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thrihyrneStill ensnared by these two and my vision of their early history. Story continues from the fourth post, here. Also posted on the Forever pink boards for WsIP. Feedback and commentary welcome!
Title: Maelstrom and Mage, Desire Thine Darkling
Rating: this post definitely adult
Warnings: slash, WIP, introspective Ashmael
Word Count: 5,677
Disclaimer: Ashmael, Vaysh, and the harish world all belong to Storm Constantine; I'm merely playing with great abandon in her sandbox.
Pairings: Vaysh/Ashmael
Summary: Genesis. Paradise. Illumination. Exodous. Before they went to Immanion, before Thiede manipulated their destiny, before death and despair, Ashmael and Vaysh knew and loved each other. This is one way their story may have been told.
Paul's change took more out of him than Jared; given his anger and perhaps false bravado, he wasn't able to stand on his own or clean himself for several days once his althaia had run its course. Jared had already taken a harish name, Gladwyne, and begun learning of his new race (and the delights to be found in his newly-modified body) with Wycker. Jaffa also spent a lot of time with him, as they were closest in age. And Jaffa was drawn to novelty, as a newly incepted har certainly was. Maybe Gladwyne's pull to Wycker had brought Jaffa back in harmony with his brother. Wycker and Jaffa were enough alike to be thick as thieves, especially in times of danger. Not infrequently, however, they sniped and were at each other's throats.
Apparently I'd made an impression on Paul as he did ask for me to come and complete the pact he'd been forced to sign with Wraeththu. Polaris had sidled over to me during dinner, squeezing Vaysh over on the bench so he could speak low in my ear. I'd felt Paul's eyes on me through the meal, his first with us as a group. His gaze had felt like burning coals, stirring embers of intrigue in my loins.
"Paul's well enough now, and his body's going berserk. You remember what it's like," Polaris said softly, though doubtless everyhar at the table knew why he'd undertaken his mission to talk to me. We lived rather in a communal fishbowl, none of us taking residence too far away from the centre structures of Castlegar. There were also no secrets, and relatively little privacy, which was beginning to gnaw at me.
"I didn't have the best first aruna experience," I said candidly, using my dinner roll to sop of the last of a tasty venison stew Vox and Jaffa had created. "More along the 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' variety. I'll make sure Paul's is more memorable. In a good way," I felt the need to clarify.
"Of course," Polaris said, the words dripping with innuendo before his face took on a more sombre expression. "You will treat him well? I've become quite fond of him. And he's a stunning har. Who'd've thought under all that vitriol and filthy mouth would be such raw beauty?"
Vaysh turned and gave the new har a look under which anyone else, even myself, would have withered and turned to a pile of ash. Paul took a long drink of wine but held Vaysh's gaze, challenging him unflinchingly. Though I didn't let it show, my soume aspect kicked into high gear for a moment— I swooned at the ferocity etched in Paul's face.
"Vaysh incepted him," I said, stabbing at some chunks of potato still in my bowl. "Are you sure he doesn't want him? You have my word Paul won't be disappointed."
Vaysh growled low in his throat, then composed himself as though this were perfectly normal dinner conversation.
"I might get carried away with one that feisty," he said, angling his head to speak to us in conspiratorial tones. It also allowed him to show off the bruised blossoms of my enthusiastic kisses on his neck from the night before. "He should only be broken in, not broken, full stop."
"Enough," I said, my brow furrowing even though I knew, or really hoped, it was all in jest.
Polaris clearly reveled in our banter; a born gossip, thankfully his fists were as fast and lethal as his tongue. "He's been staying with us, but Vox got him set up in his own room. On the second floor."
I nodded. They lived in a large residence in the heart of the grounds, a home the size of an inn and structurally sound. Anything of value had been stolen ages ago, and there were shadowy marks on the walls where pictures had hung for a few decades according to the histories I'd read.
"I could keep you company, Vaysh," Polaris offered, genuine warmth in his voice. "I just happen to have an unopened bottle of bourbon that I found during my last scouting mission. That and some cards and my charming self? You'd be a fool to say no."
My heart swelled at his hopeful earnestness. Our two groups had merged near-seamlessly once we'd settled on the mountain, and everybody adored Vaysh in their own way.
"Bourbon?" Vaysh's head snapped to Polaris, eyes twinkling. "You're a rogue for not telling me until now. Come to our room later. The door will be open." A sly smile slid onto his lips.
"I guess I'll be going," I said to nohar in particular, and there was no answer. I did feel the scrutiny of several pair of eyes as I left the dining hall and found that I stood up straighter under their pressure. Back in the suite of rooms I shared with Vaysh, I took my time engaging in some perfunctory primping; knowing Vox and Jaffa, who'd been close as shadows to Paul during the meal, they'd try and turn him into some prettified manwoman. I suspected that at first, until he learned to understand his feminine aspects, Paul would shun his less familiar side. I'd be the first to teach him, through lessons of transcendent pleasure — I hoped! — to welcome and embrace that unknown, secretive and strong part of himself. Soume. To be honest, it still intimidated and perplexed me at times.
It was bracingly cold; I was glad I didn't have to walk far to get to the building I thought of as 'the chancellery,' as the chancellors of the school had lived there in the past. My pulse quickened once I was inside and could take off my gloves, warming my hands over a merry fire down in the main foyer. Somehar had also thoughtfully placed a decanter of some liquor on a side table, though I wasn't sure what it was. It seemed like a mix of vralsfire infused with cinnamon, and I poured two glasses, taking them upstairs.
Paul's room wasn't hard to find, a band of light cheerily escaping into the corridor and beckoning me in to behold the treasure hidden within. Since my hands were full, I nudged open the door and found myself engulfed in the scent of spruce and sandalwood. Paul was pacing, but stopped when he heard me enter. I placed the glasses on a dresser and shut the door behind me, leaning on it for stability. Whatever Jaffa and Vox had done to him was subtle, bringing out the stark beauty that had been formerly hidden under his arrogant façade. I couldn't help but stare, devouring him with my gaze, suddenly irritated when a feeling of guilt flitted in my chest. Taking aruna after inception was a necessary act, and besides— it was integral to our being, like eating or breathing. Jealousy and the idea of possession was a human trait. Though I strove to cast such things off, back then, they continued to mark me like the whorls on my fingers.
"What are you thinking?" he asked hesitantly, striding over to pick up one of the glasses of amber liquid. "One of these is for me, right?"
"Yes, sorry."
I didn't know if my apology was for not offering it to him, or for my regressive thoughts. "I was thinking about how attractive you are."
This was no fiction. His hair was a rich chestnut, wavy and hanging around his face. His hazel eyes as he evaluated me, tended toward a tawny gold, though I well imagined they would seem to change colour depending on the light or his mood. Paul's face transformed at my words; timidity and uncertainty fled, replaced by a sultry stare.
"So you don't mind, then?"
He drank the entirety of his liqueur and ran the back of his hand against his lips. It was such an unassuming gesture, I felt my reserve give way. His lips weren't particularly lush; in truth, his more soume aspects were elusive.
