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[Galathan]

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Her hands slid over his chest, along his shoulders, and down his back like silk. He felt like he was wrapped up in a warm quilt in the dead of cold. Warmth and sensual feeling flowed through his body, enraptured, as the red-headed woman settled delicately into his lap. The world disappeared, spinning off into the blackness of subconsciousness, leaving only her and her touch.

His chest felt hollow, and it staggered with each forced breath of air. Breathing, it would seem, had become much more difficult for a number of reasons. He could do little more than feebly put his hands on her waist and look up into her glazed eyes. She wore a wide grin which covered more of her than her clothing.

Fingers, oh-so-delicate fingers, ran up the back of his neck and into his hair. She lowered her full lips to his and allowed for her tongue to explore freely where it may. Her chest pressed and heaved gently against his, the warmth of her skin and body creating a cocoon around him. He could have sworn he detected something a little . . . different in her movements, her touches, her kiss. Something almost emotional, and not all-together business-as-usual. She agonizingly moved her lips away, and leaned back in his lap, resting her elbows on the table behind her with her eyes closed and a blissful, euphoric smile on her lips.

“Do you like my touch, Galathan?” The words rolled smoothly, quietly from her parted lips.

His cheek throbbed along the long, elegant scar almost as a reminder, and his eyes glistened with wetness. His fingertips blazed with feeling as he touched her hips, and his skin crawled and shivered wherever she touched. He was overwhelmed by heightened awareness and perhaps a little something else. A something that he knew much better than to have, for it could cost him dearly. Plus, it was not fitting for business to have such raw-suited emotions. Though, in spite of his mind yelling for him to get a grip, tears rolled down his cheeks freely.

Her lips formed a bit of a pout. “Aww, c’mere.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as graceful and gentle as a mother, pulling his head to rest against her collarbone. She soothingly ran her hands over his back as it shook with almost imperceptible sobs.

“Handsome, handsome Galathan . . .” She crooned, her words came from her mouth slow and sweet. “You do drive the ladies wild . . . Even me.” She smiled coyly down at the top of his golden locks. Salty, liquid-hot tears fell silently on her skin. He felt a pit in his stomach that felt like to be the size of an Orc’s fist. A certain nagging pulling sensation on the inside telling him to be honest with Daeynaries. Why did he have such a feeling? Why should he care? Galathan couldn’t answer those questions. Or rather, he didn’t want to answer those questions.

He composed himself, blinking his eyes almost wearily and then wiping the streaks from his face. He managed a smile, looking up at Daeynaries’. Soft red hair framed her face, and her head was so close to his, that it blocked out everything else around them but her.

“So you do like my touch?” She asked again, coyly.

The tips of his fingers went under the edges of her shirt, touching her soft warm skin. “As much as I like the feel of you.” She giggled almost child-like, snuggling the front of her body closer against him.

In spite of harnessing the surge of raw sensations, his smile faded and his hands dropped to his sides. “I’m sorry.” He said plainly. He knew that apology was for many things, many of which he was certain she had no idea of. “It’s greedy of me.”

A light spark in her eyes danced mirthfully. “It’s not greedy of you.” She started, her voice was reassuring and even carried a twinge of concern. She slid cat-like from his lap and brought her lips close to his earlobe. “You have been deprived for a long, long time. You’re savoring it.”

Galathan sat in his chair, looking straight ahead of him, oblivious to the goings on of the world outside of his own. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he felt the familiar stirring of Bubbles in his cloak. The little green baby duck would have a lot to tell him.

Her lips brushed silkily against his ear as she whispered. “You are going to have a very special night. But not this night. Soon.” It was more of a threat than a promise. Before the words fully registered in his mind, Daeynaries left with a bit more sway in her hips than necessary.



* * *



Jack had done a great job. The man was truly a professional scoundrel, as he said in his own words. Galathan honestly did not believe that Jack would have been able to pull it off, but there was the proof that he did. Jovrick sat bound inside the Silver Lotus Freehold. A small, remote fortress nestled in the wild lands of Felluca. There would be no strangers to stumble across it.

