from a distance.”
“What about influencing magic users? How does that work?”
There was a sigh, “Are you sure you are alright? I don’t know if your body will be able to take that level of intense cold again. You haven’t eaten and—”
“I’m okay.” Dulce interrupted. “Yesterday, I realized that something was wrong. Ever since the incident, I have been acting increasingly less like myself. It was small things at first, but by the time you found me, I was… really not myself any more. If they were really managing to influence me, I think that I can believe it. But how would they be able to do that remotely? How can they influence me if I wasn’t around anyone for a year?”
“The powder you used on Ignacio and that you tried to use on me, it was also poisoned. Don’t worry,” Draven immediately held her down before she could rise and panic. “It only works on magic users, not shifters. Ignacio made it home just fine, although I think that you are going to have to write to him so that he calms down.”
“Is he really angry?” Dulce felt guilty, but knew she deserved it.
“He is more worried than anything. Anger will probably come later, but he won’t move on with anything until he has proof that you are alright.” The way he said it sounded almost like Draven knew Ignacio personally.
A few things started to click in her mind. “You said that you don’t remember your family.”
“I never knew them.”
“You don’t act like a champion. Almost everything about you is very… atypical for the way they interact with seers.”
“Yes, that is certainly true.”
“Have you ever worked with champions?”
There was a pause. “Rarely. They only recently started to listen. The only champion that I trust is Maverick, and I dare say I am the only champion he trusts.”
“I’ve heard of Maverick. He is rather spirited and reckless.”
A derisive laugh startled her. “I have to say that is a very apt way of describing him. How do you think he got his name?”
“But you just said you trust him.”
“When it comes to the important things, I would trust him with my life, and he knows that he can put his life in my hands.”
“You would die for him?”
“I would never seek death to save him. We were taught not to throw our lives away. That’s probably why I have worked so closely with Anders so much over the recent years.”
“That weird guardian? I thought he usually went into Unwashed territory alone.”
“Only about 50 percent of the time. He isn’t interested in throwing his life away, which is why he is even older than me. When he is afraid that he can’t succeed alone, or thinks that he may be too late, he asks for my help. Although that has been changing, and I fear the loss of his sister is adversely affecting his judgment. Like you, he blamed himself for someone else’s death, and just like with you, I keep telling him that it was not his fault. You both tend to overestimate your influence on others.”
“Hey!” Dulce felt insulted by the way he said it, then she realized that he was probably smiling because there was a hint of teasing in Draven’s voice.
“Then stop blaming yourself and let the fault fall with those with whom it belongs. He needs to realize that her fate was not his fault, just as you need to come to terms with the fact that Darinon’s death was not your fault. You aren’t one of the gods—you can’t even do typical healing magic. You don't get to go claiming that you were responsible for someone else’s life.”
“Now you are just being mean.”
“I am being blunt and putting it in a way that is designed to make you think about it from a different angle. You don’t have to accept it, but you will have a hard time looking at your own history from the same angle. Don’t worry. It isn’t the only truth I will make you face either.” Dulce was then startled as his arm tightened around her. “I won’t unleash all of it at once, though, so don’t worry. You deserve compassion more than anyone I have ever met, and I think even I will be able to exercise it, even though compassion goes against my teachings and nature.”
“Then how do your instructions guide you? Because I know champions and seers fight side-by-side, ready to die for each other.”
“Yes, and that is quite foolish for a species that is still at risk of going extinct.”
“I think I remember the first time I met you.”
“Really?” There was a hint of emotion to this, whether curiosity or dread, she wasn’t quite sure.
Dulce hazarded, “You moved unbelievably fast. I have only seen that kind of speed once before.”
“Yes, I know.”
“The leader was quite shocked, and he died yelling about an assassin. Then you stepped forward.”
“Your memory of the event seems to have returned.”
Dulce laughed a little. “Is that disappointment in your voice?”
“If it is, then I apologize.”
“He wasn’t entirely wrong, was he? To think that you were an assassin, I mean.”
“I can assure you that my other form is jaguar, not panther.”
“That isn’t what I meant. You already admitted to knowing Orion, and it seems very likely that you know Ignacio. From the way you talk about him.” A thought struck her, “Wait, did he know you were there? Was that why he appeared to talk to me? Were you the source he mentioned?”
“I was just as surprised that he emerged to talk to you as he was when he found out that I had been watching you for a while.”
“He didn’t notice you?”
She felt a shrug behind her, “I can’t help it that I am better at sticking to the shadows than he is.”
“Draven?”
“Yes?” There was something like annoyance in his voice, but from the way he tensed, she knew that he was apprehensive about what she was about to ask. She decided to change the topic a little.
“Are you uncomfortable talking about yourself? If so, we can focus on what you want me to know.”
“I am very uncomfortable talking about myself because the people I deal with either already know or don’t live long enough to find out.”