"No. I hope I don't disappoint," I said, putting down my glass to walk over to him. I rested one hand at the base of his spine, the other cradling the back of his head.
He made a dismissive sound.
"Impossible."
Paul moved against me, wrapping his arm about my waist, swaying his hips slightly. I felt a noticeable hardness pressing into my thigh. This was going to be interesting.
"Breathe into me," he commanded softly. "Don't hold back tonight, not with anything." His gaze was molten, ferocity gleaming in his eyes.
"You seem to have taken this well," I said, my lips hovering over his as he let out hot puffs of air. "Not going to surprise me by kneeing me in the balls and running off, are you?"
Paul leaned back just a bit, licking at the corner of his lips where a sticky moisture from the drink still remained. Desire and physical want radiated from him. I knew that feeling, of being parched and needy, desperate for the renewal only another har's touch could bring.
"No." A sheepish look crossed his face. "I'm glad I still have my own balls, to be honest. You were a damn bastard, you know," he said, beginning to grind against me with more intention. "You didn't say a word about the fact that all of our changes would be sexual."
"Because they're not!" I insisted, leaning in to share breath with him, but he evaded my lips to get out another confession.
"I've had my hand in my pants. A lot. The new parts— they kind of creep me out, so I need you to make it right. I know you can, that's why I picked you. You're strong and you act like a man. You seem safe to me."
"Let's go lie down on your bed," I said and Paul nodded. My ouana-lim was beginning to press insistently against my own trousers, but I felt I owed him a short explanation and clarification before I ravaged him. No doubt he'd heard plenty from everyhar else, but I was with him now.
I took the liberty of tossing another couple of logs on the fire before joining him. I also took off my sweater, shirt and boots, and forced him to keep my gaze while with unhurried hands, I unbuttoned his shirt. Skin on skin was sublime. It took all of my willpower not to shove down our trousers and swallow his stiff length and make him writhe in pleasure. A quick — very quick — overview of being a hermaphrodite, and then I would tease to life the pleasures inside of him he formerly never could have imagined.
"Like all hara, I'm male and female, though I know I don't express my feminine as blatantly as some. Having both genders is our gift, one of them," I said, kneading at the narrow flesh of his backside. Paul and Gladwyne both could stand to put meat on their newly harish bones.
"I know. I just didn't…" his voice trailed off, and he buried his face in my neck. "I've been stuck in my head, analysing things, and feeling myself up. I'm tired of both," he said impatiently, pressing faint, chaste kisses on my skin.
I felt another embarrassing swoon coming on.
"Share breath with me," Paul said, his voice raspy, all but begging. "I'm ready to really be one of you."
"You already are."
Deep and expansive, we shared breath, images and rising winds of desire flowing back and forth. Our tongues danced and teased; I savoured sparkling summer starlight and the flavour of tart apples, Paul's warm taste. When his fingers became grasping talons, I broke away and we finished undressing. He'd been bountifully endowed in the ouana-lim realm, and felt my body warring with its two polarities. I had to penetrate him, that was the way our bodies shuddered and threw off the last vestige of being human. We might contain both sexes, but right then I wanted nothing more than us both to be ouana, to cross swords and spill our delights on each other. What if that only made his body more crazed?
"Ashmael," Paul said, his voice demanding. He turned so he lay on his back, his kiss-swollen lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded as they'd been the afternoon Vaysh had incepted him. He tugged me on top of him, pulling me down and intermingling our hands in a tight grip. Velvet over steel, soft petals opened as we rubbed together, slick with opalescent offerings. I sighed and growled, rutting against him, not heeding how thin and wiry he was. My own passions had become like a wild horse, bucking and running amok. This wasn't for me, however, the focus was on Paul. I eased out of his grip, mapping the cartography of his bony torso with kisses.
He groaned and uttered other, less-defined noises, sounding like a wounded creature. I pushed him up the bed and lay on my stomach, ignoring for now the shimmering pearl of his ouana-lim and instead trying something whose inspiration had come just moments before: I licked and drank, teasing forth the honey-lemon nectar from his soume-lam. Paul's moans softened to surprised gasps and trills of pleasure. When my tongue and jaw began to ache, I sat back and noticed his body had responded to my ministrations.
Taking aruna with Paul that first time, I was a long spade, digging deeply into warm, loamy earth. He kept his eyes open, unable or unwilling not to keep my expressions in his sights. With each thrust I planted my own strength and hope for harakind into him; he seemed like the embodiment of a comet, a constellation of light fallen to earth.
He chanted a steady stream of monosyllabic profanity as our energies neared completion. "Don't hold back," I panted, tossing back his earlier comment as I sensed the interweaving of our release.
With him, our energies were tightly wound, like a compressed double helix that spun explosively apart as he shouted into the room. Lights danced behind my eyes as the last of our exultant energies flew far off out into the fathomless universe. Eventually the subtle noises of the room faded back into my consciousness and we uncoupled. I lay back down at Paul's side where he looked at me, his cheeks flushed and his eyes full of wonderment. Long, companionable moments went by.
Licking at his dry lips, eventually he said in a hoarse voice, "You didn't say anything about that, either."
"Did so. I said there was a reward, didn't I?"
His attempt at a disdainful look largely failed. "Reward doesn't cover how amazing that felt."
I smiled and began to hold him to me but he made an embarrassed noise. "Um, think I should go to the bathroom or something. I'm… well… leaking."
I cringed inwardly for him, but gave him a reassuring smile. He returned minutes later and at last I was able to feel his warm body splayed next to mine again. We spoke for a while before the warmth and exertion caught up to me and I started to drift off.
"I know my name," he said thoughtfully, and I opened my eyes.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, but I'm not telling until the morning."
"Fair enough. Now rest up a bit, because there's more to this experience. The night is quite young," I said, attempting a feral smile.
Later, in the heart of the night, I became soume for him, and was unsurprised at his ferocity. Were I not as well muscled as I was, no doubt I'd have returned to Vaysh with bruises on my shoulders from where Paul had gripped me. As it was, we rejoined our group at lunch the next day to catcalls and leering comments made in jest. I shrugged them off, casting my gaze around for Vaysh, but he wasn't there. Disquiet rumbled in my chest, but I forced myself to ignore it, instead acting like the leader I was being groomed to be.
"Fellow companions of Castlegar," I announced, "I present to you Parallax, our newest har. Proper celebrations and caste ascensions will be held at the feast of the solstice, twelve days from now."
Jaffa and Vox waved Parallax over, and after a longing, heated gaze up into my eyes, he walked over and joined them. I sat near Euclase and Kyrgian, who was, as usual, engrossed in a conversation with Iolethe.
"So!" Euclase said, waggling his eyebrows.
"Oh, give it a rest," I muttered gamely, reaching past him for a platter with smoked meats. "I know you have more interesting things to set your mind on than details of my experiences last night."
"Well, of course," he said, pouring me a glass of barely-fermented apple cider. "We need to talk about this party coming up. And besides, you and I were no strangers to aruna. I'm sure he'll treasure those memories for years to come."
I snorted. "I just do what comes naturally. Now have you gone through and catalogued our stores like I asked?"
