"I think that whatever you do to me, the kind of person I am would do what I did, and it's not worth betraying myself for physical comfort, no matter how great. If you wanted to help, in addition to whatever you're going to do to me, I would be glad of it."

"Usually, when someone says something like that to me, they're talking about offering themselves in a friend's or lover's place," he says. "And usually, I can confidently tell them they're going to regret it a few years down the road. I'm not so sure about you."

The dance continues. He's not enjoying it as much as he does with Siva, but it's still definitely enjoyable. Wherever they step, the rain falls around them, and they never touch a single drop.

"I don't know if I'll regret it either," he says, "but I'm not in the habit of letting the possibility of regrets slow me down."

"Interesting strategy. Can't say I recommend it," he says, in a voice filled with unexplained irony.

Spin, step, turn -

"Luckily for you, I don't think I want you to regret it."

And he spins Necori into his arms and kisses him as the rain-song fades. It is not at all a subtle kiss. It is forceful, passionate, violent. Exactly the sort of thing you'd expect if you believed the most common rumours about what happens to people spirited away by the Lord of the Howling Mountain.

And lovely in its own right, let alone the fact that everyone's watching.

The kiss goes on. And on. And on. He tangles his fingers in Necori's hair, bites his lip, pulls him close, closer - let there be no doubt in anyone's mind that he is going to take this man home and fuck him senseless -

And when he feels that that point has been reached, rather than do anything so mundane as let go, he dissolves them both into the wind and flies away.

They materialize atop the tallest tower of the castle.

"Infamous enough, d'you think?" he asks, laughing.

"That was brilliant," he says.

He grins delightedly.

"And so much more interesting than the stories where you kidnap girls. I always thought as a child that you must have terrible taste, until I grew up and discovered that some men actually like breasts and so on. It's still bewildering."

"I prefer women; that doesn't mean I won't touch men. As you may have noticed."

"It was very noticeable."

He laughs.

"They'll be talking about you for years."

"Oh, yes. Especially since you came down from the mountain twice in as many months, that usually never happens."

"Well, lately I keep finding people I'd rather dance with than torture. It's very inconvenient."

"Somehow I cannot bring myself to apologize."

"I can hardly expect you to."

"You realize it makes you seem even more like a story? The great and terrible Lord, who takes you away forever to torment unless you're polite and charming and agree to dance with him."

"It's a recent development. And it's not exactly being polite that does it."

"And if this were actually that kind of story it would only have been a single pure-hearted girl who cracked it, and you wouldn't actually like torturing people, just be under a curse that she could somehow crack with the power of cleverness and manners or something."

"It is technically true that if I don't keep torturing people I'll explode for magic reasons, but I built the spell that way myself and did not consider it particularly burdensome at the time."

"And it sounds very difficult to solve with the naive application of storybook heroine traits."

"Rather, yes."

"What is she like?"

He grins.

"Delightful."

"Promising, if unspecific."