A Canvas Sanctuary
Saikaku is nursed back to health in a beautiful manor. Things are not as they seem.
Commission for Zyfire
A Canvas Sanctuary
Commission for Zyfire
Explicit Content 18+
CW : Death
The air shrieked incessantly against Saikaku's face, scattering him with needle-sharp molecules of snow and ice. Even as a demi-god suffused with magical fire, there was only so much he could handle. The cold was penetrating right through him. The galvanic magic warming his insides was doing less and less to stop the oppressive stinging numbness at the tips of his fingers and toes inside the thick gloves he wore; he was thankful he had the forethought to bundle up regardless, as uncomfortably warm as they had been at the time.
However, it did not seem to be doing much good anymore.
The white furred lion had never felt cold like this in his life. It was an alien sensation to a fire elemental who was almost always like a warm stove to the touch. He was not expecting the sting and chill that made his muscles shake and his bones ache. It was overwhelming. For once, he felt incredibly mortal, incredibly fragile.
This blizzard had seemingly come from nowhere. When he ventured out, he was assured that the clear weather would hold - still dangerous, but manageable, especially for him. He hadn't even felt the cold at all that point.
The storm snuck up on him and pounced abruptly, attacking him like a maelstrom of tiny insects, seeking out any potential gap in his clothes and biting at his flesh with frightening hunger.
The further he walked, the more the cold and the pain redoubled. If his tail hadn't been wrapped inside his body like a belt, he imagined it would have fallen off due to frostbite.
Would the same happen to his fingers?
At a certain point, Saikaku wondered that turning back would be the best. He glanced behind, his cold stiff neck muscles straining painfully. Through the intense maelstrom of snow and clouds, he could not see anything behind him. No tracks, no distant lights of civilization. He was in a desert of endless snow. And who knew how much further he would have to travel before he came across civilization?
He had ventured too far out. A ghastly thought began to pulse through his mind, one that he had not felt in a long time, nor this intensely.
I'm going to die out here.
Admitting that did not make him feel better. Far from it. Despair settled over him, so much so that when he saw the dark figures ahead of him he assumed they were just tricks of a delirious, cooling brain. They were approaching him. It gave him a slight moment of warm hope before he reminded himself that he could not get complacent. He could not stop. He had to keep moving until he found some warmth, or until he could move no more. Stopping would mean his end. He willed his legs not to fail him as they trudged through the tightly-packed snow pooling around his ankles.
The shapes grew larger as he approached them, gaining a little more definition. Golden glows emanated from them, close to their torsos. The heat of a lamp or some other light. A spirit... no, a hallucination. He shook his head, clenching his teeth and lips tightly together as he felt his mouth fuse shut from the cold.
The closer he got to the figures, the more he started to doubt his cynical belief that they were just tricks of the mind and the light. Maybe they were there to take him home. Back to his family. Back to his place up in the heavens...
As he wondered that, his leg gave way from under him and he fell straight forward into a stinging pile of snow.
He only felt the chill against his face for a moment, before the painful feeling vanished. A bloom of warmth filled him, a euphoria wrapping around him like a blanket.
He felt sleepy. The last bits of energy drained out of him, replaced with a strange, tranquil resignation. On a small rational level, he knew this was just his mind bracing him and guiding him gently towards his inevitable death. But he didn't fear or worry about it any longer. It didn't matter that he'd tried so hard, or that he had failed. The concern that he'd never be discovered was going away. The cold and the pain didn't bother him any more. It was time to sleep.
He felt his body shift. He felt as though he was being hoisted upwards, floating and gliding through the air. He assumed it was another last gasp of comfort from his dying mind.
The blanket of sleep coiled around him, and the last of his thoughts were swallowed by the blizzard.
-
The painful sensation of Saikaku's frostbitten flesh woke him from his slumber. The pain drew out long hisses through clenched teeth. He was swaddled tightly in a mountain of warm blankets, and could hear the gentle crackling of a lit fireplace. His hands and feet were sticking out from the mountain, tied and secured to buckets of warm water.
His whole body hurt. Was it from his frozen neurons and nerves screaming back to life? The pain was reassuring, even though it was excruciating. Feeling pain meant he wasn't dead. Or dreaming. This felt real.
He opened his eyes slowly, blearily adjusting to the sepia lamplight of the drawing room before he slowly made his way out of the room and into the hallways. The blizzard howled outside, but it only served as a reminder that he was safe and sheltered now. The floorboards were lacquered and shiny, and paintings hung on the walls. The paintings depicted spring-time landscapes, with bright blue skies and rolling golden hills. All of them were variations on that theme. He didn't recognize the landscapes, but he took time to appreciate each one, and see if they twigged any memories
Saikaku was no arts aficionado, but he found the sight of these sunny plains comforting; it was something to remind him of warmer climes. He heard a gasp close by, and turned his head slowly even as he felt a crick in his neck. A spindly young mouse with tawny fur and golden curls was staring at him. The maid was breathing rather rapidly, her eyes wide and dilated. She shuffled on the spot, seemingly paralyzed with indecision.
"Oh! Sir! You're alive - I mean awake!" she stammered and rasped, a nervous yet terrified smile splitting her face in two. "Pl-please, don't move just yet, you should rest. Here, let me get Madame..."
She raced towards a large oaken door and almost crashed right through it. Saikaku would have called out to wait, but the scratchy ache in his throat told him that was a bad idea. His vocal chords probably needed a little more time to defrost. It was best to sit back and let her go, see what the Madame of the house has to say. After all, he most likely owed her his life. He closed his eyes again and waited. He knew he wasn't going to nod off any time soon.
He seemed to be swaddled in blankets that were wrapped around soft rubber containing some heated liquid. Probably hot water. It was soothing, and did help distract him from the pain in his muscles. He hoped he would be able to walk. He could wiggle his fingers and toes - none of them had been amputated. That was a small relief.
