For the First Time

*Warning* The following RP story is mature. It contains suggestive language and themes. Reader discretion is advised. (It is not that bad, likely rated R but you've been warned in case you are not interested.)

The door creaked as she pushed on it, loud enough to draw the eyes of the nearby patrons. Biara winced; she had been trying to avoid attention as much as possible. She looked down, avoiding the eyes that trailed after her as she entered the run down tavern.

The first thing that she noticed was the smell. It was sweaty bodies, various types of smoke, and cooking food all mixed together in a general haze of disgusting odor. She braced herself a moment before moving onward, hoping the crowded common room didn't notice her hesitancy. She had learned already that in this part of Silvermoon, where the ruins butted up against the docks, to appear weak or vulnerable would lead to most certain death.

She shouldn't have come to the seedy little dive where the food probably tasted as bad as it smelled, but after days of hiding alone in the tiny room that they'd been lent by the orphanage, she just couldn't take it anymore. Her own conjured food, while adequate, was designed for battle or travel rations. She simply had never bothered to learn how to conjure up a variety of dishes; she'd always had servants to cook her food. If she had to taste the same cherry frosted cakes again she was likely to scream. Because of this, she'd decided to make the dangerous journey to the tavern while Alanth was out of their hiding place on business; likely seeing to their final travel arrangements out of the city.

She made her way deeper into the crowded common area, avoiding drawing too near to anyone as she headed towards the bar where there was food being served. Several tables had active card games, and one had an arm wrestling competition going on. She took this in with barely a glance, her eyes on her goal and her tattered cloak pulled over the more expensive but patched dress she wore. If anyone saw it, she'd be in serious trouble in this place.

As she made her way past the final tables, a thick arm shot out, blocking the gap between two of the poorly held together wooden slabs. The owner of the arm, a Sin'dorei who was so muscular that Biara immediately suspected he was part orc, looked down on her with a grin.

“What have we here lovely?” he said, his voice menacing. “Care to make some coin this evening?”

Biara's eyes widened just slightly, just for a moment before she shook her head. “No sir, I've come for some food that's all.”

The Sin'dorei laughed, and behind her others took up the chuckling. “What, my coin's not good enough for you?” he said with a wicked grin on his face. He loomed closer, towering over her.

“Your coin is fine, but I've no desire for it,” She replied, her voice calm. “I came to eat.”

“You here that boys? She came to eat,” he said in a mocking tone. Biara tried to dart around him but one of his hands clamped down on her shoulder and he shoved her backwards. She windmilled back, crashing into another Sin'dorei that had stepped up behind her. Judging by their garb, she was surrounded by at least three sailors from one of the moored ships.

The man she had bumped into laughed, shoving her again into his friend, who in turn shoved her into the large Sin'dorei that had originally blocked her way. All three laughed as she brought her hands up to fend them off. The large elf simply chuckled more and pushed one of her shoulders, whirling her around.

She slammed face first into another elf's chest, and he reached down and grabbed her by the wrists, holding her hands in place. She looked up, her eyes meeting the other's, their gazes locked.

It was Alanth.

As he looked down at her, holding her wrists in his firm grip, he saw something in her eyes that he didn't expect. There was a pleading there, an utter look of despair that begged him to aid her. It was not the look of the weak, not the look of someone who feared the danger around them. He could tell in that single glance what was going through her mind. He could feel it in the heat of coming off her hands, in the thrum of magic under the surface of her skin.

With a few whispered words, she could kill everyone around her with her magic. With those same words, she would be damning herself to be just like her mother, like the elf that had overthrown her house and killed so many innocents that they were beyond counting. She was pleading with her gaze for him to help her, to stop her before she let herself go, before she couldn't control it any longer.

He didn't answer her. He didn't really need to. He simply looked over her head, his ice cold gaze meeting the largest of the three sailors. “This one's my property for the night.”

The largest of the three frowned and opened his mouth to speak, “Here now! We saw her...first...”

His voice trailed off as Alanth stared him down. No other words passed between them, just the basic understanding that if he finished the sentence he'd die before he had a chance to drawn breath again. Alanth looked away, not even acknowledging the three fools any further as he hauled Biara by the wrists, twirling her around and marching her for the door. Behind them, catcalls rose up and the largest sailor could be heard shouting, “She was too scrawny for all three of us anyway! Good riddance!”

The voices trailed away as he pushed her through the doors and into the alleyway that served as a street. He moved ahead of her, pulling her along by one wrist now faster than the stately pace at which she was used to walking. She stumbled along behind him, looking like she was resisting but actually understanding perfectly well what was going on. One hint that he had ulterior motives, one whiff that he had come to 'save' her and they would have had to murder a half-dozen people to escape. Even now she could feel the eyes watching her, taking in her form, wondering how much he would pay her. They had to keep up the charade all the way home, until it was safe.

********************

The trip was short, mercifully so. Her legs hurt from stumbling after him and she felt somewhat embarrassed by the way he was dragging her, but she knew the game. She hadn't become a Magistrix because she was stupid, and this was his world, his realm of expertise. She was not about to gainsay him when doing so might risk their lives.