"Yes, commandant," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
He'd taken to calling me that since we'd settled in up on the mountain. I found I didn't mind, even if he seemed a bit rankled or surprised by my behaviour. I saw it as common sense; winter had tentatively blustered in and out but would entrench itself for the season very soon and we needed to know what provisions we had. Plus, I'd been talking with Kyrgian, Iolethe and Vaysh, and we all assumed that other hara would find us, probably sooner than we expected. The likelihood of our stronghold becoming an outpost or even a small town wasn't at all improbable, especially if the Uigenna kept terrorising smaller clans. Just as Vaysh and his band had been drawn to us, surely others would do the same, pulled to our mountain haven by some harish instinct.
"Thank you," I said a bit curtly. "Where's Vaysh?"
Euclase shrugged, cutting a wedge of sharp cheese into smaller blocks. "Out taking a walk, maybe. Or sulking. Hard to say."
His challenging gaze flickered over to me, but I didn't rise to the bait. Instead, I made a noncommittal sound and got back to the meal at hand. I was famished; Parallax's former guardians had kindly left us a carafe of coffee and some sweet bread in the morning, but I'd been awake and energetically occupied most of the night.
After bundling up, I journeyed out to the stables and went for a ride around the perimeter trail I'd discovered. Willow seemed happy to be out for a long ride, and I treated her to a thorough rubdown and extra care once we returned at dusk. I was so absorbed in the tactile enjoyment of brushing her coat, humming to myself, that I started, turning quickly and brandishing the mitt I'd been using when I smelled cigarette smoke. It was Vaysh. The fact that he was smoking wasn't a good portend, as he didn't do it very often, usually only when he was in a particularly foul mood. He leaned against a nearby stall, silent and lovely, his expression inscrutable.
I looked at him, and I slowly relaxed after the burst of adrenaline of being caught by surprise. He was almost painful to gaze upon, his beauty and inner power pulsing around him like violet flames. Neither of us spoke; some primal magnetism hung in the fragrant air, and I felt both the inexorable attraction as well as a self-preserving caution to pull away. My horse whinnied softly; I felt myself pierced by a dart of self-knowledge. Vaysh was no paragon of hardom, but when it came to him, I could no longer deny that every cell in my body, the very marrow of my soul, rang with the forbidden word: mine.
Vaysh continued to appraise me before he strode over, dressed head to toe in mahogany leather, and offered me a cigarette. I took one and let him light it from the glowing end of his, a weirdly intimate act. I inhaled deeply and then turned my head out of courtesy so as not to exhale smoke into his face. I knew that he knew what word trembled in me. At last, with the kindness of an executioner, he relieved my agony.
Yours.
* * * * *
Winter ebbed into a lush spring. As though we had conjured them by our very planning, hara did arrive in twos or small groups, so that by the end of that first year we were nearly fifty hara strong. Some were Unneah, some of nameless origin as we had been, and even two bewitching marvels who had made their way from a great distance in the north, two misfits of the Coluraste tribe. We tended crops, took care of livestock brought into our fold from the endless scouting sojourns, made wine, tore down some of the human dwellings and let the forests take their claim. I did become commandant, in charge of ensuring every hara was armed and trained to fight and defend our home, while Kyrgian and Iolethe took upon themselves the mantle of spiritual guides.
So the months marched on, and I took on the role of proud mentor as Parallax shone in his martial and spiritual advancement. He and I took aruna together on occasion, as did Vaysh and Abelard. One memorable night while out on patrol, Vaysh, Parallax and I explored the myriad ways in which three hara could feast at the table of physical and spiritual delights. I couldn't bring myself to say the word aloud very often, as it had been ingrained in me that it was sacrilege, but my love for Vaysh deepened and expanded as the days went on. We were marked by it, though not to the naked eye; we were like trees, whose tale in rings is only truly told once cut down and exposed for the world to see.
At the time, I couldn't have known how apt and terrible that comparison would be.
As we approached Smoketide, Kyrgian, Vaysh and I sat at Crossview, gazing out at the sedate mountains. We drank wine and discussed the logistics of draining the indoor pool we'd been using all summer. Kyrgian went into a kind of trance, which didn't give me pause; it happened not infrequently. Vaysh and I refilled our cups, watching a hawk soar on the heated air currents wafting up from the valley floor, until Kyrgian rejoined us in spirit as well as body.
"They'll be here before dusk," he said, a youthful excitement in his voice I'd not heard in a long time.
"Who'll be here before dusk?" I asked.
"Our newest hara." His eyes gleamed as he held out his cup. Vaysh poured wine into it, glancing at me with a quizzical expression.
"Newest hara? Excuse me? If you knew new harafolk were coming, why didn't you tell me before now?" I asked, both baffled and frankly angered that I'd been kept in the dark. "That was irresponsible of you."
"We've been communicating for some time," he admitted, taking a deep draught.
"Why didn't you tell us? Are they in danger?" Vaysh asked, voicing my next sentiment.
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
"A surprise?!"
"Dammit Ashmael, quit repeating me," Kyrgian blustered, but his obvious enthusiasm temporarily triumphed over my ire.
"Well, don't you think maybe I should alert our guards at the gates, or have you instructed them to sneak in? It'd best not be the latter or you and I are going to have to have a serious talk about who has ultimate authority here." It was only Vaysh's calming touch on my leg that brought my hackles down.
"Let's put off the power plays to another time," Vaysh offered, evidently not wanting to have to be witness to a shouting match on what had been such a pleasant late summer afternoon.
"So now I know," I said, feeling my brows furrow. "They're obviously special if you've kept this secret for so long. I won't allow you to let me look like an idiot, so fill me in."
"They're just hara," Kyrgian started until I growled, low in my chest. "Oh Ashmael, it's fine. They're from the line of an ancient indigenous human tribe, but it's their third companion that is the most astonishing thing about them."
"Quit explaining with more riddles!" By now I was exasperated.
"It'll be clear shortly."
"Do they need special accommodations?" Vaysh asked, sparing Kyrgian from the invective-rich tongue-lashing I was about to serve up. I looked gratefully at him; he was as practical as I was, but far more innately diplomatic.
"No— they can stay in the guest quarters for a few days until they decide where in Castlegar to set up a more permanent residence." Kyrgian couldn't suppress the smile that was loath to leave his lips.
"For the record, I'm not happy about this, your keeping information from me," I stated, getting up from the wooden bench we'd made. It had replaced the rotted one that had been there when we arrived.
"Duly noted."
"I know my title is considered somewhat a joke, but I am essentially in charge of our growing town. I need to know about anything disruptive, especially if that knowledge is available in advance!"
"Go get cleaned up," Kyrgian said with a lighthearted wave of his hand. "No need for you to get your drawers in a twist."
"Don't be condescending!" I fumed. "I have every right to be pissed off at you."
"Kyrgian hasn't ever done anything to jeopardise us," Vaysh reminded me as he forcefully steered me away and to the path that led back to the heart of the grounds.