After a time, the swaddled lion heard distant voices murmuring and growing in volume as they approached. He opened his eyes again and carefully turned his head, this time without the creaking sting from before. The mouse maid opened the door and held it as she stepped inside, turning her eyes toward the floor with deference. A dark-suited raven walked in after her, moving with a martial poise that suggested a violent past.
Just behind them was a white-furred reindeer. Her antlers were only starting to grow in for the season, manifesting as two short white-velvet horns that flanked the tight bun of ebony hair like soldiers defending a castle. Her golden eyes sparkled even from across the room. She was dressed in a long gown, with a royal purple shawl draped around her body to keep her shielded from the elements. Her snout creased in a gentle smile, and Saikaku felt a strange flutter in his heart.
Being related to a god of love and passion meant it was extremely easy to fall in love at first sight. It happened rather often. Saikaku was pretty used to it, and could keep those feelings at bay. In fact, that growing infatuation was helping warm him up a little. He could manage a smile, even though the only part of him that was visible at that point was his eyes.
"Thank you, Rue," the woman said with a soft, smooth voice like a fine sweet liqueur. "that will be all. You are dismissed for the evening. Feel free to stay in the fifth guest room; I would hate to see you venture out into the cold."
"Oh!" the mouse nodded quickly. "Yes'm, th-thank you Madame." she curtsied and scurried out of the open door. It slammed shut behind her, a little louder than she might have wanted. Saikaku could see the reindeer woman bristle and shudder, but the moment of annoyance passed by very quickly. She glided over to a chair across from Saikaku's place and sat down. She folded her hands in her lap, her hoof-fingers clacking together softly like little dice. The raven did not move, keeping his hands behind his back.
"I'm relieved to see you've survived," her words clipped with perfect elocution. "A blizzard like this... I doubt even a god could survive it, let alone a demi-god."
Saikaku wanted to croak out a response again. He wanted to ask how she knew who he was.
"I heard you were coming, and was planning to merely flag you down as you passed. Naturally, when the storm picked up I had to send my men out to rescue you. The world would be lesser for the loss of a fine young man like you."
"Nn." Saikaku could manage a little grunt of grateful recognition. The flattery raised his hackles just a little, put him on guard. He'd been seduced, ensorcelled and taken advantage of enough times to know when someone wanted something out of him. So far, this reindeer seemed genuine. But you could never be too careful.
"I am Lady Emmalise," the reindeer said. "My estate overlooks most of this province. I'm sure you've seen it in clearer climes."
It was true; Saikaku had. The cream-white mansion had been a distant yet prominent landmark for the last few days of his journey. He didn't think he was going to cross paths with it, though... in fact, before the blizzard started, he was not on track to get anywhere near it.
Saikaku tried to push the paranoia out of his mind. Even if this was a trap, it was better than freezing to death. Escaping would not be impossible. The storm would abate, and he could leave.
Or maybe Lady Emmalise's hospitality would keep him a bit longer. That remained to be seen.
"You do not need to talk until you're ready," the Lady said. She turned her gaze towards the fire. "I can wait. I would not want this to be a one-sided chat, after all. The storm is likely to last for a few days. There's little point in exhausting all our conversation too soon. "
Saikaku didn't disagree. He looked at the fireplace, the tongues of flame tickling the stone and metal frame in a chaotic but beautiful dance. The soft crackle and the warming scent made it easier to relax and sink into the soft chair. The room was so quiet, he could hear the soft rise and fall of the Lady's breath. It was soothing. His breathing gradually took up the same rhythm as hers.
Saikaku heard a soft rattle and chime as a teacup and saucer was placed next to him. He looked down, watching the gurgling stream of amber tea pour into the cup. The raven butler did the same for his Lady, pouring it from a cast-iron pot.
He extracted his hand from the mess of blankets, and grasped the cup. As he tentatively raised it to his lips, the demi-god watched his hostess. She was already taking a sip herself by the looks of it. He did the same. The tea was warming, gentle, with very little bitterness.
"I hope it is to your liking," the Lady offered. "I regret that we don't have any milk or cream, but if you would like honey I can have that brought to you."
There was a slight touch of hopefulness to her tone this time. Her mask was slipping a little. Saikaku surmised the attraction was mutual.
"No, thank you," he croaked, punctuated with a slight cough. Speaking hurt. The Lady almost started up from her seat, but then seemed to think better of it.
"I understand," she said.
The silence returned, as the pair gradually worked their way through the little pot of tea.
He could not stop looking at her, even though he felt very conscious of staring too long or too hard. She was incredibly beautiful. Her eyes had a strange depth to them; now that he was looking at them properly, they looked less like gold and more like candle-light. They were ringed with a slight hint of dark eye shadow. The dark flesh of her snout and lips had a soft, moisturised glow to it. Whenever she had a drink, the way her lips pursed made him ache to kiss her.
This was definitely one of the stronger infatuations he'd had in some time. Perhaps the near death experience was enhancing it. But he would not let himself get carried away. For his sake, and for hers.
Eventually, she set down her cup and stood.
"I will leave you to rest for a little longer," she said. "It is rather late. I will have some breakfast prepared for you in the morning."
"Thank you," Saikaku grunted. He didn't feel the tickle of a cough coming on this time, and chanced a few more words. "Thank you very m-"
And there it was again. He would have laughed if it wouldn't have made it worse. However, Lady Emmalise smiled, a knowing smile.
"You really are as headstrong and brash as they say you are. Please, keep resting. If you'd like some honey or more tea, Preen will attend to you."
She gestured to the impassive raven, who placed a small bell on the table next to the lion. Saikaku thanked Preen with his eyes. They did not respond.
The lady stood, pulled her shawl a little tighter around herself, and glided out of the room with the smooth gait of a ballerina, drawing Saikaku's gaze as she went.
The sweet spice of her perfume lingered in the room for a time. The cosy scent mingled with the warm tea in his belly, and tugged him into a sleep that was far more comfortable than the near-death experience, by the simple fact that he knew all the sensations he was experiencing were real.
