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Eizen sat by himself at the inn, a bottle of fine whisky at his side and his glass part full. He swilled it in his hand, watching the amber liquid. He was by himself; the rest had gone to bed or for a walk. He didn’t mind drinking alone so much - it gave him a chance to be alone with his thoughts. The inn was quiet, with only a couple of people around doing the same thing Eizen was. He took a sip of his drink, taking in the day’s events.
This was the first time they’d stayed in an inn for a few days. The team either slept on the ship, or camped out someplace. Admittedly, while Eizen didn’t usually sleep much, this was a nice change of pace. The peaceful quiet in an inn, the company of other people at other tables - this was nice.
The peace was briefly interrupted by the front door opening, but Eizen paid it no mind. Not until a figure appeared by the chair in front of him. He looked up, and Eleanor was smiling down at him, a little uneasy.
“You’re still awake?” Eizen asked. He was surprised really; even the daemons had gone to bed before her. She nodded.
“I don’t think I can sleep.” Her hand sat on the chair, unsure. “Do you mind if I sit with you?”
Well, there went his peace. At least it was only Eleanor and not Magilou. He gestured at the seat, and Eleanor sat down. She folded her hands on the table, looking away. What she wanted, Eizen didn’t know. He tapped his finger on his glass absentmindedly. His quiet had turned from peaceful to uncomfortable.
“Do you want a drink?” he asked.
“I’m only eighteen,” she said quietly, making sure no one else heard. So it wasn’t a no. Eizen scoffed.
“I’m not gonna force you, but you and I have done far more illegal things than underage drinking.”
Eizen never called himself a good influence - he’d freely admitted before that he was a poor influence - but it wasn’t like he could pour the whisky down her throat. Their table went quiet again, back to uncomfortable. Eleanor became fixated on her gloves like they were made of solid gold. Eizen was waiting for her to make an excuse and go, but she didn’t.
“Would you mind?” she asked.
“If I did, I wouldn’t offer. Go to the bar and ask for a glass.”
Eleanor nodded, before going over to the bar. This was certainly a surprise; who knew Eleanor would actually join him? She might be fun when tipsy, with her hair down and her inhibitions loosened. They may even share common ground beyond the nerdy interests they shared. As she came back, he realised he didn’t know her all that well - not as well as he knew most of the others. A damn shame, really. This was a perfect opportunity.
She came back with a glass in hand, before sitting down. Without a word, he unscrewed the top and poured her two fingers of whisky, before sliding the glass over to her. She brought the glass to her lips, and while it would have been funny to watch her gulp it in one go, Eizen wasn’t that cruel.
“It’s not a shot, you don’t have to drink it all at once,” he said.
“I- I knew that,” she mumbled, before taking a little sip.
The look on her face was priceless. Horror crept on her features like she’d tasted something foul, letting out a small choked cough, before covering her mouth. Her eyes were wide, blinking at Eizen, who couldn’t help but smirk.
“First drink?” he asked.
She opened her mouth, likely to lie, before looking away. “Yes, the Abbey forbids the consumption of alcohol.”
That explained why Eizen never saw them at bars, but he assumed they had their own bars. Psh, puritans. He was glad he had no involvement with that organisation.
“Now that you’re no longer in the Abbey, you can take control of your own life again.”
That wasn’t as comforting as Eizen hoped it would be. Eleanor leaned her elbows on the table, hunched over a little. Her eyes were still to the side, particularly fascinated by an empty chair across the room. Eizen was about as comforting as a rock smashing against glass, but then again, he took that as part of his curse.
“I suppose,” Eleanor sighed.
Eizen raised an eyebrow. “But given the chance, you’d go back.”
It wasn’t a question - it was a statement, one Eleanor did not deny. She wiped the condensation from her glass with her thumb, making tiny squeaks.
“I don’t know, but I certainly wouldn’t travel with daemons again. Or a witch.” Eleanor finally looked over at Eizen. “Or a reaper, for that matter.”
A laugh passed his lips. “So you do believe in it.”
“I do, but I still believe it's overblown.”
“Even after everything you've seen.”
