And when she returned, he sought her out. He, too, had recently re-emerged and had a hunger that couldn’t be satiated on his own. Eventually she was bringing him ‘elven’ gifts for the purpose of his studies on life and death, and he was repaying her in satiating their mutual desires.
He helped her a lot, and she’d have been a fool to deny it. The dark, moody elf had new desire, new light to her life. No longer was she content to wallow in sadness or boredom, she sought her own fun, with her large troll enjoying every thought in her twisted mind, every act her body committed. Every terrible atrocity they committed together drove the two closer, thriving on the excitement as a predator and the carnality of their existence together.
They had grown close in their time together, going so far as to confess the mutual burning for one another that would cause them to commit horrors to anyone who attempted to come between the two and their specific brand of fun.
She sighed, leaning back in her overstuffed chair, hugging a pillow to her nude body, slumbering restlessly. She got so little sleep lately, and though she craved it, when she got a moment she could never seem to find it. Her legs were flopped over one side of the armrest, her head curled in between where the arm met the back. Her tiny, pink body contrasted with the black of the chair, her soft hair spread over the arm carelessly. Without warning or sound, she sensed the door opening, and a tiny ‘click’ of it being closed and locked.
Fighting a wide grin on her face, she closed her eyes as she heard Jumwa’s feet thud over the black-carpeted floor. He came over to her, softly caressing her bare arm, grinning as she moved with the tickle.
“Up, hm?” he grinned, looking down at her.
She smiled, shaking her head.
“D’at’s too bad, den. I had a surprise for ju.”
Immediately her eyes shot open and she sat up, dropping the red pillow to her lap, looking up at him eagerly. He grinned wider, bending down to give her a tender kiss on her forehead, followed by a rough kiss on her lips. They kissed, frantic for one another, though it had only been a few hours since they had last seen one another. Slowly he raised his hand to her jaw line, moving her head to the side, looking out into a large bedroom, tinted black through the one way mirror. She glanced around, and then looked back up at him confused.
“Ja?” she questioned, looking back at the room.
“Notice anyt’ing?” he smiled.
She looked around the room and, indeed, did notice a few things. The enormous bed was neatly made, pillows stacked on it properly, “she learned some house keepin’ skills?” she grinned, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back in the chair, moving her feet to his legs, rubbing against him. He shook his head slowly, “no, I made de bed.”
She laughed, leaning back lazily into the cushions, “well then, she has ju trained. Congratulations.”
He grinned darkly and laughed deeply in a manner that said he was laughing at her, rather than with her, “look hardah, hm?”
She stared back at the room, searching them with her generally keen eyes, noting that, indeed, the room was missing a few more things than usual. Though all the furniture remained, the clothing that was usually flung over the chairs and dressers were more sparse than usual, and a few keepsakes had been taken. In fact, she noticed on closer inspection, the black silk sheets on the bed were not the same as the ones usually there. The fringes were slightly different.
Kaesa looked up at Jumwa curiously, “huh?”
Once more he leaned in, kissing her tenderly, “we are alone.”
She leaned in, whispering, though there was no need, “she moved out?”
He nodded slowly, a slight twinkle of excitement in his eyes, “how would ju feel sleeping in de Chieftain’s bed tonight, hm?”
Kaesa jumped up, the pillow falling to the floor between them as she jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, kissing his face happily, “congratulations, Chieftain!”
Draeka walked from the Keep swiftly, away from the drinking and the sorrow and the memories of her dead lover that so overwhelmed her; clouding her judgment. It was no longer Zij’s house, but Jumwa’s, and she was neither his lover nor his right hand as she saw it. The Tribe was her family, and she would do everything in her power to help and protect them, but she needed to be strong to do that. Be independent. She needed to be alone to start.