"It's the principle of the thing," I found myself muttering an hour later. I'd taken a shower and dressed in my most officious outfit, which looked much like the rest of my clothes worn at that time of year: brown leather pants, linen sleeveless tunic, leather braided armbands worn about the bicep, and my boots. It was really too hot for the leather, but I wanted to make an impression.
Vaysh came over, shaking his head in disbelief. "Let. It. Go," he said, kissing me in between words.
"But—"
He placed a nail, lacquered in darkest indigo, against my lips. "They're heading in from the gates."
"How do you know that?"
Vaysh tapped at his temple impatiently. "Kyrgian. Come on, let's go."
Curiosity overwhelmed my continued annoyance of being bossed around as though I were a child. We'd taken a residence in one of the buildings on the main quadrangle at the very heart of the former campus, and I heard a bell tolling, calling the hara who chose to eat communally to our evening meal. Some preferred to stay in their dwellings, especially those spread out further afield on the mountain, but hara tend to be social creatures. For the most part, we enjoyed each other's company, and those not out on patrol, or tending the vineyards, usually ate together. I stood out beside the main road, its asphalt beginning to crack as tendrils of grass teased through fissures granted by its lack of maintenance. Vaysh came to stand beside me, a decorative fan in his hand, creating a welcome slight breeze as he moved it through the air. I found my mind wandering: there were repairs in the stonework I wanted to have done to one of the small buildings being readied to house canned fruits and vegetables.
"I think I'll make an announcement at breakfast to find out if anyone in our ranks knows anything about masonry," I said. "If not, I'll need to conscript some volunteers to learn. Surely some har knows at least something about construction…"
My voice trailed off when I heard the sounds of horses' hooves clopping slowly on the road. Oddly enough, Kyrgian appeared to be riding one of the new hara's horses, one har was on the other horse, and another walked ahead of them, a shorter figure at his side who couldn't be an adult. Unless it was a diminutive human. Kyrgian hadn't said anything about that! When they were only a few hundred yards away, I realised why Kyrgian had kept this secret to himself; they were striking to behold, burnt sienna skin and hawk-like, regal noses, flowing black hair with braids and coloured beads. It was the smaller one that defied reason, and made the blood roar in my ears so that for a moment, all other sounds faded to silence. Time slowed to molasses speed as they drew up to us, and I saw with my own eyes a harchild. There could be no doubt of it; I couldn't explain how I knew it was so. Vaysh had been shocked into a similar, reverent torpor.
Coming to myself, realising I was staring and acting in a manner devoid of any decorum, I straightened up and looked at the two adult hara. "My name is Ashmael," I said, unseemly grateful that my voice hadn't cracked. "I serve as commandant of Castlegar, our town here on the mountain. Welcome."
Vaysh also introduced himself while the har on the horse dismounted to flank the harling whose age I couldn't begin to guess. All of their eyes were black, harbouring incomprehensible deeps of emotion and wisdom. I suffered the unpleasant sensation of feeling like a young child, yet again.
"I'm Firestorm," one said, beads of cerulean and onyx woven into his plaits and embroidered on his vest. "This is Cloudblaze. We are chesnari. And this is our son, Firethorn."
I swallowed thickly, startled at my sudden urge to fall to my knees, weeping at how perfect and astounding their son was. Firethorn, for his part, seemed to realise the distressing effect he had and it unsettled him. He evaluated Vaysh and myself before turning back to Cloudblaze to comment, "I'm really hungry."
"You're here just in time for dinner," Kyrgian reassured him, and the harling nodded solemnly. The youth tilted his head, his gaze going back and forth from me to Vaysh and back again.
"How did you change your hair colour?" he asked me, walking over to pull some gently into his palm.
"I didn't. I'm a natural blond."
"The hara here will look different, Thorn. We talked about that," his father said, chiding him.
But… weren't they both his fathers? My legs threatened to buckle as this exquisite proof of harish procreation looked down at the ground, chastened, before fixing his gaze back on my face.
"You are strong and beautiful," he said.
I didn't know how to respond, shocked as I was, but flattered nonetheless.
"Don't say things like that to him, it'll go to his head," Vaysh said, the smile infused in his voice.
"We have been isolated for many years," Cloudblaze said apologetically, shimmers of blackcurrant glinting in his hair as it caught light from the setting sun. "We speak plainly by nature."
"Not a problem," I said, battling to regain my composure. "If more of us did that, we'd be better off."
Firethorn caught my eye as Kyrgian suggested we get to the dining hall and make proper introductions. I raised my eyebrow in anticipation of another question from the harling. At last a smile settled on his lips, his face bright as sunrise. He was going to melt the hearts of no few hara. The repercussions of the arrival of these three into our midst were going to be far-reaching, that was indubitable.
"Will I meet your son at dinner?" Firethorn asked, idly playing with the redviolet beads in his braids.
"We don't have one," I said, and saw confusion in his dark eyes.
"Yet," Vaysh said warmly.
YET?! I shot back directly to his mind. We don't even know what it takes to make a harchild, or how rare it is!
The hara will tell us before the night's out, I'm sure of it.
"You're the first harchild I've seen," I said as we walked the short distance to the dining hall. I was content to let Kyrgian continue his introduction of our enclave to Cloudblaze and Firestorm, and they seemed equally at ease for Vaysh and myself to get to know their son. "Did your fathers tell you how special you are?"
"Firestorm is my father," he said emphatically. "And Cloudblaze is my hostling. But Firestorm could have a child, if he wanted to. I think Cloudblaze wants me to have a brother, and he thinks he's a better choice as a hostling than my father. He's stronger in spirit, he says, to carry a pearl."
So this was it. My mind reeled. It truly, emphatically sank in that already there was a generation — of one, at least — for whom the word mother was utterly meaningless.
"How old are you?" Vaysh asked as the new hara tethered their horses and we prepared to enter the bustle and clamour of an everyday meal. But today we would walk in with tangible, heart-bruising beauty; evidence that when there were no more human inceptions, our race would continue.
"I have five winters."
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand on the door. "You're only five?" I asked hoarsely. He appeared to be twice that.
"I think pureborns, or wholly hara, I don't know what to call him, other than dazzling," Vaysh said, running a finger across Firethorn's high cheekbone in a languorous caress, "they must mature far faster than human children."
My heart had leapt into my throat, but I opened the door. Firethorn had the sense to join his father and hostling, his fingers interlaced with those of Cloudblaze for support, no doubt. Though it felt like weakness, I did the same, taking Vaysh's hand. When he squeezed my fingers, however, it transformed into strength.
Title: Maelstrom and Mage, Desire Thine Darkling
Rating: this post definitely adult
Warnings: slash, WIP, introspective Ashmael
Word Count: 5,677
Disclaimer: Ashmael, Vaysh, and the harish world all belong to Storm Constantine; I'm merely playing with great abandon in her sandbox.
Pairings: Vaysh/Ashmael
Summary: Genesis. Paradise. Illumination. Exodous. Before they went to Immanion, before Thiede manipulated their destiny, before death and despair, Ashmael and Vaysh knew and loved each other. This is one way their story may have been told.