Galathan left Jovrick in the capable hands of Dragon’s Shadow. Dragon was tall and formidably built. He reminded Galathan of a stout Umbran tree. He was dressed in dark flowing clothes and a black lotus hood. He had barbed wire wrapped around both biceps. His voice was deep and gravely, like rocks grinding against each other. Or an ill-tempered dragon gnawing on the bones of an unwitting victim. It was a haunting voice, and it sent chills down Galathan’s spine. Dragon would refer to everyone as ‘Citizen’. Probably to convey a sense of authority over others, Galathan mused. A sense of power and command. Or perhaps it was a way to classify those unfortunate to be left in his presence as lesser beings; a way to make it easier to inflict pain without remorse. Galathan knew that he left Jovrick in the right hands.

A smile crept across Galathan’s lips as he approached the doors to the holding cell that Jovrick was in. A charming woman was leaning against the wall by the door. Her auburn hair was tied loosely back and hung down her leather-clad back. Her deep green eyes looked weary, if not distant, as if they had been looking upon something for far too long that was not to their liking.

“Hello Belladonna, did he say anything? What did you learn?” Galathan stopped in front of the woman.

“He is a man who is wrapped up in so many layers of lies and facades that I don’t believe he even truly knows who he is anymore. He said that he is using Daeynaries to control the flow of Euphoria and make money. She is his investment.”

Galathan nodded, and almost if on queue, the door opened and Dragon’s Shadow stepped into the hall, closing the door behind him. Belladonna’s eyes lit up like candles and smiled at him.

“How did it go?” Galathan addressed Dragon’s Shadow plainly.

“I hunt for heroes. I have yet to find any.” He stated cryptically. He walked on past Galathan and Belladonna followed him, leaving a somewhat confused Galathan behind. Galathan shrugged his shoulders and went into the cell. The only way he was going to find any further information was by addressing Jovrick himself.

Jovrick did not appear to be quite as spirited as he did earlier. He had the look of someone who had endured hardship and suffering. Galathan could smell it in the air.

“How are ya feeling?” Galathan closed the door behind himself and leaned against it as casual as can be.

“I’ve been in higher spirits.” Jovrick stated. His tone sounded different than before. Gone was the silver tongue, and in its stead was something more complacent and tamed.

Galathan mulled over in his head what he was told by Belladonna. Galathan believed what he was told. He had no reason to believe any different. The man would have little reason to lie or embellish when such physical pain was involved, especially at the expert hands of Dragon’s Shadow.

Galathan appraised Jovrick. The slouch in his shoulders suggested that he was broken enough to talk plainly, and not skirt the subject as he was prone to do. The furrow in his brow belayed his want for freedom from his prison. He would be more cooperative.

“What is it you want out of life?” Galathan ran his fingers through his golden locks of hair.

Jovrick’s eyes regarded Galathan, and a smile crossed his sweat-slicked lips. “Wealth, power, riches . . . The usual.”

“And what does Daeynaries mean to you, exactly?”

Jovrick’s smile grew even wider. “She is my investment. I use her to control the drug and the money. She has her uses.”

Galathan’s fingers played with the edge of a belt pouch absently. The contents were almost entirely gone, and only a tiny portion of white powder lay at the bottom. A thought passed through his head.

“Do you consider yourself a businessman, Jovrick?”

His tongue refound some of its lost silver. “I look after my investments.” His teeth shined in the torch light as he smiled.

“What if I told you that I had a business offer for you? One that would provide you with the means to obtain what it is you seek . . . Power, riches . . .?”

He raised an eyebrow intrigued. “I would be most interested in hearing this offer.”

The two men smiled an understanding smile at one another. They were two businessmen about to make an agreement.
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Galathan
"Survivor of Ormus"