“Then is it alright if I ask you a few more personal questions? You can tell me if not.”
“No,” his voice was soft, “you deserve to know as much about me as I know about you. If you are going to trust me, I cannot keep hiding things from you.”
“Who was your mentor?”
“Is.”
“What?”
“Is. He is my mentor, and probably will still be around when I am long dead.”
“You really admire him, which means he must be exceptional.”
“That is definitely a very accurate assessment of him, although most people would not mean it in a nice way.”
“Clearly he must be someone worthy of respect if you feel that way about him.”
“I think so, yes, but there are few who would agree.” Draven took a deep breath, and Dulce was very aware of the way his muscles moved against her. For the first time, she felt a blush on her cheeks at the realization that he was still shirtless. “Ignacio was right about him, although you definitely did not seem to believe him.”
“What?” Dulce froze, forgetting the temporary distraction. “You were listening to our conversation?”
“I was sent to follow you, and until that night, there really wasn’t much to monitor.”
“You were assessing me?”
“I had to. We knew that you were under the influence or worse. It was my task to figure out which of the two, then act accordingly.”
“So, if you had thought that I was under the control of the Unwashed, you would have killed me?”
There was a drawn-out silence. “It isn’t something I want to think about now.”
“What? Why?” Dulce was shocked by the strange admission.
“Even before I was able to isolate the poison, I saw what you must have been like before they tried to corrupt you. I heard about how Ignacio rejected you, but you still treated him with kindness that night. There were a couple of times where I thought about stepping in at the tavern, but I had to follow your lead. Despite what that man did, you just accepted it. You still passed on your vision to someone that I thought you should have—even under their influence, you were… amazing. I have known seers, mystics,” he said mystic with a note of derision, “and druids, but none of them were like you. That was when I realized that your healing ability wasn’t like anyone else’s. Where others can work to heal the physical, your ability lies with the mind and spirit. Before that night, I would have scoffed at the idea, but that is why people are drawn to you. And that was what made you the target that the Unwashed couldn’t allow to live. You were meant to be corrupted and killed. They couldn’t even manage that because they don’t have any understanding of who you are or what makes you so special.”
The room fell silent, and Dulce felt as if the warmth behind her had gotten a little hotter.
“Are you blushing?” She turned to look at him as she asked. To her surprise, Draven was blushing a lot as he looked into her eyes. Before he could say anything, she beamed, “That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.”
“Don’t take it the wrong way! I—”
She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. Draven didn’t move as she pressed her lips against his, then began to run her tongue along his lips.
His arms snaked around her body and pulled her to him. His mouth opened a little and Dulce slipped her tongue between his lips. Gently, she ran her tongue along his, and slowly, he started to respond. She pulled away and smiled at him.
Draven looked confused. “You should be careful. I don’t know how champions and seers say thank you to each other, so I might get the wrong idea.”
Dulce looked at him, feeling the blush rise on her cheeks. With Ignacio’s rejection of her being something she had considered a lot in recent days, she did not want to drive Draven away too. “I just—I'm sorry, I just got a little over-excited.”
“Excited?” He looked even more confused.
“I mean, I just—” she moved to the edge of the bed and rolled over, “I know that you aren’t interested, so don’t worry, I'm not going to make you feel uncomfortable.”
“Wait, what?” Draven’s hand moved around her wrist. “Are you saying—it almost sounds like you are saying that you—”
Dulce looked into his orange eyes, and instead of a cold stare or indifferent air, there was uncertainty, confusion, and hope. “Oh! You... you aren’t offended?”
He shook his head and sat up.
“If I want to... do it again, would that be alright?”
“I wouldn’t say no if you want to, but you would be giving me the impression that you, umm…”
Dulce’s expression melted into one of understanding. Leaning forward, she kissed him gently again. Draven’s hand moved up to her head and gently stroked her hair, but there was something different about the way he moved. There was nothing of the calming influence he had exerted on previous occasions. This time, the movement was more primal, as if he was asking for permission for something else. Dulce moved closer and she felt his arm slip around her waist. Her hand went to his chest, and she had to separate her lips from his for a moment to catch her breath. When she opened her eyes, his were closed. Her other hand gently touched his face, and his eyes flew open.
A knocking on the door caused them to jump apart. Dulce looked at him, “Are you expecting anyone?”
Draven shook his head, “No one comes to visit me here.”
“Why?”
“Because I never want people in my home.”
Dulce’s mouth opened a little as she stared at him, “And you brought me here? Not wanting me here?”
“If I didn't want you here, the agreement was that Maverick would take over and manage you.”
“So you don’t mind me being here?”
He slowly shook his head, “I was not lying when I said you are different from anyone else I have ever met. The reason why people are so deferential to you, refusing to point out your flaws and faults, is because of that. But I was never trained to be gentle or kind, so cannot play that game. I cannot lie to you about the situation.”
