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    Cia
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Ancalagon - 119. Chapter 119

“Are you sure you don’t want to be part of the new council?” I asked Garjah. I’d been sitting there quietly, lost in thought, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

He shook his head. “No.” Garjah twisted in his chair; I was sitting on a wide cushioned seat in the corner, pillows piled around me. Bouncer was curled at my feet with his head in my lap. I stroked behind his ears, watching as Garjah went over videos on his comm. “It was never my intention to take over for the Kardoval. I love what I do, and it’s more than enough for me. Besides, if we’re stuck on the new council, how can you do your job of studying the planet or going back to Ardra? We’d never be able to leave the city.”

I let out a sigh of relief. I’d been holding this question in for cycles as the Kardoval hid from the people and the rioting continued. We’d had to hide out in that tiny greenhouse, which was awkward enough during sleeping cycles, but it’d finally burst out of me. The Aqnars should arrive soon, but the Kardoval had to be found first. Garjah wouldn’t allow anything else.

He wouldn’t let vulnerable Galactic ambassadors onto the planet otherwise. I hesitated to warn him about how many would probably be coming with them; he’d been spoiled with Ases coming alone with the mech, but this was a whole different situation, despite what he’d negotiated. They’d bring every single staff member, protector, chef, server, pilot, deckhand, mechanic… basically if the could determine the Aqnars might potentially need the service of a being on their ship or during their stay, they’d send a being to fill that role.

And another one we’d not know as well. Every Galactic Council employee had secret skills; that was what made them so good at staying in power. Not that they abused it; they were their own checks and balances system.

“Do you want that? To be part of the takeover?” Garjah hesitated. He didn’t like the word, but there really wasn’t another way to phrase it. They had to takeover and figure out a new way of doing things. It just sounded more hostile than what he’d ever intended.

“Of course not!” I’d be more than content to roam the jungles with Bouncer. There was so much I wanted to see without the stress of fleeing for our lives. Maybe a few things I’d want to avoid too; I shrugged. “I’m not into politics. Just as Ases. The few classes I had to take I nearly failed, and it almost kept me off any planets or stations with intelligent species.”

“How could they do that?”

“Well, apparently I was not as much of a natural as I’ve proven with you.” I stood up and strode over to Garjah, straddling his lap and curling my arms around him. He grunted, and I smacked his shoulder. “Stop that, I’m not that heavy.”

“You’re not heavy at all,” he said. He pulled me closer. I stroked the back of his head, tracing the ridges that curled over his ears and down to his neck. His eyes closed partially. While I was trying to rest and recover from all the craziness of trying to rescue him, he’d never stopped pushing himself.

“Come lay down with me?” I whispered.

He opened his eyes and his mouth, to protest I’m sure, but I cut him off with a kiss. “Please? I feel better with your arms around me.” Yes, it was sneaky and manipulative, and maybe even more for me than him. No, screw it. It was better for him to come lay down, even if it mean that I had to lie to him to get him to do it. He was so tired I could literally feel it through our bond.

“I have to keep searching,” Garjah protested.

“You have officers doing that. And those flying comm things. You can rest, and the system will alert you if anything is found or if you are needed.” I lifted one eyebrow. “Won’t it?”

He nodded reluctantly.

“Then all you’re really doing is staring at screens. Do you really want to do that when you could be holding me?” I leaned back, and his arms tightened around my lower back. One slid to my ass cheek and squeezed.

“No!” he answered in a rush.

“All right then. Bed.” And as much as my shaft had started to firm as soon as I got close enough to smell him and to feel the rock hard muscles under his skin tempting my touch, I was good. I lay on the bed, stretching out an arm, and he actually cuddled into me for once. Scrubbing my fingers gently over the back of his head, I scraped the edges of his ridges.

Shuddering, Garjah tensed, then let out a big sigh and relaxed all at once. It was like I’d found the lazy button or the disconnect the joints spot or something. I yanked my hand away. His body was heavy, his breath on my shoulder and neck puffing in rhythmic long pulses. He didn’t respond to anything, but he did snuggle close and hum until I started stroking his head again.

Then he repeated the muscle melt. It was truly bizarre.

Though I did like it. It felt comforting, and even though I’d asked Garjah to lay down with me so he could get some rest, I couldn’t keep my eyes open either. Maybe this was what it was like, to be held close by a partner who he loved and who loved him so much that nothing else mattered. The universe could go to the stars, and they’d figure out it together.

Essell yawned and curled around Garjah’s larger body, determined that nothing would ever hurt his bonded again. Not the Kardoval, not the Aqnars Garjah invited, and not the Galactic itself. They had a new life to plan.

Copyright © 2020 Cia; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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