Ash hadn't anticipated how goddamned difficult it would be to let her up from her slavery. Not for her, necessarily. Ash had long been wary of that, because he knew how deep subspace scenes could work, knew that the drop from them could be flat fucking brutal at times.
For both sides. It had to be done slowly, easily. Little adjustments. For instance, Ash knew better than to show her the closet he had for her. You see, with her as his slave, during those moments when he was away from her, he would sometimes see outfits he thought she would like, or shoes or scarfs, and he bought them.
There was also an eternity collar and set of cuffs in that closet, ones he had special ordered from Ivory's jewelry stores. He wasn't sure what the logic was for doing so, didn't really even think about where their relationship was going, but it had become clear that it was going somewhere.
But Ash couldn't just take her to that closet and tell her to get dressed. It'd be cruel to do so, in the same way it'd be cruel to take her to eat and tell her to choose whatever she wanted. She hadn't chosen those things, or even worn clothes, for a month now.
But Ash couldn't just choose an outfit for her, either, because he needed her to make some decisions and get used to that feeling again. He had to have her back to reality, so they could talk about where their relationship might go.
And that's where the difficult part came in for him. Because his thoughts would answer that with, Does he really have to have that though? Why not choose her clothes for her and guide her along the path of being his slave, while getting her used to going back to school instead?
Why not go for the walk and make quiet suggestions that end with her kneeling at his feet again by the end of the night? Ash had to focus and snarl at that voice to shut the fuck up.
Almost angrily, he chose three outfits, laid them out, and then he took a deep breath before he went to get her from the bathroom where she was drying her hair.
Ash grinned at the sight of her staring at herself in the mirror, because she was turning this way and that. She touched her lips and pressed her fingertips to her ass, where there were some lingering marks from the braided whip.
But then she jumped back when she saw him watching, and there was just a little bit of shy fear in her eyes, the kind that taunted his beast. Ash had to ignore his raging hard on as it was, just from the sight of her pressing his marks.
"Come on. Come and get dressed, lovely."
Obediently, warily, she did. She followed him and studied the outfits on the bed, her eyes going wide. All three were something to be worn outside, something comfortable.
"Oh! They're all so pretty. Thank you, M- um. Ash?"
Ash touched her nose, even though inside he was having his own little morality war. He itched to hear her say that unspoken word again.
"You're welcome, Jezebel. They're yours if you like them. Choose your favorite and let's have fun and talk. No more of those tears. There's nothing to cry about."
And her eyes were clear again. She seemed to be okay when Ash laid out the choices, and he was both glad for that and chafed to that. Goddamnit. Ash could see how to do it.
Which meant he didn't have any fucking excuse to not guide her out of it, had a responsibility to do it after he had so thoroughly enslaved her.
He sought solace in that cold place, wondering what this strange feeling was that made him want to feel the emotions, even though some of them hurt him.
Because the bad ones only seemed to intensify the ones that felt so very good. Like pain intensifying pleasure in his sex.
Ash spoke softly with her on the way to the trail he knew of, asking her about the book she was reading, which was an alternate history of the Tapestry of Bayeux.
It animated her like it had done even in her slavery to him. Books and histories, anything mentally stimulating, made her alive no matter what state they were in together.
Master and slave. Friend and friend. She spoke happily of Normandy's conquest of England in 1066 and it amazed him how into it she got.
She felt so much emotion for even these crazy things and Ash had learned things about his little slave, her likes and dislikes.
"But still not as interesting as the Battle of Stalingrad and WWII?"
"Nowhere close!" Her eyes were shining when she got out of his car. She had chosen jeans, with a light sparkly jacket, and she looked downright adorable with her hands in the pockets.
"There's nothing as good as WWII, though." She moved close to him when they walked together. After their stint, she curled into his arms with the ease of a lover, the familiarity of someone close. It soothed him to see it.
Where once his eyes had been so analytical, he watched these motions with the pleasure of someone involved. God, what was he thinking? She was years younger than him, emotionally unstable, but that instability also spoke of loyalty.
He had seen that adoration in her eyes, the gratitude for someone who could calm her. What was more, she was capable of empathy. He had to force her face in it, break her down, but she wasn't a bad soul.
No, she was warm and sweet and Ash knew she was young. He didn't want to take her life and experiences away from her.
He wanted to be part of them. If she insisted on trying different doms or people out, he would understand. It would hurt like hell, but she had a right to live and find out whether he was really what she wanted.
Maybe she would consider the idea of an open kind of relationship. Tricky, that, but if there was anyone it could work with, then he had to admit he was a good person for it.
Her laughter broke through to him and he turned his focus back to her. "I had to work up the courage to ask this, because it felt like breaking the rules to ask a question. What are you thinking about?"
They had reached the trail now and Ash smiled at her question. "Well, then, I feel I must encourage the behavior of asking me questions during certain conversations, and this is most certainly one of those conversations. I was thinking about how to propose a relationship with you."
Her nose wrinkled and Ash rolled his eyes. Relationship was a terrible choice of words, apparently.
"You mean the last legal form of slavery?" Ash lifted his eyebrow and she grinned.
"I'll take the real slavery to you any day, rather than a... than a... gilded cage..."
***