Dulce stared at him, “So, you don’t want to tell me what I want to hear or hide things from me to spare my feelings?”
“No!” He was louder than he meant to be, and the knocking that they had been ignoring started again. “That was exactly why they were able to manipulate you like they did. No one could be straight or honest with you, not even the people under their control. All they could do was send you away, and hope that without anyone around you, you would change. It didn’t work.”
“But you hid my memories from me. Didn’t you do that to spare my feelings?”
“No, it was necessary to help draw out the poison. I wasn’t sure how they were influencing you still without contact. Without knowing that, I couldn’t find the poison in your system—it was clear there was some kind of link.”
“How do you know all of this?”
Draven looked toward the window as the knocking died down. “I’ve been working to stop it since the assassins realized what was going on. I’m the one who talked to Anders about it, cluing him into it. The champions wouldn't listen to me, just as the Order refuses to believe Anders, but until the last few years, it was enough to have the assassins.”
“And—” she frowned, then shook her head, “the champions didn’t listen to you until recently.”
“They still won’t listen to me. They are listening to Maverick.”
“Do the champions know that you have me?”
“Of course. They may not want to work with me, but like the Order and Anders, they know that they need me. They would be foolish to try to stop me given everything that has happened in Ishtar, and they know that they had no idea how to save you. Basically, you were stuck with a last-ditch effort to save your life. Not that you made it easy.” He gave her a sheepish smile. “Trying to rescue someone who is suicidal and being monitored by a dangerous cult, it wasn’t the kind of thing I would have thought I could manage successfully.”
“But you did.”
“That remains to be seen. The poison is still in your system, which means you are still at risk. And I don’t know how to draw it out. Yet.”
“It would have been easier just to let me die.”
Slowly he shook his head. “Not after seeing you interact with others. After that, I agreed that you had to survive. At the risk of sounding melodramatic, the survival of the champions and seers could very well rest on you making it out of this alive and well.”
Dulce felt herself flush as she noticed that the knocking had stopped. “I think the person is gone.” Turning around, she leaned in and kissed Draven before he could say anything else. She pushed him down onto the bed and carefully rested her body over his. Draven’s hand moved down her side and rested on her lower back. Dulce moved her leg so that she straddled him. The champion’s hand moved further down and pulled her toward him. She pressed her hips into his, and he began to pull up her night gown. As one hand slid between her thighs, the other continued to pull her gown over her head. Once her clothing was removed, Draven rolled her over onto her back. His orange eyes looked down at her, and there was something in them that she had never seen, as if years of repressed emotions were finally bursting forth. His head moved a little as he looked at her, his eyes taking in her body.
“You have seen my body before.”
“Not like this.”
“What do you mean? Nothing has changed.”
“You are awake.”
“That doesn’t change anything about my body.”
“It changes the way I see it.”
The way he said it clicked in her head. Draven had never looked at her with any interest because she had been unconscious. “Doesn’t that go against everything the assassins train about a target?”
“It was one of the main reasons why we decided that I shouldn’t pursue that life course.”
“Not quite an assassin, not quite a champion.”
His eyes looked down at her as if in disbelief of the situation.
Dulce moved a hand up to his face and another to his pants. Undoing the belt, she gently ran a hand down his arm. “It’s okay, Draven.”
“It—you—why would you be interested in me?”
Dulce laughed until she realized he was serious. “Why would you be interested in me? I can’t have children anymore.” Her hand went to the scar.
His eyes followed, then went back to hers. Slowly, he moved down and began to kiss the scar. “I never wanted any children.”
“I did.”
He stopped and looked up at her, “I know. But not everyone will judge you based on your reproductive ability. I still find you attractive, if not more so, knowing what you have been through.”
“So you like me because I can’t have children?”
Draven moved up and kissed her lips. Her breath was shallow when he pulled back. “You talk too much,” he whispered to her. “I like you just the way you are, and I wouldn’t change a thing. But before you can find another way of belittling yourself, I will show you that I mean it.”
“Who’s talking too much now?” She looked up into his eyes.
His smile was positively angelic as he looked down at her. Pushing her leg to the side, he ran a hand down her thigh. Tilting her hips up, he leaned over and kissed her as he moved inside of her.
Dulce was taken by surprise at how direct he was. As soon as her body began to move in response, he had already worked her up, and she found herself moaning into his chest as she orgasmed. Breathless, she found her body already moving to his as soon as she began to relax. His hands moved around her hips, adjusting her legs so that they spread a little further apart. This time, he worked slower, gently pushing his tip into her a few times until she groaned and tried to slide him further into her. There was a look of satisfaction in his eyes as he watched her. As soon as she opened her eyes and noticed, he leaned over and kissed her as he pushed much further into her. With a satisfied moan, she pressed her breasts against him and enjoyed the feel of his body on hers.