Zasha's Capture (manxman)

Chapter 17

Gowron continued to softly caress Zasha even after he had fallen asleep. Filled with the scent of his mate, the room became darker as the waning sun slipped lower. The warning he had received from the Priestess filled his mind as he watched the shimmer settle around them. Next to him Zasha shifted in his sleep, turning to lay his hand across his chest and throwing a small thigh over his stomach.

He looked over the small figure, etching the precious moment into his memory. Zasha brought out a side of gentleness that he had never known existed inside him. Known for his fierceness and prowess in battle, he had never been so relaxed with another being.

 As First, he could show no weakness, no vulnerability to the people he led. Looking down at his mate, he knew that he would do anything to protect him, sacrifice anything to keep him safe, and strike down any who sought to harm him. Soon, he would be doing just that.

He had desired to set in as soon as word had reached him of the war for Faer, but as a race of mercenaries, his people had needed a reason to support the attack. He had proposed a daring and different path than what they had been following for as long as the Tsa'tsay had been freed: joining themselves to another nation and ending their days of selling themselves for other's wars.

This time, they would be tied to the race they would be fighting alongside. It had allowed him a way to bind Zasha to himself and turn his people from the path they had walked since ancient history. He had been unable to approach Zasha during all that time, afraid of the repercussions it might have on him if he revealed himself. Forced to offer a bond through marriage and refused by the ruling Queen, he wondered if Zasha had even known.

His suspicions had been confirmed the moment he had revealed himself and Zasha had faced him with complete shock.

The room fell completely dark as the last sun finally finished its cycle for the day. He moved on the bed, stirring Zasha from his sleep as he lifted him to take him through the door that led to a bathing chamber.

Dark blue stone greeted him as he stepped into the opulent room. A huge bath was sunk into the stone floor. It was a deep cream color and also made of solid stone, marbling swirling in the natural stone. One end was continually filling with steaming water that bubbled from the floor while the other end continually emptied, the water disappearing to presumable run somewhere under the floor. Steps led down into the water and various vials of oil and soaps and large fluffy towels lay within reaching distance from the raised lip of the stone tub.

In his arms, Zasha stirred, waking up from his cradled position as Gowron began his careful decent into the steaming water. One end of the tub had a rounded bench submerged into the water. He moved to sit on it, still holding his precious cargo. 

Large violet eyes watched him, half lidded as they sank into the water. Gowron shifted in the water, holding his small lover on his lap as he sank his tentacles into the relaxing warmth. They sat there, relaxing in the soothing heat in silence.

He watched as Zasha began to work on the complex arrangement of his hair, slowly taking it down one braid at a time. He helped, working on the complicated braids with the help of his deft tentacles and fingers. One by one, the braids slowly were unwound, the single golden thread in each one put to the side as it was free. Soon, the water was filled with flowing purple tresses tangling with his tentacles. He watched them winding together, loving the way the long hair shifted and rippled as the shimmering dust rinsed out of it, making patterns in the water.

Gowron regarded his small husband, allowing himself to study Zasha and noting the differences from his memory. The length of Zasha's hair was much longer than he remembered; it was more noticeable now that it was unrestrained. His flesh still had the delicate softness that he found so delicious to sink his fingers and coils into.