Paul's change took more out of him than Jared; given his anger and perhaps false bravado, he wasn't able to stand on his own or clean himself for several days once his althaia had run its course. Jared had already taken a harish name, Gladwyne, and begun learning of his new race (and the delights to be found in his newly-modified body) with Wycker. Jaffa also spent a lot of time with him, as they were closest in age. And Jaffa was drawn to novelty, as a newly incepted har certainly was. Maybe Gladwyne's pull to Wycker had brought Jaffa back in harmony with his brother. Wycker and Jaffa were enough alike to be thick as thieves, especially in times of danger. Not infrequently, however, they sniped and were at each other's throats.
Apparently I'd made an impression on Paul as he did ask for me to come and complete the pact he'd been forced to sign with Wraeththu. Polaris had sidled over to me during dinner, squeezing Vaysh over on the bench so he could speak low in my ear. I'd felt Paul's eyes on me through the meal, his first with us as a group. His gaze had felt like burning coals, stirring embers of intrigue in my loins.
"Paul's well enough now, and his body's going berserk. You remember what it's like," Polaris said softly, though doubtless everyhar at the table knew why he'd undertaken his mission to talk to me. We lived rather in a communal fishbowl, none of us taking residence too far away from the centre structures of Castlegar. There were also no secrets, and relatively little privacy, which was beginning to gnaw at me.
"I didn't have the best first aruna experience," I said candidly, using my dinner roll to sop of the last of a tasty venison stew Vox and Jaffa had created. "More along the 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am' variety. I'll make sure Paul's is more memorable. In a good way," I felt the need to clarify.
"Of course," Polaris said, the words dripping with innuendo before his face took on a more sombre expression. "You will treat him well? I've become quite fond of him. And he's a stunning har. Who'd've thought under all that vitriol and filthy mouth would be such raw beauty?"
Vaysh turned and gave the new har a look under which anyone else, even myself, would have withered and turned to a pile of ash. Paul took a long drink of wine but held Vaysh's gaze, challenging him unflinchingly. Though I didn't let it show, my soume aspect kicked into high gear for a moment— I swooned at the ferocity etched in Paul's face.
"Vaysh incepted him," I said, stabbing at some chunks of potato still in my bowl. "Are you sure he doesn't want him? You have my word Paul won't be disappointed."
Vaysh growled low in his throat, then composed himself as though this were perfectly normal dinner conversation.
"I might get carried away with one that feisty," he said, angling his head to speak to us in conspiratorial tones. It also allowed him to show off the bruised blossoms of my enthusiastic kisses on his neck from the night before. "He should only be broken in, not broken, full stop."
"Enough," I said, my brow furrowing even though I knew, or really hoped, it was all in jest.
Polaris clearly reveled in our banter; a born gossip, thankfully his fists were as fast and lethal as his tongue. "He's been staying with us, but Vox got him set up in his own room. On the second floor."
I nodded. They lived in a large residence in the heart of the grounds, a home the size of an inn and structurally sound. Anything of value had been stolen ages ago, and there were shadowy marks on the walls where pictures had hung for a few decades according to the histories I'd read.
"I could keep you company, Vaysh," Polaris offered, genuine warmth in his voice. "I just happen to have an unopened bottle of bourbon that I found during my last scouting mission. That and some cards and my charming self? You'd be a fool to say no."
My heart swelled at his hopeful earnestness. Our two groups had merged near-seamlessly once we'd settled on the mountain, and everybody adored Vaysh in their own way.
"Bourbon?" Vaysh's head snapped to Polaris, eyes twinkling. "You're a rogue for not telling me until now. Come to our room later. The door will be open." A sly smile slid onto his lips.
"I guess I'll be going," I said to nohar in particular, and there was no answer. I did feel the scrutiny of several pair of eyes as I left the dining hall and found that I stood up straighter under their pressure. Back in the suite of rooms I shared with Vaysh, I took my time engaging in some perfunctory primping; knowing Vox and Jaffa, who'd been close as shadows to Paul during the meal, they'd try and turn him into some prettified manwoman. I suspected that at first, until he learned to understand his feminine aspects, Paul would shun his less familiar side. I'd be the first to teach him, through lessons of transcendent pleasure — I hoped! — to welcome and embrace that unknown, secretive and strong part of himself. Soume. To be honest, it still intimidated and perplexed me at times.
It was bracingly cold; I was glad I didn't have to walk far to get to the building I thought of as 'the chancellery,' as the chancellors of the school had lived there in the past. My pulse quickened once I was inside and could take off my gloves, warming my hands over a merry fire down in the main foyer. Somehar had also thoughtfully placed a decanter of some liquor on a side table, though I wasn't sure what it was. It seemed like a mix of vralsfire infused with cinnamon, and I poured two glasses, taking them upstairs.
Paul's room wasn't hard to find, a band of light cheerily escaping into the corridor and beckoning me in to behold the treasure hidden within. Since my hands were full, I nudged open the door and found myself engulfed in the scent of spruce and sandalwood. Paul was pacing, but stopped when he heard me enter. I placed the glasses on a dresser and shut the door behind me, leaning on it for stability. Whatever Jaffa and Vox had done to him was subtle, bringing out the stark beauty that had been formerly hidden under his arrogant façade. I couldn't help but stare, devouring him with my gaze, suddenly irritated when a feeling of guilt flitted in my chest. Taking aruna after inception was a necessary act, and besides— it was integral to our being, like eating or breathing. Jealousy and the idea of possession was a human trait. Though I strove to cast such things off, back then, they continued to mark me like the whorls on my fingers.
"What are you thinking?" he asked hesitantly, striding over to pick up one of the glasses of amber liquid. "One of these is for me, right?"
"Yes, sorry."
I didn't know if my apology was for not offering it to him, or for my regressive thoughts. "I was thinking about how attractive you are."
This was no fiction. His hair was a rich chestnut, wavy and hanging around his face. His hazel eyes as he evaluated me, tended toward a tawny gold, though I well imagined they would seem to change colour depending on the light or his mood. Paul's face transformed at my words; timidity and uncertainty fled, replaced by a sultry stare.
"So you don't mind, then?"
He drank the entirety of his liqueur and ran the back of his hand against his lips. It was such an unassuming gesture, I felt my reserve give way. His lips weren't particularly lush; in truth, his more soume aspects were elusive.
"No. I hope I don't disappoint," I said, putting down my glass to walk over to him. I rested one hand at the base of his spine, the other cradling the back of his head.
He made a dismissive sound.
"Impossible."
Paul moved against me, wrapping his arm about my waist, swaying his hips slightly. I felt a noticeable hardness pressing into my thigh. This was going to be interesting.
"Breathe into me," he commanded softly. "Don't hold back tonight, not with anything." His gaze was molten, ferocity gleaming in his eyes.
"You seem to have taken this well," I said, my lips hovering over his as he let out hot puffs of air. "Not going to surprise me by kneeing me in the balls and running off, are you?"
Paul leaned back just a bit, licking at the corner of his lips where a sticky moisture from the drink still remained. Desire and physical want radiated from him. I knew that feeling, of being parched and needy, desperate for the renewal only another har's touch could bring.