The blanket of sleep coiled around him, and the last of his thoughts melted away.
-
When he opened his eyes again, the wind and the snow were still carrying out their oppressive siege. Saikaku shifted in his mountain of blankets, feeling a familiar discomfort. He was a bit too toasty. He unwrapped the blankets and sheets from around himself. With his hands resting on the arms of the chair, he hoisted himself up onto his feet. They shook a little, and it took him a moment to steady himself, but once he had done so and lifted his paws from their supports, His legs held his weight. He certainly was not about to go for a run, not with the way his body still ached, but he was able to support himself, at least a little.
He approached the window, and peered out. The blizzard made it very difficult to tell what time of day it was outside, but he swore he could see a little bit of diluted daylight if he squinted hard enough. But then, that could just be his mind playing tricks on him.
He could have been asleep for a few hours, or a few days for all he knew.
As he stared, he felt a little bit of melancholy tug and scratch at his throat. His cheeks felt warm and his eyes felt puffy. He wasn't about to start crying, but the desire was there all of a sudden.
Not having his usual connection with the sun was not helping his mental state too. Just as he felt passion so intensely, he felt the absence of it profoundly. Depression hit him hard, especially in the winter months like this.
He tested the polished brass handle on the dark oak doorway, and it unlocked with no complaint. He stepped out into a long hallway, pale green with golden moulding, and flanked with more watercolour and oil landscapes. The lion took his time staring at each one, though he never stopped at one. He could smell something ahead, the scent of something being baked, or something being fried. Or perhaps both.
He heard a shrill shriek from behind him, and wheeled around.
The maid screamed again, even louder this time. She held a silver tray in her hands, on which was Saikaku's breakfast; an egg, some bread, jam, and thinly sliced cuts of meat. The crockery scraped and clacked against it as she stumbled and shook. Her face was bright read, and her jaw was wide open.
Her gaze was specifically fixated on Saikaku's pelvis. He hadn't even realised he was naked.
"Oh! OH!" he covered himself with one hand as he limped towards the mouse girl with one outstretched hand.
"I'm s-s-s-s-so suh...sorry," Rue half apologised, half slurred. Her eyes were battering at her fluttering eyelids as she fought to stay upright, and more importantly, conscious.
"No, no, please, allow me!" Saikaku had enough strength to grasp the tray - and her hands, for that matter, steadying her in place.
The mouse looked right into his eyes, afraid to look anywhere else. The tray between them was shielding her eyes from his member, but her shaky breathing had not slowed.
"I, I should, erm, tell the Madame that you're up and awake!" she whimpered, her paws gripping the tray tighter. "W-would the Sir like to... take his meal in the drawing room, or in his own room?"
"Oh, the room I was just in. That'll be fine." Saikaku said. "Is that the drawing room?"
"Yes, yes," she said, her face splitting into a wide, terrified smile again. "Let me put this in for you, and then, erm... find you some clothes."
"Oh... yes, what happened to my own clothes?"
"I'm being, I mean, they're being cleaned, by me. Yes, yes! All of your belongings are in your chambers upstairs."
"Good..." Saikaku nodded, huffing a little sigh of relief. He hadn't even thought of the rest of his belongings. The Lady had him covered. It was very kind of her.
Even with all these kindnesses, though, something still felt off. At least, he felt it did. His natural sense for danger was still needling in the back of his mind. It was a necessary nuisance, but he couldn't help but feel like it was unnecessary right now.
He settled in the drawing room once again with his tray, draping a blanket over his thighs to cover himself for the next time the maid walked in. He busied himself with his meal in the mean-time. He decided to start with the large soft-boiled egg resting on top of a small thin pedestal. The top of the shell had been taken off to display a golden syrupy yolk. At first, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to eat it. He almost used a spoon to scoop it out, but he then understood what the thin strips of bread were for. It was delicious, warm and flavourful, by far the nicest egg he'd ever eaten. He moved on to the spiced, soft cut of meat. He had to stop himself from scraping too hard with his utensils. The first bite of egg had made him realise just how ravenous he was, and he was already finished with his plate by the time Rue returned with some clothing.
"I, erm, hope this will be to your liking," she said, placing the blue velvet pyjamas on a nearby table before taking the tray off him. "I'll see to this..."
"Thank you very much, Rue." Saikaku said. When she heard her name, she scurried even faster out of the room with a nervous, excited giggle. Poor thing was smitten. And he was smitten with the Lady. On an objective level, Saikaku knew he'd be able to handle this little crush. He wasn't about to do something he'd regret.
The pyjamas were well fitted to his frame, with a long open slit cut in the front to display his chest. It might have been more suited for warmer seasons, but Saikaku did not feel underdressed; the mansion seemed to be very well insulated from the freezing violence outside.
Fully dressed, Saikaku stepped back out into the hall and began to wander. A quiet hour or more went by as he wandered from room to room. Aside from distant shuffles and the low hiss of the storm outside, it was very quiet. Not even the shining floorboards creaked underneath his feet.
The one thing that really stood out was all the paintings. There was barely any empty space on the walls, with a large painting hung in the spaces between each oil lamp. More landscapes, too. All of them were idyllic and devoid of any signs of life. One wing of the mansion had far brighter, more golden portraits, depicting the height of summer with its blistering glow. Another wing was orange and brown, depicting bare trees and piles of autumn leaves. Winter was probably out there somewhere too. But as he wandered from empty drawing-room to empty dining-room to empty lounge, he didn't find any sign of them. Not a hint of white snow anywhere. Perhaps it was simply because there was enough of that to be seen outside.