The door to the orphanage banged open and he dragged her up the stairs towards the small room that they had been given as a hiding spot. It was in the attic and was always hot and uncomfortable and it had no windows to let the sunlight in during the day, but it was the best she was liable to get and she was grateful for even that much to shelter her right now.

He yanked her into the small room and slammed the door shut behind him, whirling her around by the wrist he still held. His gaze was filled with anger as he opened his mouth to berate her.

“Of all the stupid, air-headed things you could have done! They are looking for you EVERYWHERE, if they find you they're going to kill you! Is that what you want? Do you want them to find and kill you and finish what your mother started? How many times do we have to have this conversation?”

Alanth stared at her, their eyes meeting again. He expected her to protest, to defend her actions, or maybe to cry again as she'd been doing for days. He didn't care, he had to drill it into her head that she was hunted prey and only by using their heads would the two escape.

What he was not expecting was for her body to slam into his, forcing his back against the closed door behind him. Her ruby red lips met his with an almost animal intensity, a desperate need alight in her eyes like the fires of her magic. Caught off guard, it was all Alanth could do for a moment to return the kiss, slowly coming to the understanding of what she was doing.

All of her fear, her desperation, rage and despair was there behind the action. The urgent need to free herself from it all, to escape and simply be alive for a moment in time racing through her blood as she kissed him again, pressing hard against him. No stranger to the fairer sex, Alanth quickly regained his suave composure, his arms coming up behind her and his touch inducing a seeming frenzy within her as he pressed his hands against her back. He could feel her slender hands, adept at the difficult movements of spellcasting tearing at the laces of his breeches, defeating lace after lace.

He smiled as they broke apart for a moment, looking again into her eyes and seeing a burning determination to have what she wanted right then and there. There was no hesitation in him as he looked back at her; they both needed to feel a moment of freedom from their fears. With one smooth motion he picked her up, feeling her legs wrap around his waist as he carried her towards the bed and tossed her down onto the fur-covered straw mattress. She looked up at him from there, her gaze burning into him and not a word passing between them.

It was her turn to be surprised as Alanth drew a dagger from his belt and leaned forward with one smooth motion. The deadly sharp knife flashed, slitting every single lace on the front of her dress at once, practically destroying the garment. With a casual toss the weapon flew through the air, landing point first on the nightstand next to the bed. She smirked, sliding the torn fragments of what she'd been wearing off her body; she shouldn't have been wearing the flashy dress anymore anyway, it didn't fit their objectives of laying low.

Alanth had to stop and stare at what lay before him as she looked up at him again. Her naked body, like her face, was covered with magical wards and runes that were almost works of art. From between her breasts down to her left hip they glittered with a pale blue light, like nothing he'd ever seen before. Underneath them he could see the pale shadow of a scar; a story to be told another time. They weren't here to talk after all.

She laughed as he stepped forward and his breeches fell down. Apparently she'd been a bit more adept at the lacework than he first suspected. His smirked, shrugging out of them entirely and stepping to the foot of the bed, removing his shirt. He noticed her eyes widen again as she looked down, a slight hesitancy in her now. He raised one of his eyebrows in question.

“I've never...that is...I don't...” she trailed off. She didn't need to say anything else, he understood perfectly. The entire world crashed into place around him, the last puzzles of who she was fitting perfectly as he realized what she had been doing with her life and why her desperate need had finally arose tonight, at this moment.

He moved forward gently, kneeling on the edge of the bed and looking at her, keeping his gaze locked with hers. His hesitation and desire to help her through her own fears rekindled the fire in her eyes. She smirked at him, almost invitingly and said, “I thought I was your property for the evening...”

It was of course exactly the wrong thing to say, or, depending on your perspective, exactly the right thing to say.

He surged forward onto the bed, their naked bodies pressing against one another. There was no hesitancy in her now, just again the burning need that he'd sensed when she first started this at the door, a desire to throw herself into the fires that she had inside her. Her gaze was a challenge, a promise, and an invitation which he was more than willing to accept.

His experience with women was enough that he'd been in this situation before, he knew how to hold her gently, how to make her feel comfortable with her first time. He could feel her heart racing within her lithe frame as they came together at last. Instead of a gasp of surprise, or perhaps a wince as some of the maidens he'd been with had, the Magistrix didn't fail to surprise him once again.

She bit him. Her delicate little spellcaster's mouth came down and bit him hard on the neck, her magically lacquered nails digging into his back as the moment finally came, driving him to the same level of desire that she herself was feeling, making him forget everything for a time. He could feel her heart hammering in her chest now, and even feel her magic reaching out and playfully touching the magic within him that was part of his Sin'dorei heritage. He tilted her head back, wanting to see if she still had that look on her face, that mocking challenge. Instead her eyes were closed, her face a mask of joy that none had seen ever before. The image was forever his alone.

As he held her in that moment, he realized that he held a woman who's flames of ambition had burned countless hundreds. The icy cold of her magic had frozen thousands to death. And he and he alone had quenched the fire and melted the ice. The moment stretched on for what seemed like forever, became two moments. They became two hours.

Two hours became an entire evening.

For one hundred thirty six years she had been driven by her perfect upbringing. By her station and responsibility to her people. She had been forced to play a role to survive and prosper in a world that was utterly false. For all of that time, she had never truly been allowed to simply be alive until that moment.

It was worth every second of waiting.