Eleanor brought the glass to her lips, before taking a sip. She let the glass linger there for a moment, giving her time to think of an answer. Then she brought it down with a soft thud.
“Yes. I feel like if I said I believed in it, that would imply I'm scared of you.” She looked him in the eye. “But I'm not.”
Eizen shrugged off the comment. “I can't tell if you're fearless or foolish.”
“I- I wouldn't say either,” she frowned.
Eizen would say a bit of both. She was headstrong, but she was also naive. That came with her age, he supposed. Though he hoped she would never grow bitter, that her kindness and optimism would remain. Of course, it wasn't his place to say that. Instead, he refilled her glass.
“Are you trying to get me drunk?” she asked.
“No, but I feel if anyone needs a stiff drink to loosen up, it's you.”
Well, Eleanor and Velvet, but Velvet was far less likely to drink. Eleanor hummed in disapproval, but said nothing else. She held the cold glass between her hands, looking down at it.
“You don't have to drink it if you don't want to,” he said.
“No! I can drink as well, I can assure you.”
That didn't stop the hesitatant look on her face, her brow furrowed and her lip curled. He hadn't seen Eleanor so hesitant since she was told she would have to take sale’tomah - which, in retrospect, was funny. It was only a shame he'd missed her taking it.
“You get used to the burning,” he said, fully aware that wouldn't help much.
Eleanor sighed. “It isn't so bad.”
She took another drink while Eizen drained his glass. The table fell to quiet again, though this time, Eizen didn’t feel the need to bolt from the table. Eleanor barely touched her drink, and Eizen shamelessly tipped his back. It took more alcohol to get him buzzed - not only from his time as a pirate, but as a malak as well.
Eleanor, on the other hand, was already tipsy by the end of her glass. He hovered the bottle over her glass, but she didn't stop him. Eizen filled her glass - about a finger this time. She cupped her glass between her palms again.
“I'm glad I met both and and Laphicet,” Eleanor admitted quietly, looking down into her glass. “If I hadn't, I would have never learned about makakhim.”
“You're not the only person who thought of us like you did,” he said.
“Is that really an excuse? I don't think it is. I can't believe I ever thought of malakhim - of you - as tools.”
Eleanor sniffled. Ah crap, she was going to cry - Eizen was never equipped for tears. The alcohol in her system was only going to make things worse. He sighed softly, holding back irritation.
“It's fine. You know now, so it doesn't matter.”
Now if only the other humans could give more of a crap, that would be nice. Eleanor wiped her eyes - Eizen was surprised she was holding it together as much as she was. Though her eyes were still red and watery, she was calming down. She took a deep breath, before finally looking back up at him.
“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t get so emotional over it,” she said with a sniffle.
“Feeling something is just proof you’re alive. Don’t let the Abbey or anyone tell you otherwise,” Eizen said, raising his glass to her.
The Abbey’s idea of perfection was to lock away emotions like an unruly daemon or a therion, kept in place with a barrier. No wonder they were all so uptight.
“Are there many differences between malakhim and humans?” Eleanor asked.
Eizen paused for thought, before shaking his head. “We sense things differently, but otherwise, we’re largely the same.”
There was a flash of something that passed in Eleanor’s eyes, and she opened her mouth to voice it, but immediately clammed up. Eizen didn’t think much of it until she stopped looking at him again, her interest taken by the long-dead fireplace in the corner. Her face had turned a nice shade of pink, but he didn’t know if it was the alcohol or something else. He leaned closer, almost whispering in her ear.
“Even physically, there's no difference, if you catch my meaning,” he said, before taking a drink.
“Eizen!” she squeaked, embarrassment reaching a boiling point.
He laughed. That was too easy. Eleanor tapped her fingers on the wooden table and tried to hide her face behind her hair. Eizen shrugged.
“It's not my fault if you're thinking about it,” he said.
“I wasn't! … And I'm still not!”
Eleanor crossed her arms on the table and looked away with a huff. Aw, she was cute when she was embarrassed.
“That look on your face says you've never slept with anyone.”
Eleanor sucked in her breath to deny it, sitting tall and proud, before deflating. “And I suppose you're a pirate with experience.”
