Oh, Lord... he thought, not sure if that was in thanksgiving or of he was pleading for mercy. The trio of cloth rustling, bed frame creaking, and flesh on illusory flesh filled his ears, with the occasional moans or groans -- his own, Filia's? -- joining in. They, and the emotions that were so thick that they could ice a cake, were intoxicating to him, adding to the disorientation...

Think of Zelas-sama, he told himself as the memory of last morning, and the thought of the almost-certain repeat of it to come, floated through the chaos the pleasure had turned his mind into, only to have it resolve itself for much, much too long.

eeep. His eyes, open but unfocused and ignored, went even wider, and his pupils turned into pin pricks.

Don't think of Zelas-sama don't think of Zelas-sama don'tthinkofZelas-sama!!!!

Xelloss forced himself to calm down, and forget the image that had produced and only think of the pleasures of the purely sensual aspects of what was happening. Just enjoy it, he told himself. Don't think about it, don't think about why, just...enjoy it.

Just forget that she's only using you. That seemed to work, and not too long afterwards matters reached a mutual climax. She dismounted, not a word said by her, and was soon asleep, leaving him in her arms to brood on why he didn't like this anymore...

It hadn't mattered the first time that he had not felt any love from her, only lust. But he had not expected her reaction the next morning, not at all. He had thought that she'd remember what she had done, what they had done, not that he'd be hit in a place that was sensitive even for him, and unjustly accused of something he hadn't done.

The feeling of being discarded was really what had hurt. He was used to being merely used; he could never forget that no matter what, ultimately he was Zelas's to use. But Zelas never made him feel like he was simply a thing. She always rewarded him when he had pleased her, always treated him like a good servant.

Filia slept, and dreamed. Her dreams were the same nightly, a prophetic jumble, confusing and disturbing. She kept trying to grip them, but the images only flowed through her fingers like water, leaving her feeling strange. There were persistent images, though, repeating themselves night after night since the dreams had started.

The most persistent of the images was that of a tower in a desert, holding a red jewel that was a match of the one in Xelloss's staff, and an aura of ancient betrayal. Other images and emotions also turned up, though not as frequently and without the same feeling of importance. A woman sitting in a throne, smoking, with long, wavy blond hair and bangles, with Xelloss (a young Xelloss, she knew somehow) kneeling at her feet. A man, a Gold Dragon of the Water clan, and a previous Knight of Ceified, with his throat slit and a look of surprise on his dead features. A different man, not completely anything, with long red hair and golden eyes, sitting in that desert tower, its bored lord and master.

The only thing connecting the images was a voice, golden and black and feminine, telling her something very, very important that she could never remember or hear clearly but left her feeling very much alone and scared.

The dreams, and the voice, had been getting clearer since they had first started, not so long ago, and the feeling of urgency surrounding them was growing...

Xelloss tensed up as he sensed Filia start to wake up, and the arm she had at some point during the night looped around his neck tightened. Sometimes, it paid not to have to breathe, but not having to breathe did not mean he didn't feel strangled. Still, it was an improvement over the last time's blow to his crotch.

That, however, did not mean it was comfortable. He made some pointed some pointed choking noises when he realized that she was in no hurry to wake up. Not only did this seem to only cause the arm around his neck to tighten, her other arm around his waist started to squeeze him uncomfortably.

She muttered something about a broken squeeker, and opened her eyes. She blinked as her brain processed the meaning of the amethyst eyes looking pleadingly into her own, and then let go of him completely with a blush. "Did I...use you again, Xelloss-san?" she asked quietly.

"Yes," Xelloss replied, just as softly as she had asked. "You did." He wasn't quite sure what to make of this morning's treatment, though aside from been squeezed he wasn't going to complain about it.

Filia slipped out of her bed, and silently pulled her robe on. "I'm sorry, Xelloss-san."

She left, leaving Xelloss lying, stunned, in her bed. He had not really expected her to apologise to him, not after yesterday morning.