Chapter Text
Knowing the space is the best way to ensure your safety. Being aware of the danger facilitates survival, it prepares you for the difficult terrain, it arms you against predators.
Naming the threats drains them of their power.
But she had no name for that feeling, no defense for the way his arms captured her body; what was the point of putting on armor if he would strip it away so easily?
Weeks had passed since their unspoken trip to the coast.
They speak now; they discuss the routes, plans, treatments, conflicts, and negotiations. Not exactly like before, there was an air of politeness between them, an extra layer of fragility in their diplomacy.
A retrocess if she ever knew one.
Except when they were alone, then words became an afterthought.
Adaman pushed her against a tree in the meadow, one hand firm at her waist while the other pressed flat beside her head. The movement stole the air from her lungs more effectively than any battle ever had.
He was a handsome man, that was a well-known fact. The gods themselves surely had cut that chin; his brown eyes shone red in the morning light, as if heaven itself had sent her a warning sight.
Irida’s fingers curled instinctively against his chest, caressing his skin, sliding under his clothes.
“Sinnoh above…” he muttered, forehead dropping briefly against her shoulder as if he had exhausted himself just getting closer to her. He smelled her, and she could feel the anticipation building inside his body.
The meadow surrounding them stretched endlessly beneath the early sun, tall grass swaying softly in the wind, golden light spilling across the hills. Peaceful. Open. Far too exposed for the way his mouth had found her the second they were out of sight from the route.
“Adaman…” she whispered, though it lacked any real warning. It was infused with desire, joy even.
His laugh brushed warm against her skin. “We are alone.”
“That does not mean this is a good idea.” His tongue brushed her while the tip of his fingers played with her hair, “We are at sight…”
“Hm.” He sounded unconvinced. His nose traced lightly along her jaw before he kissed the corner of her mouth. “You keep saying that, but it was you who dragged me deeper into the forest.”
Irida hated how easily he noticed everything now. Every hesitation. Every glance. Every small weakness she failed to hide quickly enough.
The worst part was that he looked pleased by it.
Weeks ago, she would have given anything to be touched like this. Now she had it, and somehow it only made her more restless.
His hand slid lower at her waist, fingers pressing carefully against her hip. The movement made her shiver; his touch was anything but subtle.
Until now, their scandalous escapades had preserved her innocence. They kiss, they hug; maybe she lets his hand under her clothes; he likes it when she pulls his hair, she loves it when he bites her ears, but her virtue remained intact.
He hadn't complained yet, but she knew what he wanted. Hell, she wasn't sure of being able to stop him for too long; to be honest, she was getting out of excuses to convince herself. Something about old rules and manners, Old Pearl principles were almost impossible to remember with him breathing down her neck.
“We are going to be late…” She insisted without really letting him go.
“Meeting is after lunch.” His laugh was easy and soft.
Irida snapped out of his embrace, “You told me it was before lunch!”
“I lied,” She searched his face for something closer to regret, but found only amusement. She wished to be mad, to ignore the fact that now they had a few hours for themselves.
Damit, Adaman had become frighteningly easy to want.
Not only during those reckless moments when he cornered her somewhere private and kissed her until her thoughts disappeared, but afterward too. During meetings. During patrols. During ordinary conversations that should have meant nothing.
She had learned the sound of his footsteps before he entered a room, the difference between his polite laugh and his genuine one, the way his expression softened whenever she spoke.
Small things. Meaningless things.
Things that should not matter as much as they did. That matter before but now holds gravitas. Things that she had dreamed of and wanted for so long.
Maybe that was why she allowed it to keep going. She had been in love with him for so long, convinced that he would never love her, that now even a fraction feels enough.
Adaman tilted his head slightly, studying her face with growing suspicion.
“You’re doing it again.”
Irida frowned automatically. “Doing what?”
“Spacing.” His thumb brushed once against her side. “You always look troubled when you think too much.”
“Thinking is part of my responsibilities.”
“Yes, but usually you insult me while doing it.”
“Do you miss my insults?”
“Maybe”
Despite herself, her lips twitched faintly, and victory flashed across his face
There it was again: that unbearable warmth in his eyes whenever he managed to make her smile.
“You are unbelievable!” By some miracle, she managed to speak with clarity. “I had to run to get here on time,” she made an exaggerated groan, “My feet are killing me…”
Before she could tell another word, he swept her up, literally lifting her from the ground
“Adaman! What are you doing?” she held tightly, the butterfrees in her stomach went wild. He was as strong and tall as in her dreams.
“There,” he set her by the river, the clean weather and green grass framing her confused demeter.
With unusual care, he took out her shoes
“Adaman…”
“Easy,” he stood out, looking at her from above, “im not going to throw them away,” he laughed and started wandering around. He selected a few berries while she waited.
“What are you doing?”
Without a word, he kneeled in front of her; just that action was enough to take her breath away. Adaman, the proud leader of the Diamond clan, how could it be possible for him to look so dignified while standing on his knees?
Confusion still clouded her thoughts when he crushed the berries between his fingers and applied the oil to the soles of her feet.
The relief was instant; his palm radiated warmth through her skin, his fingers pressed just the right way.
“Aghtt…” an involuntary moan left her throat. What was happening? What did he gain by massaging her?
He worked his right foot for a few minutes and moved to her left, “Does it feel better?” He sounds so full of himself, so caring, almost sweet.
“Yes,” she melted into his touch, “Thank you…”
His brown eyes stayed on hers, bright with an affection she refused to name.
“Anything for you, my dear.”
Dear…
The word resounded in her head, echoing her fears, setting off all the alarms.
His expression turned harder, “Irida…” The concern in his voice made her chest tighten.
“Leave it,” she turned away, cowardly, leaving his touch. “We are going to be late.” Her stomach twisted.
She put on her shoes while refusing to meet his gaze, as a coward. He cleaned his hands in the river, pretending that her attitude didn't bother him.
How many others had stood where she was standing, trapped between his hands while he looked at them like they were precious?
“…Did you come here quite often?” The words escaped her mouth, Did you bring many women here? She failed to ask.
There it was again: that ugly, humiliating thing inside her. The constant need to measure what she meant to him against imaginary women she would never meet.
“What do you mean?”
“The meadow,” she clarified too quickly. “You seem familiar with it.”
Silence stretched between them.
She felt him getting closer, his hand around her waist, his hair tickling her neck.
Irida hated herself immediately. She hated how good his chest felt against her back, how much she wanted to ask for his kiss, the addictive feeling of his lips over her skin.
Adaman studied her carefully, the earlier playfulness fading into something quieter.
“No,” he answered after a moment. Whispering over her ear, as if it was a secret, “I think this is my first time this deep into the forest.”
The sincerity in his voice hurt more than it should have. She could tell he understood what she was asking.
His mouth returned to her, kissing her, pleasing her, touching her as only he could… it was overwhelming, so much that it almost made her forget about her doubts.
Almost.