He found himself taking longer with each one, taking time to examine the details, the depths and the curvature of the pictures. First, wondering if he'd seen them somewhere before. Then simply letting it wash over him. The longer he looked, the deeper the pictures seemed to become, the more they pulled him in. It was a beautiful sight. Eventually, he would stop at each one, and stare at it for a time. He marvelled at how some oil on some cloth could transport him. The summer paintings radiated warmth and comfort, and almost made Saikaku crave a cold drink. The autumn paintings wrapped around him like a warm hug. The spring paintings brought a smile to his face. He could even swear he could see the hints of wind blowing across the frame, making the grass flutter and the tree branches bow. If he was less respectful, he might have reached up to touch them.
The lion's wandering way led him to the main hall, and he caught a glimpse of Rue skittering up the stairs. He could hear her laboured breathing from a fair distance away. He didn't intend on following her, but he did want to find his proper living quarters. He could use a little bit more sleep, after all, and he was a little eager to see what sort of bed might await him.
In his condition, it took him some time to work his way up the stairs. What normally would have been a few quick bounds ended up taking him the better part of a minute, as he made his way up gingerly, one step at a time, one leg at a time. His pain had eased into an ache, which was a relief in its own right, but the wobbly stiffness was still slowing him down. When he reached the top of the stair, he ended up gasping out loud as though he'd ran a marathon.
As he breathed a little heavily, he glanced down the junctions to his left and right. There was one open door to his left, the light pouring in illuminating the dim path. He took his time walking down to it, knocking on the edge of the door frame when he reached it.
"Is anyone there?" he asked, politely, before peering around the frame politely.
The bedroom was empty, with a canopy bed nestled right in the middle. It was draped with dark sheer fabric that blocked out the light, and the bed itself looked gloriously soft and substantial. A desk sat in a corner just in front of a snow-covered window. He could see some of his belongings had already been arranged there; a paper and quill, some of his protective charms, and his coin purse.
He entered the room, with the intent of making a full inventory and checking on his supplies, but his legs pulled him towards the bed instead. He felt exhaustion drape over him once again. Perhaps the food was drugged - no, it wouldn't have an effect on him if it did. He probably just needed to recover. He slowly shuffled across the room, yawning with anticipation as he pulled back the curtain and crawled inside.
It was pitch dark inside. The fabric must have had some sort of magical property. Not that he was complaining; he could see well enough in the darkness with his natural vision.
For instance, he could see the mural painted on the board above him. A starry sky. Had this whole house been worked over by a mystery painter? As he laid on his back, spread eagled, Saikaku let his gaze relax as he took the dark swirls of blue and black in. He felt an impulse to count the white-gold starry spots on the canopy, and he indulged that impulse.
Like the other paintings, this one seemed to have movement to it. The longer he stared, the brighter the stars twinkled, and the more they danced before him.
Saikaku smiled gently. His worries had faded, and his guard had long been let down. He stared up at the sky, and sighed, letting the contentment wash over him. This was his bed to use, after all. And there would be plenty of time to properly speak with the Lady of the house. She had offered him the chance to make himself at home so why... wouldn't he... take it?
As the stars danced and pushed his thoughts away, he felt something warm slip in next to him. A furred body. Soft hands. Warm, hyperventilating breath. He felt the soft rodent hands slide under his pyjamas and against his abdominals.
"So... warm..." the maid murmured. Saikaku didn't mind that he was being touched, or that her thighs were wrapping around his leg as she clung to him with a desperate need.
He was still looking straight up at the stars, his eyelids eclipsing his vision slowly. He did not stop the slender hand from touching his shaft and slowly stroking it. Her breath wafted over his face; it smelled like she had been eating dried fruit. Her lips pressed to his, tenderly and nervously. She did not try to kiss him, at least not at first.
But as she realised he was not going to stop her, the mouse grew bolder and bolder. Her fingers kneaded and stroked the base of his member, tugging it and lifting it upwards. She climbed on top of him, pulling back, still afraid to kiss him.
The stars framed her curls, her blushing face, and she was just as hypnotically beautiful as the canopy. Her eyes were wide, and her lips were parted, her chest rising and falling frantically like the fluttering of a little bird's wings. She kept glancing away, over her shoulder. Saikaku couldn't imagine what was more important than the starry sky above her.
She shuffled and rummaged between her legs, grasping his shaft and guiding the tip between her legs. She slid her hips from side to side against the tip. It was firm, tight - she was too nervous to let him in, as much as she seemed to want to. One hand gripped him, the other hand slid from his chest up to his cheek to caress him.
"Look at me," she whispered. "Pl-please look at me, Sir..."
He couldn't. The stars were so nice. But Rue didn't seem to mind. The maid leaned in and kissed the guest, this time with far more forceful hunger. She was able to relax at last. As her tongue slid into his mouth, his shaft slid into her sex. She whined and moaned into him, pressing her weight against his body. He couldn't see the stars anymore. However, her freckled face and her closed eyes made for a very pretty sight as well.
His eyes were very tired, too.
Her weight pressed down on him like a thick blanket, and his exhaustion only heightened. Her body was cool and soft, stealing his warmth and squeezing him tightly.
"So... warm..." she moaned into his mouth between craven kisses."You're so, so warm..."
The blanket of sleep coiled around him, and the last of his thoughts vanished into the starry sky.
-
When Saikaku awoke, he was tucked in tightly under the covers; he didn't even realise there were covers. He shifted a little to loosen his arms, and opened his eyes to look at the starry canopy again.
It was gone. It was completely black, in fact. That, plus the groggy weight of exhaustion, made him wonder if he'd hallucinated the vision. And the...
He looked to his side. There was no one next to him, though he still picked up a scent. Perfume, or musk, or something similar.
Saikaku shifted a little, noticing a slight cool dampness between his legs - around his member, specifically, and nowhere else. He sat up, tugging the covers off himself. His pyjama bottoms had a very slight tent to them. Not only that, the lingering pain from the frostbite was almost totally gone. As he tugged his legs out and swung them off the bed, he felt almost good as new. He didn't know how long he slept, but it was still rather bright outside. Perhaps it had been a while.