Not as many as she was probably envisioning, but he was over a thousand years old; he was bound to fuck eventually. There were times he had found himself drunk at a port among other drunk people who were just as horny as he was. Then he’d wake up in a stranger’s bed and get back to the Van Eltia in time for Aifread to get angry with him. He had absolutely no regrets. He could tell Eleanor this, but her face while she ran through imagined sexcapades was priceless, so he didn’t.
“What, are you imagining it?” he asked.
Her eyes widened. “No! I would never think of you like that.”
They were lucky they were alone - the other patrons retired to bed, and the man at the bar wasn't listening. Eizen leaned back, smug. Embarrassing Eleanor wasn't difficult, but it was rewarding nonetheless. He tried to pour himself more whisky, but the bottle was empty. Damn. This was his sign he needed to go to bed - he had been drinking for some time alone.
“I think we need to get to bed.” As soon as the words left Eizen’s mouth, Eleanor looked shocked. “No, I wasn't trying to proposition you.”
Eleanor bit her lip. “Oh. Well… good.”
Eleanor wasn't quite looking at him. She plucked at her gloves, looking at a spot of wall beside his ear. Despite her bravery in most things, Eleanor was still nervous, especially around Eizen. He had no reason to scare her, but she acted like a bird faced with a cat. There was something she wasn’t telling him probably, but she wasn’t a good liar either way.
“I just wanted to tell you that I had fun,” she said. “We don’t get many chances to talk like this.”
They both had different lives, different interests, standing on different sides. It was understandable, butt was a shame: Eleanor was a nice person. Maybe that was reason enough to keep her away from Eizen. He gave her a small smile.
“Aye. You’re better company than Rokurou.”
Rokurou was an interesting daemon for sure, and he was a good drinking buddy. On the other hand, there was a sort of shallowness to him - there was nothing beyond him, nothing in his heart. It was clear he’d lost his humanity. Eleanor, on the other hand, was different. Her heart was pure and full of love and compassion. She embodied what Eizen loved about humans. He pushed that thought away for the moment; he didn't want to think about what that meant.
“I’m sure that’s meant to be a compliment,” she said, barely stifling a laugh. Eleanor stood, abandoning the last dregs of her drink. “I should get to bed, otherwise Laphicet will worry about me. Goodnight, Eizen.”
“Wait.”
To his surprise, she did: he didn’t know why he stopped her. Maybe his head had clouded from expensive whiskey, maybe he was over thinking about what Eleanor was. He didn't know (at least, that was what he was telling himself). Leaf green eyes stared at him, and he found himself lost in the forest of her eyes. This was no time to be waxing poetic over her.
Then again, this was probably the perfect time.
Eizen stood and expected the alcohol to have made his head spin - to his surprise, he was fine. He knew he was being stupid, but did he care? He realised as he reached over, cupping her soft cheek in the palm of his hand: no, he didn't give a shit. He was just about drunk enough to think this was a smart idea. Eizen wasn't a decent man, not by a long shot. That was why he waited a moment for Eleanor to shove him away. She wasn't stupid enough not to know his intentions. A blush bloomed on her cheeks, but she didn't stop him.
That was good enough for him. He pulled her in and her hands found their way to the front of his waistcoat, her fingers digging in. When his lips brushed against Eleanor’s, she let out a quiet gasp before firmly pressing against his mouth. It was clumsy, awkward, a little too hard, but it was a start. His arm looped around her waist, pressing their bodies together. She leaned on her tiptoes, her breath hard, and it hit him - good Lords, he'd taken her first kiss.
The thought was interrupted by Eleanor trailing her hand down his front, down to his stomach. If he was sober, he might have stopped her and pretended to be decent. Instead, he placed his hand on her ass, though he couldn't feel much through the layers and frills. Damn exorcists. She pulled away just enough to speak, her breath hot on his face.
"We could take this elsewhere," she whispered, casting a pointed look at the bar man who pretended not to look. Eizen nodded.
"Good idea."
Before she could walk away, Eizen slid an arm under her knees and swept her off her feet. Her words were cut by a kiss, turned into a muffled moan. Eleanor’s arms looped around his neck as he carried her up the stairs. He’d never been so glad he had insisted on his own room, otherwise there was no way in hell Eleanor would have agreed to this.
