Page 120 of A Brat's Tale
I’m not as used to this poly thing as others are, but I think … no IknowI am that way. Just like I’m a brat who likes being submissive for Corrik sometimes and someone who could maybe, perhaps see himself subbing for someone who required a deeper kind of submissive. I’ve come to realize, I wasn’t acting when I did what I did for Alrik that one time before I left. I was responding to Alrik’s energy.
I have many aspects to my sexuality. It’s not a ‘this’ or ‘that’phenomenon. The Lady of the Lake said I would have at least three men in my life and I know who they are now, I know how each of their energies affects me and I want them all. I don’t want to choose.
But these kinds of relationships weren’t normalized in Markaytia, and I still have some shame over it. It didn’t help how Corrik was when we first married. I got the sense that I was to be his one and only, that he would murder anyone who suggested sharing. Now, I have a clearer distinction between possessiveness and jealousy. I also understand that while he does mean to keep me for himself, that doesn’t extend to those who are dear to me. Because Corrik loves me, ardently so, and he can’t resist giving me anything that makes me happy—even if it sometimes takes a little while when he’s worried about my safety—it makes him happy to see me happy.
He sighs. “Did it have to be the Aldrien Warlord, Tristan? We have a perfectly handsome and dominant Warlord here in Mortouge if you like.”
“Zelphar? Ugh.Hardno. And okay yes, he’s my type, but he’s a true arsehole, Cor. I don’t know how Brylee stands him.” Plus, the energy I feel with Zelphar is that of an annoying older brother. It makes me glad I was an only child.
Corrik laughs big and pulls me toward him. I encircle him with my strong arms. “I can feel him you know? In your hair. I could feel him since the moment you came near. At first, I didn’t know who the Elf was. As you have now experienced, we can pick up on magic that comes from another Elf, but without knowing who the castor was, we can’t tell who it was. I had my suspicions, but it wasn’t until you confirmed it for me that I knew that this magical signature belonged to him.”
“So, every time you touch my hair, you feel him?”
“Yes,” he says like he’s had a bad joke played on him.
It dawns on me. “This wasn’t just a nice gesture, it was also an ownership symbol like marking.”
His eyes delight with something playful. “It was that but also a few more things. It was a reminder for me, one I’d have to face daily, andaccept if I wanted to accept you. Most importantly, it was a warning—he is in your heart and if I don’t treat you right, he’ll come for you. That broke me the most because he sensed something in you that spoke to your unhappiness. He sent you back with a hefty amount of hesitation.” Tears fall from Corrik’s eyes. “I hated that, and I knew it was true because he made this hair with deep love for you, that’s what makes the spell possible and near unbreakable. He was worried about you, but despite all that, he sent you back to me because he knew you loved me too.”
“That wasn’t the only reason, Cor,” I rush in to say, hating seeing the massive Elf cry like this. “His father was going to kill me.”
“Maybe. But he would not have sent you to me knowing he was sending you to a life of misery. He would have shipped you back to Markaytia. He sent you here for you, Tristan.”
Now I’m crying.
“Oh, my darling. It’s okay. It’s really okay. There’s also one more thing it was. This is a thing Elves do with shared partners. Almost … like a fun prank.”
“He pranked you, with my body? If I ever see him again, he’s a dead Elf.”
Thankfully, that makes Corrik laugh, I can’t take his crying—it’s too heartbreaking. “It’s not so bad as it sounds to someone who might be of Markaytian decent. You like being marked, don’t you?” he breathes into my ear.
“Yes.”
“There you go. For you it’s a mark you can wear with pride—he would not have done this if he didn’t know you’d adore it, for me it’s a ‘so there, he’s mine too’.”
“Barbaric Elven behavior is what I call it. By the Gods, you two.”
“Wait until my brother gets involved. It will seem barbaric then.”
“Why would your brother get involved?”
He bites his lip. “Forget I said that. The point is, I’ve long accepted Bayaden. Don’t feel guilt over what you do with him. He loves you and that’s enough for me.”
Part of me wants to follow up with the Alrik comment, and part ofme doesn’t at all. Not right now anyway. I leave it. “Why haven’t you marked me in some barbaric way?”
“I have. The location spell, remember? That’s a mark. I know where you go, which is why I knew you were at the healing center more often than you let on.”
“I’ve been a lot less since I’ve become Elf.”
“Do you see me complaining? Plus you heal a lot faster. I’m less concerned.” He nuzzles into my hair.
“It doesn’t bother you to feel him when you do that?”
“No. He made it with his love for you, which could only be possible with your love for him. It still contains your love. It’s still you.”
“Which must mean you can’t kill him either.”
“Correct. Not when you love him so. I’ve always said you are wise.”