He slipped from bed and began to wander once again, this time around the less spacious upper floors. He wondered if he would run into any more of the Lady's servants; he had only seen three souls so far, and of those, only Rue had been in his presence more than once.
Surely a place this large would have more than one maid and one cook. Although, perhaps most of them had been sent away before the worst of winter had arrived. As he pondered and wandered, he picked up a chemical scent. The scent of oil and acetone stung at his nose. He'd been in the study of a fine artist or two in the past, so he recognized the scent. He wondered if Lady Emmalise had an artist in residence, perhaps. One more soul in the house.
The workshop was brightly lit by a huge window at one end. It was a little bit chillier than the rest of the house as a result, the glass only doing so much to insulate it from the raging elements. The white furred reindeer was standing in front of a canvas, dressed in a thick jumper, an apron, and a long skirt. It was a far cry from the almost ethereally regal garb she wore before. All around her were tightly stretched boards of canvas, some loosely sketched, others a half-finished smear of colour.
"Good," she said, not taking her eyes off the canvas. "I was meaning to ask you to come in. I've been working off memory until now, and could use a proper reference."
"A reference?" Saikaku asked. "Are you... painting me?"
"Yes."
"Ooh." Saikaku felt a little thrill. He'd never been painted before, even by the grateful artists he'd aided in the past. He simply had not had the time to sit and pose for hours; his calling never could wait for long. "That'd be great!"
"We are overdue for a chat, aren't we?" Lady Emmalise said, finally looking towards him with those sparkling gemstone eyes. The burning ache of romantic affection pulsed in his chest once more. But he could keep it at bay.
"Preen," the Lady said, "you may relax."
Saikaku looked to his left, and saw the tall, imposing raven was sitting in repose on a long fainting couch, one leg crossed over the other. They stood and brushed themself off, stepping aside with a demurring bow.
"Should I take up the same pose as him?" Saikaku asked.
"No, do not worry too much," Lady Emmalise replied. "I've only roughly sketched you out. Would you mind undressing?"
"Undressing?!" Saikaku asked, feeling a heated blush come to his face.
"You won't catch a chill, not in here. Not with your heritage, either."
"...maybe not right this second," the lion replied.
"Of course, you have time."
Preen took up position in the corner of the room, as Saikaku sank onto the fainting couch and reclined against the backrest. There was silence for a time. Saikaku decided it would be best to get the ball rolling.
"Are all the paintings in the house yours?"
"Yes," Emmalise said. "Some of them are quite old and sloppy, I apologise."
"I didn't notice," Saikaku said.
"You're very kind."
"Well, everyone's their own worst critic, from my experience." He leaned to the side to get a look at her - he only caught a glimpse of her antler and the side of her head as she peered at him from behind the thick canvas.
"There is not much else to do out here, particularly when it snows heavily for a long period like this. Sometimes we may find ourselves snowed in for months on end."
"Oh..." Saikaku knew he could not stay for months. That was more of a delay than his pilgrimage could afford.
"When we are in the depths of winter, I paint warm things, comfortable things. I find it transports me. And it is quite meditative. I can spend the better part of a week on one painting."
"That... sounds like most painters I've met."
"Indeed. May I ask about your journey? I would love to hear about your travels."
Saikaku was conscious about rambling, but he had a captive audience. Or rather, he was the captive storyteller, in a sense. He told her about the beasts he slew, the cities and sights he'd seen in his travails. He avoided the more embarrassing stories of times when he had been humiliated or ensorcelled. Or of that strange, intense, confusing love affair with a serpent.
"You must have dealt with all sorts," Emmalise said as she swirled orange and white together with a little short blade. "There are plenty who would jump at the chance to take the head of a demi-god. Or take a part of him."
"Oh, they've tried." Saikaku laughed. "None have succeeded."
"I've heard that bodily fluids of demi-gods fetch a pretty penny in some circles."
"So have I. People have made offers in the past," Saikaku said.
"Have you ever accepted?"
"No, I'm not that desperate."
"Interesting." she nodded. "Because I am in correspondence with a few other minor lords and barons, and one claimed he had received a potion made from your... essence, shall we say."
Saikaku choked. "What...?!"
"Judging from your reaction," she said with a hint of amusement, "Either he was sold a fake, or it was taken from you unawares. And I know him to be a discerning sort."
"...it's possible." Saikaku shook his head and shrugged. "Maybe someone I slept with - apologies for being blunt - or when I was charmed."
"Mm." Emmalise nodded. "It's not an uncommon thing. What adventurer has not found themself under a spell or charm of some sort."
"True enough," Saikaku said.
It was silent for a time again, save for the scrape of a blade along the edges of the canvas.
"I've been working on this painting for a while, actually." she continued. "I have been working my way from the edges in, focusing on the couch, the wall, and the painting behind it."
Saikaku glanced behind him, but couldn't quite see it from the angle he was sitting at.
"Please don't move," she said, with a little sharpness to her voice.
"Sorry." the lion's eyes moved forward.
"I was waiting for a subject to come along to complete it. And you are just the subject I've been looking for."
"Oh. That's a happy accident." Saikaku smiled. Emmalise paused her painting for a moment to look back. She returned the smile, a little broader and warmer than she had allowed in the past.
"A happy accident indeed. Would you undress for me, please?"
"Oh, uh..." he felt self conscious again. "I'm... just give me a moment."
He stood up and unbuttoned his pyjama top. His curiosity got the better of him, and he turned around to look at the painting behind him.
The canvas was pale; if not for the glossy glisten of the oil paint, he would have thought it was unpainted. Just from off the edge of the frame were some pieces of old, blackened frozen logs..
In the middle of the painting, taking up the majority of the space, was a nude body. half-buried in the thick drifts of snow, frozen and lifeless, staring up towards the viewer (towards him) with icy, un-seeing eyes.
Her curly hair was stuck to her face, and her rodent nose was a pale blue. Her staring eyes and parted lips gave her a despairing impression.