They reached the door. Eizen fumbled with the handle, praying that his curse wouldn’t fail him now. With a soft click, it opened. Relief. He closed the door behind him with his foot, before all but throwing Eleanor on the bed. He didn’t get a chance to take his boots off before Eleanor had him by the front of his shirt. Her grip was tight, and she pulled hard, bringing his lips to hers once more.
Eleanor was surprisingly impatient: her fingers were already working on the fastenings of his clothing. Eizen all too happily let her while he tried to work on her too complex, too frilly uniform.
"I want to rip it off," he hissed against her lips.
She pulled away and was silent for a moment. Eleanor looked down at her clothing, then looked up at Eizen.
"If you make it a clean rip, I could fix it."
Holy hell. For a moment, Eizen had to make sure it really was Eleanor Hume agreeing to this. Alcohol certainly changed her. He grabbed her skirts in his hands and tugged hard. The fabric tore cleanly, an easy fix, but that wasn't on his mind at that moment.
Eizen grabbed her legs and lifted them up, forcing her back down against the pillows. Eleanor let out a gasp, and she was saying something Eizen couldn't hear. It wasn't protesting, that was all he cared about. He pulled off her boots, before trailing kisses up her thighs. Eleanor shuddered under every touch, her breath unsteady. He took a second to admire the mess he had already made of her.
Eleanor truly was something else.
He ran his hands along her thighs, trailing along the ancient and faded scars. Sometimes, it was easy to forget what a warrior she was.
Eizen hooked his thumbs in the waistband of her underwear before pulling them down slowly, watching her expression. She seemed apprehensive, but certainly not unwilling. He pulled them down to her ankles before yanking them off, and she parted her legs for him. Eizen leaned over Eleanor, leaning on his elbow for support as his free hand trailed down her body.
He watched Eleanor shudder under him, her eyes half shut. His lips met the base of her neck, leaving ghosts of kisses on her skin. She rolled her head back to let Eizen kiss every inch of her neck. Eizen lowered his hand past her stomach and down between her legs. A sharp gasp burst from her lips before parting her legs more for him.
His fingers brushed against her, and she bucked her hips into his touch. He teased her clit and watched Eleanor's face as she melted. Her moans were quiet huffs, but she clasped a hand over her mouth to keep herself quiet. As much as Eizen wanted to hear her, he wanted even more for the others not to hear. Then again, that made it more exciting.
His free hand groped her breast through her clothes, and she let out a content sigh. She rolled her head back into the pillow and whispered his name under her breath. Eizen knew then his name would never sound the same coming from her. His erection twitched in his pants in response.
Eleanor wrapped her arms around Eizen's neck, then her legs around his waist. Before he could say anything, she flipped them over, using his confusion as leverage. She grinned down at him, triumphant. Eleanor leaned over him, and Eizen ran his hands up her back.
"What are you gonna do now?" he asked, his voice low.
Eleanor hesitated for a beat, before looking down at Eizen's pants. Without a word, she unfastened his pants and slipped a hand in. Eleanor freed his erection carefully, wrapping a hand around it. She looked at it for a moment before stroking it slowly. Eizen swallowed hard, stifling his own moan. He did not, in a million years, think Eleanor would touch him. Eizen was not complaining.
Eleanor's strokes were slow, a little unsure, until Eizen guided her hand. He thrust his hips in time with her strokes, his moans a low groan. Her eyes flickered between his face and his dick, as if she didn't quite know where to look. Eizen propped himself onto his elbow and slipped his hand between her legs again.
Eleanor squeezed him for a moment, surprised, but she loosened up. Eizen placed his middle finger by her entrance, before slowly pressing it in. Eleanor went to put a hand over her mouth, but Eizen stopped her - right then, he didn't care who heard her. She let out a slow moan, making her best efforts to stay quiet. Eizen would have to try harder.