"No." A sheepish look crossed his face. "I'm glad I still have my own balls, to be honest. You were a damn bastard, you know," he said, beginning to grind against me with more intention. "You didn't say a word about the fact that all of our changes would be sexual."
"Because they're not!" I insisted, leaning in to share breath with him, but he evaded my lips to get out another confession.
"I've had my hand in my pants. A lot. The new parts— they kind of creep me out, so I need you to make it right. I know you can, that's why I picked you. You're strong and you act like a man. You seem safe to me."
"Let's go lie down on your bed," I said and Paul nodded. My ouana-lim was beginning to press insistently against my own trousers, but I felt I owed him a short explanation and clarification before I ravaged him. No doubt he'd heard plenty from everyhar else, but I was with him now.
I took the liberty of tossing another couple of logs on the fire before joining him. I also took off my sweater, shirt and boots, and forced him to keep my gaze while with unhurried hands, I unbuttoned his shirt. Skin on skin was sublime. It took all of my willpower not to shove down our trousers and swallow his stiff length and make him writhe in pleasure. A quick — very quick — overview of being a hermaphrodite, and then I would tease to life the pleasures inside of him he formerly never could have imagined.
"Like all hara, I'm male and female, though I know I don't express my feminine as blatantly as some. Having both genders is our gift, one of them," I said, kneading at the narrow flesh of his backside. Paul and Gladwyne both could stand to put meat on their newly harish bones.
"I know. I just didn't…" his voice trailed off, and he buried his face in my neck. "I've been stuck in my head, analysing things, and feeling myself up. I'm tired of both," he said impatiently, pressing faint, chaste kisses on my skin.
I felt another embarrassing swoon coming on.
"Share breath with me," Paul said, his voice raspy, all but begging. "I'm ready to really be one of you."
"You already are."
Deep and expansive, we shared breath, images and rising winds of desire flowing back and forth. Our tongues danced and teased; I savoured sparkling summer starlight and the flavour of tart apples, Paul's warm taste. When his fingers became grasping talons, I broke away and we finished undressing. He'd been bountifully endowed in the ouana-lim realm, and felt my body warring with its two polarities. I had to penetrate him, that was the way our bodies shuddered and threw off the last vestige of being human. We might contain both sexes, but right then I wanted nothing more than us both to be ouana, to cross swords and spill our delights on each other. What if that only made his body more crazed?
"Ashmael," Paul said, his voice demanding. He turned so he lay on his back, his kiss-swollen lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded as they'd been the afternoon Vaysh had incepted him. He tugged me on top of him, pulling me down and intermingling our hands in a tight grip. Velvet over steel, soft petals opened as we rubbed together, slick with opalescent offerings. I sighed and growled, rutting against him, not heeding how thin and wiry he was. My own passions had become like a wild horse, bucking and running amok. This wasn't for me, however, the focus was on Paul. I eased out of his grip, mapping the cartography of his bony torso with kisses.
He groaned and uttered other, less-defined noises, sounding like a wounded creature. I pushed him up the bed and lay on my stomach, ignoring for now the shimmering pearl of his ouana-lim and instead trying something whose inspiration had come just moments before: I licked and drank, teasing forth the honey-lemon nectar from his soume-lam. Paul's moans softened to surprised gasps and trills of pleasure. When my tongue and jaw began to ache, I sat back and noticed his body had responded to my ministrations.
Taking aruna with Paul that first time, I was a long spade, digging deeply into warm, loamy earth. He kept his eyes open, unable or unwilling not to keep my expressions in his sights. With each thrust I planted my own strength and hope for harakind into him; he seemed like the embodiment of a comet, a constellation of light fallen to earth.
He chanted a steady stream of monosyllabic profanity as our energies neared completion. "Don't hold back," I panted, tossing back his earlier comment as I sensed the interweaving of our release.
With him, our energies were tightly wound, like a compressed double helix that spun explosively apart as he shouted into the room. Lights danced behind my eyes as the last of our exultant energies flew far off out into the fathomless universe. Eventually the subtle noises of the room faded back into my consciousness and we uncoupled. I lay back down at Paul's side where he looked at me, his cheeks flushed and his eyes full of wonderment. Long, companionable moments went by.
Licking at his dry lips, eventually he said in a hoarse voice, "You didn't say anything about that, either."
"Did so. I said there was a reward, didn't I?"
His attempt at a disdainful look largely failed. "Reward doesn't cover how amazing that felt."
I smiled and began to hold him to me but he made an embarrassed noise. "Um, think I should go to the bathroom or something. I'm… well… leaking."
I cringed inwardly for him, but gave him a reassuring smile. He returned minutes later and at last I was able to feel his warm body splayed next to mine again. We spoke for a while before the warmth and exertion caught up to me and I started to drift off.
"I know my name," he said thoughtfully, and I opened my eyes.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, but I'm not telling until the morning."
"Fair enough. Now rest up a bit, because there's more to this experience. The night is quite young," I said, attempting a feral smile.
Later, in the heart of the night, I became soume for him, and was unsurprised at his ferocity. Were I not as well muscled as I was, no doubt I'd have returned to Vaysh with bruises on my shoulders from where Paul had gripped me. As it was, we rejoined our group at lunch the next day to catcalls and leering comments made in jest. I shrugged them off, casting my gaze around for Vaysh, but he wasn't there. Disquiet rumbled in my chest, but I forced myself to ignore it, instead acting like the leader I was being groomed to be.
"Fellow companions of Castlegar," I announced, "I present to you Parallax, our newest har. Proper celebrations and caste ascensions will be held at the feast of the solstice, twelve days from now."
Jaffa and Vox waved Parallax over, and after a longing, heated gaze up into my eyes, he walked over and joined them. I sat near Euclase and Kyrgian, who was, as usual, engrossed in a conversation with Iolethe.
"So!" Euclase said, waggling his eyebrows.
"Oh, give it a rest," I muttered gamely, reaching past him for a platter with smoked meats. "I know you have more interesting things to set your mind on than details of my experiences last night."
"Well, of course," he said, pouring me a glass of barely-fermented apple cider. "We need to talk about this party coming up. And besides, you and I were no strangers to aruna. I'm sure he'll treasure those memories for years to come."
I snorted. "I just do what comes naturally. Now have you gone through and catalogued our stores like I asked?"
"Yes, commandant," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
He'd taken to calling me that since we'd settled in up on the mountain. I found I didn't mind, even if he seemed a bit rankled or surprised by my behaviour. I saw it as common sense; winter had tentatively blustered in and out but would entrench itself for the season very soon and we needed to know what provisions we had. Plus, I'd been talking with Kyrgian, Iolethe and Vaysh, and we all assumed that other hara would find us, probably sooner than we expected. The likelihood of our stronghold becoming an outpost or even a small town wasn't at all improbable, especially if the Uigenna kept terrorising smaller clans. Just as Vaysh and his band had been drawn to us, surely others would do the same, pulled to our mountain haven by some harish instinct.
"Thank you," I said a bit curtly. "Where's Vaysh?"
Euclase shrugged, cutting a wedge of sharp cheese into smaller blocks. "Out taking a walk, maybe. Or sulking. Hard to say."