Saikaku shivered. Rue's face looked life-like. It didn't look like an approximation of dried paint. It looked like frozen flesh.
He tried to keep his composure.
"That's a very impressive picture," he said. "Do your servants pose for paintings for you often?"
"Sometimes." Emmalise was watching him, that cold dispassionate mask having returned to her face. "She have only had her pose for that one, and I don't see her doing so again any time soon."
"Mmhm." Saikaku nodded. A weird suspicion lodged in the back of his throat, and a ghastly fear with it. He pushed them away from his mind. He had no reason to be nervous. He stopped looking at the painting and slid off his pyjama bottoms.
She stared at him for a time, appraising him as he sat back down. He felt her eyes roving along him. He was not used to being looked at quite like this. It wasn't the same look that was given to him when he was having a fling. It was probing. Like she was looking past his fur to penetrate into his flesh and bone.
"How did you find me?" Saikaku asked.
"The day before the storm, when you arrived, one of my messengers told me of your arrival. I was going to send a retinue to invite you directly, but then the storm came. They scrambled to find you."
"Yes, thank you so much," Saikaku said. "I'd love to thank them directly, if they're here."
"Perhaps later," she replied. "All in due time."
More silence. Some time passed. Saikaku let his gaze rove around the room. He could see, now, that some of those sketches and unfinished paintings seemed to depict other anthros. It was hard to tell who, or where they were, but they were contorted or reclined in strange positions, as though they had been caught in the middle of a dance or a fit.
"I didn't see any portraits of people in any of the paintings downstairs," Saikaku mused. "Not even distant ones in the backgrounds. Have you only started doing this recently?"
"No," she replied. "I started with portraits actually."
"Okay," he said, with a nod.
"Excuse me for a moment." she stood up from her stool and stretched. "I will be back in a moment."
She glided out of the room, leaving Saikaku alone. Aside from the statue-like raven. He looked at the easel from his side, and stood slowly. He was curious. What would the work in progress look like? He looked to the butler for permission, a little sheepish. They did not respond, or even move as he approached and rounded it to take a look.
The painting was almost perfectly life-like - the moulding along the walls, the weave of the fabric on the couch, the grain of the floorboards were all rendered with such incredible attention to detail and accuracy. He almost felt as though he could step into the middle of it - it was unfinished after all, a rough smear of white paint and pencil sketches that had yet to take proper shape.
His gaze shifted up a little to the painting within the painting.
There was nobody in it. He looked up and past it. The painting on the wall had not changed, the frozen mouse girl still was exactly where she had been.
When he looked down again, he saw her hands and face pressed up against the picture, her eyes wide and her face contorted into a silent, desperate shriek.
Saikaku choked on his tongue, and his heart contracted to the size of a walnut. He stumbled, knocking over the table next to the easel. The stinking solvents and the oily paints spilled out onto the floor, the brushes and tools clattering along with them.
Saikaku did not apologise. There was no time to. The raven was upon him, a black-taloned foot lunging for his throat. He weaved out of the way. Adrenaline and his survival instincts obliterated what remained of his pain and exhaustion. He was back to his full strength.
He kept on his feet, bouncing on them like a prize-fighter, as his knuckles were wreathed in white flame. Preen did not seem perturbed, and continued his assault. His wingspan remained behind his back, as he lashed out with kick after razor-sharp kick. Each time Saikaku deflected one with his arm or his fist, he could hear the sizzle of the bird's flesh burning. Aside from a very soft hissed in-breath, Preen did not show any hint of pain. He was relentless, and did not seem to be bothered by the scalds on his scaly legs.
"Why are you fighting?"
Lady Emmalise was calling from the door frame. He didn't respond - paying attention to what she was saying was almost too much distraction. Was she talking to him, or to both of them?
"The blizzard will not let up any time soon," she continued. "You will not be able to escape the house. Or me." The meaning became clear, and with it, the fearful realisation that his fears were not unfounded.
Saikaku knew he could not hold back any longer. The butler was a trained killer, and was not holding back. He had to put an end to this fight, fast. Then he could interrogate this Lady as to her true intentions.
He left himself wide open, allowing the butler to lunge forward. His eyes blazed like sunlight suddenly poking through a cloud, a dazzling flash that sent Preen stumbling. Saikaku slipped out of the way and let him crash into the easel in the middle of the room. It toppled to the floor, the frame splintering into deadly sharp chunks. . As the crow rolled over it, the still-drying paint smeared over the back of his uniform. He righted himself. Saikaku didn't wait for him to charge again - from his palm, a streak of fire issued forth and set the oil ablaze. The raven managed to shrug out of his clothing and made another move to the right.
Saikaku could tell Preen was feinting, so he dodged in the same direction. He only had half a half-second to realise he'd been outplayed before a muscular, feathered forearm struck him across the temple. His face impacted the wooden floor with a blow that was almost as violent.
The shackles of unconsciousness wrapped tightly around him, and his train of thought was snapped like a twig.
-
Saikaku's head throbbed with painful heat, and a copper tang lingered on his tongue. His tongue roved along the inside of his mouth, checking for any loose teeth. They were all accounted for.
He could feel light attempting to push past his eyelids. He managed to open one just enough to let his vision acclimate. He was still in the study, shackled to a chair with... something. He couldn't quite ascertain what it was. It did not make any noise, like chains might have, but it didn't have any give to it the way ropes might have.
As he managed to force his other eye open, he was able to acclimate properly. He was seated in front of the tall window, which was flung wide open to let the elements in. The snowstorm was a violently pale white, one that burned his eyes to look at. He could feel the wind beckoning to his unclothed body through the open window, and the creeping painful chill returned to his muscles and bones.
He didn't speak, merely grunted as he tried to rouse himself and lift his head.
"He wakes," said a soft, raspy wheeze.
"Thank you, Preen." Lady Emmalise said. "Close the windows. My guest is getting cold."
