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[BLACK JEWELS FIC] Warlord of Glacia- 8/12

Title: Warlord of Glacia
Author: Jourdana Standish/queenmidalah
Fandom: Black Jewels
Pairing(s): Morton/Wilhelmina Benedict
Rating: PG-13
Warning: Mentions of violence; language
Word Count: 16,241
Summary: A tangled web is changed when a certain Warlord takes matters into his own hands; he finds himself fighting for his life instead of embracing death. He also finds love, but could lose it by a few careless words.


Shortly after they last spoke, Wilhelmina began finding random bouquets of flowers strewn about in places she could find, but most had been arranged in her rooms. Some were accompanied with cards, others her favorite type of fudge. Sometimes it was a single flower, sometimes it was a large array of blossoms and usually all were most of her favorites. Only two people knew that information, and considering Jaenelle was quite preoccupied with other matters, it only meant one thing.

This revelation is what had Wilhelmina almost stomping down the hallway to the other end of the wing where Morton’s rooms had been made while he recovered. Her fists were closing and opening in frustration. The back of her mind was nagging at her that this was not a bad thing to be experiencing. The problem was, her heart ached, and the irrational part of her brain that was trying to protect her from further heartache was out and out pissed at Morton’s attentions. It was that part that was driving her at that moment.

"How dare you! Where do you th--." Walking in on a naked man had not been a part of the plan! Her cheeks flaring red with embarrassment, Wilhelmina spun so her back was to Morton. She felt slightly silly in doing so, considering how much of his naked form she had seen while she had been nursing him back to health, but with how her body instantly reacted to seeing him, she knew this time was very different. And this time was very similar to the first time she’d ever seen him fully naked after one particular call to arms had brought all of the boyos from their bed in the middle of the night and she got a good glimpse at what all of them wore to bed. Namely nothing at all.

Morton didn’t move at first, but he couldn’t help the grin that started to form as Wilhelmina blushed and spun away from him. He could detect a shift in her psychic scent, indicating just what she thought about his unclothed form. It gave him a thrill. The problem with things now, however, was he was still healing and sometimes his body liked to rebel against him to remind him of a few things. Like now.

As he reached for the loose pants he was going to slide on, his legs gave out and he landed on the floor with a grunt of pain. Wilhelmina was by his side immediately, her slender arm slipping around his waist and helping him up.

"Easy," she said quietly.

"Just when I think I’m okay to do normal things," Morton said, letting the frustration over his slower recovery show in his tone.

Wilhelmina shook her head, the ends of her dark hair brushing against Morton’s skin. He had to suppress a groan and prayed to the Darkness that his body didn’t offer a very swift betrayal to what her touch did to him, even one as minor as it was.

"You are recovering," she reminded him. "I know how bad it was, Morton. By rights, you should be demon dead now." Without even thinking, she grabbed the pants he had been reaching for, then lifted his legs to slip them into the material.

"I know," Morton said, his cheeks brightening with a sliver of embarrassment as he saw, and felt, his cock stiffening even slightly with her so close. She took note as well, her cheeks darkening further. Wilhelmina helped Morton to his feet and kept him steady as he pulled his pants in place. It did little to hide his obvious arousal.

"I... I should go," Wilhelmina said, her voice husky and her psychic scent betraying what she really wanted to do.

"Please don’t," Morton said. He wavered as he tried to step in front of her, resulting in her catching his waist. She tucked her tongue at him and maneuvered him to the bed, urging him to lay down.

"Don’t go," Morton said again, his voice a whisper.

Wilhelmina looked up, finally looking at him. She had been trying to avoid doing so. Her hurt and anger hadn’t dissipated much after the disaster of him waking up and being more coherent enough to say the hurtful things he had. But her heart fluttered and she couldn’t ignore the fact that she did love him.


"Please." His voice was a plea and his fingers found hers, immediately interweaving them together to keep her from leaving.

"You... you broke my heart," Wilhelmina whispered, tears filling her eyes. Her head ducked down and she stared at their entwined fingers as if she had never seen something like that before.

"I know," Morton whispered, his own pain over his actions coating his words. "I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you however I can."

"I don’t..."

Morton’s hands moved from hers, cupping her face. He lifted her head, making her look at him. His heart ached as tears slipped from her eyes and splashed onto their skin. He could see the pain in her eyes, and it burned his gut that he was the cause of this.

"I love you, ‘Mina," Morton said, his voice rough with emotion. "I will spend every moment of every day showing you that and making what I said right. Even if you can never forget what I said, I hope you can forgive me enough to show you that I me--."

The reaction he got was not one he had expected. He had expected her to wrench away from him, to maybe say yes and take it slow. What he had not expected was for her to cut his words off as her lips claimed his. He wasn’t complaining, by any stretch of the imagination, but he was stunned. Thankfully, his brain was not so slow to recognize what this was and his eyes closed, giving himself over to the kiss.

Morton finally forced himself to break the kiss. "‘Mina," he whispered. "‘Mina, stop."

"I thought..." Her cheeks flushed bright red and she tried to pull away quickly, but Morton was able to stop her.

"I want," he said quietly. "Oh how I want. I just... you’d be disappointed right now and I don’t want that." His cheeks were colored now. Admitting to such a shortcoming was embarrassing.

"Oh!" Wilhelmina blew out, understanding settling across her. She shifted so she could sit beside him, reaching for his hands.

"I doubt I would ever be disappointed, but you are still recovering. I don’t want to be the cause of any sort of relapse," Wilhelmina said.

"Can I, at least, hold you?" Morton asked. A soft smile ghosted across Wilhelmina’s face as she helped Morton lay back. Slipping her shoes off, she stretched out beside him, carefully resting against him as his arms wrapped around her.

"That you can do."

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