His challenging gaze flickered over to me, but I didn't rise to the bait. Instead, I made a noncommittal sound and got back to the meal at hand. I was famished; Parallax's former guardians had kindly left us a carafe of coffee and some sweet bread in the morning, but I'd been awake and energetically occupied most of the night.
After bundling up, I journeyed out to the stables and went for a ride around the perimeter trail I'd discovered. Willow seemed happy to be out for a long ride, and I treated her to a thorough rubdown and extra care once we returned at dusk. I was so absorbed in the tactile enjoyment of brushing her coat, humming to myself, that I started, turning quickly and brandishing the mitt I'd been using when I smelled cigarette smoke. It was Vaysh. The fact that he was smoking wasn't a good portend, as he didn't do it very often, usually only when he was in a particularly foul mood. He leaned against a nearby stall, silent and lovely, his expression inscrutable.
I looked at him, and I slowly relaxed after the burst of adrenaline of being caught by surprise. He was almost painful to gaze upon, his beauty and inner power pulsing around him like violet flames. Neither of us spoke; some primal magnetism hung in the fragrant air, and I felt both the inexorable attraction as well as a self-preserving caution to pull away. My horse whinnied softly; I felt myself pierced by a dart of self-knowledge. Vaysh was no paragon of hardom, but when it came to him, I could no longer deny that every cell in my body, the very marrow of my soul, rang with the forbidden word: mine.
Vaysh continued to appraise me before he strode over, dressed head to toe in mahogany leather, and offered me a cigarette. I took one and let him light it from the glowing end of his, a weirdly intimate act. I inhaled deeply and then turned my head out of courtesy so as not to exhale smoke into his face. I knew that he knew what word trembled in me. At last, with the kindness of an executioner, he relieved my agony.
Yours.
* * * * *
Winter ebbed into a lush spring. As though we had conjured them by our very planning, hara did arrive in twos or small groups, so that by the end of that first year we were nearly fifty hara strong. Some were Unneah, some of nameless origin as we had been, and even two bewitching marvels who had made their way from a great distance in the north, two misfits of the Coluraste tribe. We tended crops, took care of livestock brought into our fold from the endless scouting sojourns, made wine, tore down some of the human dwellings and let the forests take their claim. I did become commandant, in charge of ensuring every hara was armed and trained to fight and defend our home, while Kyrgian and Iolethe took upon themselves the mantle of spiritual guides.
So the months marched on, and I took on the role of proud mentor as Parallax shone in his martial and spiritual advancement. He and I took aruna together on occasion, as did Vaysh and Abelard. One memorable night while out on patrol, Vaysh, Parallax and I explored the myriad ways in which three hara could feast at the table of physical and spiritual delights. I couldn't bring myself to say the word aloud very often, as it had been ingrained in me that it was sacrilege, but my love for Vaysh deepened and expanded as the days went on. We were marked by it, though not to the naked eye; we were like trees, whose tale in rings is only truly told once cut down and exposed for the world to see.
At the time, I couldn't have known how apt and terrible that comparison would be.
As we approached Smoketide, Kyrgian, Vaysh and I sat at Crossview, gazing out at the sedate mountains. We drank wine and discussed the logistics of draining the indoor pool we'd been using all summer. Kyrgian went into a kind of trance, which didn't give me pause; it happened not infrequently. Vaysh and I refilled our cups, watching a hawk soar on the heated air currents wafting up from the valley floor, until Kyrgian rejoined us in spirit as well as body.
"They'll be here before dusk," he said, a youthful excitement in his voice I'd not heard in a long time.
"Who'll be here before dusk?" I asked.
"Our newest hara." His eyes gleamed as he held out his cup. Vaysh poured wine into it, glancing at me with a quizzical expression.
"Newest hara? Excuse me? If you knew new harafolk were coming, why didn't you tell me before now?" I asked, both baffled and frankly angered that I'd been kept in the dark. "That was irresponsible of you."
"We've been communicating for some time," he admitted, taking a deep draught.
"Why didn't you tell us? Are they in danger?" Vaysh asked, voicing my next sentiment.
"I wanted it to be a surprise."
"A surprise?!"
"Dammit Ashmael, quit repeating me," Kyrgian blustered, but his obvious enthusiasm temporarily triumphed over my ire.
"Well, don't you think maybe I should alert our guards at the gates, or have you instructed them to sneak in? It'd best not be the latter or you and I are going to have to have a serious talk about who has ultimate authority here." It was only Vaysh's calming touch on my leg that brought my hackles down.
"Let's put off the power plays to another time," Vaysh offered, evidently not wanting to have to be witness to a shouting match on what had been such a pleasant late summer afternoon.
"So now I know," I said, feeling my brows furrow. "They're obviously special if you've kept this secret for so long. I won't allow you to let me look like an idiot, so fill me in."
"They're just hara," Kyrgian started until I growled, low in my chest. "Oh Ashmael, it's fine. They're from the line of an ancient indigenous human tribe, but it's their third companion that is the most astonishing thing about them."
"Quit explaining with more riddles!" By now I was exasperated.
"It'll be clear shortly."
"Do they need special accommodations?" Vaysh asked, sparing Kyrgian from the invective-rich tongue-lashing I was about to serve up. I looked gratefully at him; he was as practical as I was, but far more innately diplomatic.
"No— they can stay in the guest quarters for a few days until they decide where in Castlegar to set up a more permanent residence." Kyrgian couldn't suppress the smile that was loath to leave his lips.
"For the record, I'm not happy about this, your keeping information from me," I stated, getting up from the wooden bench we'd made. It had replaced the rotted one that had been there when we arrived.
"Duly noted."
"I know my title is considered somewhat a joke, but I am essentially in charge of our growing town. I need to know about anything disruptive, especially if that knowledge is available in advance!"
"Go get cleaned up," Kyrgian said with a lighthearted wave of his hand. "No need for you to get your drawers in a twist."
"Don't be condescending!" I fumed. "I have every right to be pissed off at you."
"Kyrgian hasn't ever done anything to jeopardise us," Vaysh reminded me as he forcefully steered me away and to the path that led back to the heart of the grounds.
"It's the principle of the thing," I found myself muttering an hour later. I'd taken a shower and dressed in my most officious outfit, which looked much like the rest of my clothes worn at that time of year: brown leather pants, linen sleeveless tunic, leather braided armbands worn about the bicep, and my boots. It was really too hot for the leather, but I wanted to make an impression.
Vaysh came over, shaking his head in disbelief. "Let. It. Go," he said, kissing me in between words.
"But—"
He placed a nail, lacquered in darkest indigo, against my lips. "They're heading in from the gates."
"How do you know that?"
Vaysh tapped at his temple impatiently. "Kyrgian. Come on, let's go."