He thrust his finger inside, and though Eleanor lost her rhythm, she remained quiet. She was probably used to being discreet; good girls weren't meant to touch themselves. Eizen sat up, making Eleanor sit in his lap. He pressed another finger inside, and she very nearly let go. Eleanor placed a hand on his cheek before pulling him in for a kiss, teeth clashing against each other as she kissed him desperately. He tugged the ribbons from her hair before losing his hand in the amber tresses. She looked so much prettier with her hair down.
Eleanor rode into his hand, bringing her hips down hard against him. He thrust into her hand, and all he could think about was fucking her senseless. Fuck it. He batted her hand away and brought her closer, close enough for their chests to touch. He raised her hips over himself and positioned his dick. Eleanor placed her hands on his shoulders to anchor herself with a small nod.
Eizen sat his hand on her hip to guide her as he eased himself inside her. He let out a moan in the crook of her neck; fuck, she was tight. Eleanor took in a sharp breath, but she didn't try to stop. She lowered herself down further on him, digging her fingers into his shoulders until he was fully inside. He didn't move, instead opting to let her set the pace to start with.
She kept a slow pace, but her breaths in Eizen's ear sent jolts up his spine regardless. Eleanor leaned back, looking down at him with half lidded eyes. Eizen still couldn't quite believe this was happening. He moved his hips to meet hers and she let out an undignified moan. Her hand flew over her mouth, her cheeks a bright pink, and Eizen smirked up at her. Her gaze darted elsewhere, before looking back at him.
"You don't have to hold back on my account," she mumbled.
"I'm not," Eizen said, his stupid smirk still on his face. "But if you want me to let loose, you only have to ask."
Eleanor bit her lower lip. "I didn't know I'd have to ask a dirty pirate to be rougher with me."
So that was what she wanted. Eizen was always happy to oblige. He gripped her hips tightly and thrust into her hard. Eleanor gave a sharp gasp, but she moved her hips to meet him. He buried his face in her neck again, this time sinking his teeth into the soft flesh. If she wanted rough…
From the sounds of her moans, she did. Her fingers combed through his hair, wordlessly encouraging him. She tried to keep quiet, but she was anything but quiet. Eleanor called out his name, the syllables long and drawn out, and something sparked inside Eizen.
He flipped their positions once again, with Eleanor back on the bottom. She looked up at him, chest heaving, eyes full of want. He slid his hands under her knees and pushed her legs further apart, before thrusting back into her. Eleanor melted against the mattress, gripping the pillow beneath her head. Her hair splayed out over the pillow like a fiery halo. Eleanor was much prettier under him.
His thrusts became more erratic, more desperate. He threw Eleanor's legs over his shoulders, palms by the side of her head. Eleanor gripped his arms tightly, her eyes closed. Her moans progressed to damn near shouts, and Eizen loved every second of it. Her fingernails dug into his arm as she tightened around him, back arching.
That was enough to push him past the edge with her. His fingers curled in the bedsheets as he reached his climax, shuddering. Eizen released her legs and pulled out. This was certainly unexpected, but he wasn't complaining. Eleanor, however, was.
"Eizen!" she exclaimed, realising what he had done.
He shrugged. "You don't have anything to worry about with that."
Despite knowing malakhim are sterile, there was still something strange about admitting it. He stayed at the foot of the bed, expecting Eleanor to gather her things and flee. She didn't. Instead, she'd made herself comfortable on his bed. He was never one for post-sex cuddling, and definitely not with a one night stand. Still, he supposed it would be awkward to go back to her room with a ripped up skirt and holding her boots.
"So you're staying." It wasn't a question, more of a statement.
Eleanor nodded. "If you don't mind."
The weird thing was that he didn't mind. He laid down, with Eleanor curling beside him, her back to him. What, was she expecting a spoon? She shuffled, before looking at Eizen over her shoulder.
"What does a malak need a room to himself for?" she asked.
"Mostly for privacy, occasionally for moments like this," he said. "I'm not an exhibitionist, and I like my own space."
Yet for the moment, Eleanor shared that space with him, despite being another notch in his belt. Was that it? He didn't particularly want to delve into this. The thought would remain discarded on the floor like Eleanor's underwear.
"I see."
She said nothing else, instead falling asleep by his side. Eizen watched her for a small while, before falling asleep himself. He had a feeling that things would not be the same between them.