The mass of black fur eclipsed the window, and the howling blizzard outside was quelled. Saikaku involuntarily shuddered and groaned with relief, his natural heat bringing him back to a state of relative comfort. The raven turned, looming over Saikaku with dark marble eyes. They loomed closer, grasping the lion's chair and wheeling him around.
Lady Emmaline was sitting on her stool, like before. She had changed into a dark, sheer slip, no longer wearing her painting clothes. Her hands were folded neatly on her lap, her hooved fingers clicking and drumming a soft metronomic rhythm.
"I would rather have allowed you more time to acclimate," the reindeer said. "Before I revealed this to you. It was my mistake; I should not have left that painting hanging, nor should I have allowed Rue out of my sight for too long. I must admit I was very absorbed in my craft."
"What have you done with her?" Saikaku said.
"I returned her to the state I found her in," Lady Emmalise said, her voice cool and dispassionate. "The state I found all of my servants in. They were overcome by the elements, much like you."
Saikaku choked on those words. Overcome? Like him? Did that mean he had died? Was he dead? He didn't feel dead, certainly, he had felt his heart beating and could see the little plumes of breath emanating from his body. But then... who was to say what being dead felt like? He had no idea.
All of these confused expressions were very easy for the Lady to read.
"Unlike you, they did not survive."
"Unlike me?"
"Yes. You were not very close to death when my servants found you. But any mortal would surely have been dead by that time."
"So... wait." Saikaku shook his head. "If Rue is dead... I mean, I felt her-"
"You did. And that was the problem." Lady Emmalise sighed. "Young girls like her are a little difficult to rein in. Some time back in her place will teach her to keep guests at an arm's length."
Saikaku looked towards the wall where Rue's painting hung. Her frozen corpse was still there, still looking at him somehow.
"The cold preserved her body," the reindeer continued, clacking her fingers softly all the while. "Long enough for me to preserve her soul."
"You've... stolen her soul?"
"Hardly." Emmalise scoffed. "I have given her a second life, a far more comfortable one I might add. As I have for Preen, as I have for all of my staff. Perhaps you will meet them some time."
"I would rather you let me leave," Saikaku said. His hands were tied close enough together to allow him to rub his fingers together and work up some heat with the friction.
"Nonsense," Emmalise said as Preen grabbed Saikaku's hands and squeezed hard.
"You are in no place to leave. You will stay, and you will rest." Lady Emmalise stood. The slip slid off from around her. Her slender body was a shining snowy white. Unmoored from its tight bun, her hair cascaded down her body, far longer than he had anticipated, its dark sheen framing and enhancing the dazzling glitter of her body, as though an endlessly churning blizzard was swirling inside her, just beneath her skin.
Her beauty was bewitching, otherworldly. The heat in Saikaku's chest and cheeks blazed hot. Infatuation flooded through him. He couldn't help it, or himself. But he still had his faculties. He could still piece things together.
"You're... a demi-god too, aren't you?" Saikaku asked.
"Correct," she said. "Some minor god of art and preservation. I never knew them. But that is beside the point."
"It is somewhat of a lonely existence, is it not? One feels distant from mortals. Not above them, but apart from them. Our lives are longer, less fragile, which makes it difficult to appreciate how truly special we are. We take our gifts and our powers for granted. But one - I have not been able to relate to them. So... that is why I cannot let you leave. Not when I can finally share my feelings and my perspective with someone else. Someone like you."
Saikaku could see in her eyes that she was as bewitched by his natural aura as Rue had been. Not that he intended on taking advantage of her; that was not, nor would it ever be his way. However, he knew he could use it to, at the very least, free himself. He squirmed in the tight palmed grip of the burly butler.
"All right..." Saikaku said. "You've convinced me. Can you let me go, please?"
"Of course." she waved a hand in the air, and he could feel those strange hardened bonds dissolving away. Preen released his paw, and he was finally able to stand again.
"I admit," Emmalise said with a tone approaching shyness, "I took advantage of your unconscious state to continue work. I have made a fair amount of progress, in fact..."
Saikaku was in no position to demur. He walked slowly and carefully, aware that Preen was following close behind. He wasn't going to bolt. Not right now, anyway. He would figure out the right time to escape. Perhaps in the middle of the night, or...
Saikaku stared back into his own face, rendered in the canvas. The rest of him was still mostly a mass of white paint that had yet to take shape, but his eyes, nose and mouth were visible. He seemed to be staring at nothing, looking up and to the left of the frame. He was smiling an easy, relaxed smile, one that Saikaku couldn't help reflecting.
"That's... quite beautiful," he murmured. He kept staring at it, particularly focusing on his eyes. They were looking up with such depth and warmth. Was this what others felt when they looked at him?
"I think I captured a bit of your soul," Emmalise whispered softly, her cool nude body hugging close to him. "I could not see your eyes, so I painted from memory."
Saikaku grunted softly, still staring into the golden gleam. They seemed distant, faraway, deep. They pulled him in. They made him feel envious. There was something so blissfully free about them. Free of thought, free of cares. He wished he could be like the Saikaku in the painting. Lounging and relaxing in a stately manor. He was already in the right place, come to think of it, so why wouldn't he indulge himself. It made sense.
He kept staring into his own reflection, the textured sheen of the oiled canvas shifting and breathing. He breathed with it, feeling Lady Emmalise's cold breath against his cheek. Her hands grasped and groped at his flesh. The chill was bracing.
A faint confusion wafted through his brain. The reindeer was a demi-god of creativity, wasn't she? Why was she so... cold?
The confusion vanished, though. He was too distracted by his smiling face and his glassy eyes. The longer he stared, the more he connected with it. The more he felt his thoughts and cares and worries being poured onto the canvas and mixing with the paint.
She wrapped around him more tightly now, her body engulfing him like a snow drift. He simply smiled into the painting and let the cool feeling wash over him. Had he ever really been cold to begin with? Really, he felt warm. Far too warm. He was glad that Lady Emmalise had stripped him bare.
