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[Mikhaeil]

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The touch of her hand upon his own sent shockwaves of submission surging through his essence. Absolute and pure, the ascendancy of her dominion reined his desperation, his years of yearning for the freedom he had lost dissipating like a night-time fog is burnt away by the rising sun. He fell to his knees and lowered his head, perfectly at peace for the first time in eons.

[Xoriah]

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Everything changed in an instant. One moment the cold was melting away from her in the blaze of warmth from the hearth. She’d closed her eyes. From there, she could not begin to explain what she’d done. Her heart stealing some notion of contentment without her will, she had taken his hand. Gently, and without pretense.

“Xoriah.”

His urgent voice had startled her from her reverie, and when she opened her own eyes, his pale green eyes were wide with – what? Terror? Anger? Hatred? Instantly, she released his hand and tumbled backward in her attempt to release him. She reeled across the floor and tripped onto her bedroll. Mikhaeil, without any hesitation, dropped where he stood and bowed before her, his wings extended high above him in the firelight.

The sudden change in his will as it bent again to her own, sent her senses reeling again. It was intoxicating. “Mikhaeil! Leave me. Upstairs, to your bed.”

His expression was bewildered but he rose and obeyed without a moment’s hesitation.

In the sullen silence left by the angel’s wake, she breathed in, and out. As the euphoria lapped at the edges of her being, she silently begged it to ebb and cease. And it did, little by little, until she was left only with the empty ache of regret for what she had done.
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Come with me where chains will never bind you...all your grief at last, at last behind you. ~Les Miserables

[Xoriah]

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“Xoriah?”

His voice behind her did not startle her. Indeed she’d been conscious of every tiny rustle of his wings, every impatient shift of weight – every gentle sigh that had escaped his lips since she’d ordered him upstairs. She knew he’d come back downstairs far earlier and stood in silence as he debated whether he could speak to her without breaking her command.

She did not turn to look at him, but remained sitting before the fire, watching the flames. “You may return. I’m sorry, Mikhaeil.”

“Sorry?” He sounded genuinely confused as he joined her sitting on the rug before the hearth.

She didn’t respond.

“What does it do?” He asked, watching her intently as she stared into the flames.

“What?” Xoriah asked the question resignedly, though she knew without a doubt what he meant.

He sat looking into the fire, considering his words, struggling to find the right question. Funny, she thought. He has no choice but to be ever-truthful to me, and here I sit considering how to lie.

Xoriah shook her head and sighed. “It creates a euphoria within me the likes of which I have never known, and could never hope to describe.” She turned her head to watch him finally as he took in her words. “I am sorry, Mikhaeil. I saw the horror in your eyes.”

“Not horror.” He turned back from the fire slowly to look at her. For the first time she saw the radiance dancing within the emerald depths of his eyes. Everything had changed.
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Come with me where chains will never bind you...all your grief at last, at last behind you. ~Les Miserables