"Now, we will lie together on the couch," Lady Emmalise said. "We will pose and Preen will sketch me."
"Yes..." Saikaku murmured. "Sounds... lovely."
He did not make any steps to move. He kept staring at the painting. He wondered how nice it would be to step into the unfinished canvas. He could vaguely glimpse the pleading face of Rue in the painting above, but it didn't matter. She was fine. She was just being punished for a bit. Why would he worry?
A gentle chilled tug pulled Saikaku away from the painting, snow melting between his toes with each step he could. It was, strangely, more refreshing than any sauna or spa he had ever been in. He was happy to stumble along with her, guided towards the couch, until he sprawled upon it in the position he had been in before.
Lady Emmalise climbed on top of him, her hair cascading down over him and blocking out all light save for the strange glow of her golden irises.
She smiled. A bigger smile than before, one that just erred on the right side of unnatural. She exhaled through her teeth, a long curl of chilly vapour washing over Saikaku's face.
"Your warmth..." she growled, "Belongs to me, now. I will have it. All for myself."
"My warmth..." Saikaku sighed. He was not about to question it. He saw no reason to. He was happy to give her his warmth. It was the least he could do, after the poor lady had fallen so madly for him. She pressed down, and he entered her. She growled and murmured with pleasure, her body shivering and seeming to lose definition for a moment. Not that that mattered for the lion. He gazed into the eyes, not caring to look at anything else. Her mouth opened wide, and as she inhaled, he exhaled, letting warm steamy breath flow into that maw.
Her hands pressed hard into his body, her hoof-hands dragging sharp lines down his muscular chest. The pain, and the chill... they did not matter. The sensation of his magical heat being drawn out of him... that did not matter either. He was happy to be engulfed by her body, to let her devour his warmth.
"Your warmth is mine..." she moaned. "Your soul... is mine. Everything you are, everything you ever have been is mine. My darling servant."
Saikaku could only moan and gasp as the heat, and the will, was slowly sucked out of him. He only got faint grasping glimpses of the demoness' true form - the antlers turning sharp and jagged, her pupils becoming slitted...
But by then, it was too late for him.
However, in another sense, it was too late for her.
As his resistance faded away, so too did his restraint. The radiant aura of his godly half poured forth. The glamour of a god of passion and romance. Emmalise felt her heart skip and flutter, and a shiver slide down her spine. She was falling under his spell, too.
"Hhh...?" the demoness recoiled and stiffened, pulling back. But she couldn't take her eyes off him, his beautifully placid face, the way his chest and stomach rose and fall with laboured, aroused breaths.
"Your... your warmth," she gasped. "Stop it... stop doing that..."
Saikaku did not respond, all he could do was stare at her with mesmerised adoration. And as she stared back, she began to understand what he was feeling. After all, she could feel it too. His warmth filling her. A desire to be close to him. A feeling of contentment whenever she looked at him, wherever she looked. The nape of his neck was beautiful, as was the crook of his arm, his chin, the slight bags under his eyes... every part of him was bewitchingly handsome.
She couldn't help herself. She couldn't turn him into a slave, put his soul in oil and canvas. She couldn't waste a beauty like this.
"Don't stop..." she said, leaning in to kiss him once more. Her demonic glamour faded, her form shifting back to the form of the slight, slender reindeer. Her walls clenched around him, milking out the most beautiful moans she ever heard.
She moaned in concert with it. Her body smothered his into the couch, worshipping him with her bucking and writhing. She kissed him, her hands on either side of his beautiful face. Her eyes rolled into her head as her head filled with warm, honeyed bliss.
He was so warm. So very, very warm...
The embrace of his passionate glamour corrupted her, and her devious desires melted into lustful love.
-
The lion stared up at the reindeer lady, adoration on his beautiful face.. His hands rested on her nude hips, and her back was curled, her head thrown back with visible ecstasy. From the angle she was riding him, one could not see the act of penetration, but that did little to diminish the intense, passionate eroticism of the painting. The two lovers, together, in a forever-frozen moment of pure, unbridled bliss.
Lady Emmalise admired her handiwork. She knew she was getting better and better. She had poured so much of herself into this painting. Anything less would not be acceptable to her, or her love.
"Beautiful," Lady Emmalise said, "Is it not, Saikaku?" She reached up to stroke his cheek. His hands rested on her hips, and one slid down between her thighs.
"It's perfect," Saikaku purred, resting his head on her shoulder. She turned to him and kissed him once again, each pouring their corruptive, mind-numbing essence into the other. Both unaware of the enchanted loop they had trapped themselves in, of the give-and-take of submission and dominance.
Emmalise clacked her fingers together, and Rue rushed to their side. She immediately dropped to her knees, laying one hand on the deer's thigh, the other on the lion's. Her needful gaze was like that of a puppy, eager for a treat.
"What may I do for you?" she asked, her eyes a glassy golden colour. She was far less unruly now; Saikaku's powers had seen to that. Now she did absolutely whatever they asked of her, without question.
"Fetch us some tea, please," Emmalise said.
"We would like to admire ourselves a little longer," Saikaku added, his fingers stroking through Rue's hair.
"Yes, of course!" she got back to her feet. "And then... may I pleasure you both?"
"You may." Saikaku smiled.
"Thank you Master, thank you Mistress!" she bounded out of the room; no more anxiety or worries lingered in her mind, replaced with endless, boundless obedience.
The pair watched her go, then returned to their warming embrace. They could barely keep their hands off each other. They rarely did.
The storm had long subsided, and the green of spring was beginning to poke shyly through the snow.. But Lord Saikaku would not leave. Not when he had found his love, and she had found him.
The pair of them would keep each other warm, and cool, with their deep abiding affection. And now that the weather had abated, they could seek out lost souls to save, to add to their collection of loyal, loving servants.
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