Curiosity overwhelmed my continued annoyance of being bossed around as though I were a child. We'd taken a residence in one of the buildings on the main quadrangle at the very heart of the former campus, and I heard a bell tolling, calling the hara who chose to eat communally to our evening meal. Some preferred to stay in their dwellings, especially those spread out further afield on the mountain, but hara tend to be social creatures. For the most part, we enjoyed each other's company, and those not out on patrol, or tending the vineyards, usually ate together. I stood out beside the main road, its asphalt beginning to crack as tendrils of grass teased through fissures granted by its lack of maintenance. Vaysh came to stand beside me, a decorative fan in his hand, creating a welcome slight breeze as he moved it through the air. I found my mind wandering: there were repairs in the stonework I wanted to have done to one of the small buildings being readied to house canned fruits and vegetables.
"I think I'll make an announcement at breakfast to find out if anyone in our ranks knows anything about masonry," I said. "If not, I'll need to conscript some volunteers to learn. Surely some har knows at least something about construction…"
My voice trailed off when I heard the sounds of horses' hooves clopping slowly on the road. Oddly enough, Kyrgian appeared to be riding one of the new hara's horses, one har was on the other horse, and another walked ahead of them, a shorter figure at his side who couldn't be an adult. Unless it was a diminutive human. Kyrgian hadn't said anything about that! When they were only a few hundred yards away, I realised why Kyrgian had kept this secret to himself; they were striking to behold, burnt sienna skin and hawk-like, regal noses, flowing black hair with braids and coloured beads. It was the smaller one that defied reason, and made the blood roar in my ears so that for a moment, all other sounds faded to silence. Time slowed to molasses speed as they drew up to us, and I saw with my own eyes a harchild. There could be no doubt of it; I couldn't explain how I knew it was so. Vaysh had been shocked into a similar, reverent torpor.
Coming to myself, realising I was staring and acting in a manner devoid of any decorum, I straightened up and looked at the two adult hara. "My name is Ashmael," I said, unseemly grateful that my voice hadn't cracked. "I serve as commandant of Castlegar, our town here on the mountain. Welcome."
Vaysh also introduced himself while the har on the horse dismounted to flank the harling whose age I couldn't begin to guess. All of their eyes were black, harbouring incomprehensible deeps of emotion and wisdom. I suffered the unpleasant sensation of feeling like a young child, yet again.
"I'm Firestorm," one said, beads of cerulean and onyx woven into his plaits and embroidered on his vest. "This is Cloudblaze. We are chesnari. And this is our son, Firethorn."
I swallowed thickly, startled at my sudden urge to fall to my knees, weeping at how perfect and astounding their son was. Firethorn, for his part, seemed to realise the distressing effect he had and it unsettled him. He evaluated Vaysh and myself before turning back to Cloudblaze to comment, "I'm really hungry."
"You're here just in time for dinner," Kyrgian reassured him, and the harling nodded solemnly. The youth tilted his head, his gaze going back and forth from me to Vaysh and back again.
"How did you change your hair colour?" he asked me, walking over to pull some gently into his palm.
"I didn't. I'm a natural blond."
"The hara here will look different, Thorn. We talked about that," his father said, chiding him.
But… weren't they both his fathers? My legs threatened to buckle as this exquisite proof of harish procreation looked down at the ground, chastened, before fixing his gaze back on my face.
"You are strong and beautiful," he said.
I didn't know how to respond, shocked as I was, but flattered nonetheless.
"Don't say things like that to him, it'll go to his head," Vaysh said, the smile infused in his voice.
"We have been isolated for many years," Cloudblaze said apologetically, shimmers of blackcurrant glinting in his hair as it caught light from the setting sun. "We speak plainly by nature."
"Not a problem," I said, battling to regain my composure. "If more of us did that, we'd be better off."
Firethorn caught my eye as Kyrgian suggested we get to the dining hall and make proper introductions. I raised my eyebrow in anticipation of another question from the harling. At last a smile settled on his lips, his face bright as sunrise. He was going to melt the hearts of no few hara. The repercussions of the arrival of these three into our midst were going to be far-reaching, that was indubitable.
"Will I meet your son at dinner?" Firethorn asked, idly playing with the redviolet beads in his braids.
"We don't have one," I said, and saw confusion in his dark eyes.
"Yet," Vaysh said warmly.
YET?! I shot back directly to his mind. We don't even know what it takes to make a harchild, or how rare it is!
The hara will tell us before the night's out, I'm sure of it.
"You're the first harchild I've seen," I said as we walked the short distance to the dining hall. I was content to let Kyrgian continue his introduction of our enclave to Cloudblaze and Firestorm, and they seemed equally at ease for Vaysh and myself to get to know their son. "Did your fathers tell you how special you are?"
"Firestorm is my father," he said emphatically. "And Cloudblaze is my hostling. But Firestorm could have a child, if he wanted to. I think Cloudblaze wants me to have a brother, and he thinks he's a better choice as a hostling than my father. He's stronger in spirit, he says, to carry a pearl."
So this was it. My mind reeled. It truly, emphatically sank in that already there was a generation — of one, at least — for whom the word mother was utterly meaningless.
"How old are you?" Vaysh asked as the new hara tethered their horses and we prepared to enter the bustle and clamour of an everyday meal. But today we would walk in with tangible, heart-bruising beauty; evidence that when there were no more human inceptions, our race would continue.
"I have five winters."
I stopped dead in my tracks, my hand on the door. "You're only five?" I asked hoarsely. He appeared to be twice that.
"I think pureborns, or wholly hara, I don't know what to call him, other than dazzling," Vaysh said, running a finger across Firethorn's high cheekbone in a languorous caress, "they must mature far faster than human children."
My heart had leapt into my throat, but I opened the door. Firethorn had the sense to join his father and hostling, his fingers interlaced with those of Cloudblaze for support, no doubt. Though it felt like weakness, I did the same, taking Vaysh's hand. When he squeezed my fingers, however, it transformed into strength.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-14 06:44 am (UTC)I like the foreshadowing of the love "problem" as Vaysh experiences jealousy when Ash takes aruna with Parallax (great name) and I like how you show that subtly with small gestures, cigarette smoke. And Ash's gradual realization that they are in love.
"when it came to him, I could no longer deny that every cell in my body, the very marrow of my soul, rang with the forbidden word: mine."
"We were marked by it, though not to the naked eye; we were like trees, whose tale in rings is only truly told once cut down and exposed for the world to see."
I love the tree ring idea. Great stuff.
I also like the sense of a bunch of guys at a fraternity with the catcalls and waggling eyebrows.
But you know the whole story took on a more intense feel when Firestorm and Cloudblaze show up with their harling. Your depiction of Firethorn, with his direct language is great. I love how entranced both Ash and Vaysh are with him and how we get the sense that they are very drawn to becoming chesna themselves and taking that next step of creating life. I also like the sense of humor in places. You are definitely incorporating Storm's world and transforming it into your own creation. I look forward to more.
Oh and here are some more phrases that I particularly enjoyed:
Anything of value had been stolen ages ago, and there were shadowy marks on the walls where pictures had hung for a few decades according to the histories I'd read.
I did feel the scrutiny of several pair of eyes as I left the dining hall and found that I stood up straighter under their pressure.
he evaded my lips to get out another confession
The new parts— they kind of creep me out,
"I've been stuck in my head, analysing things, and feeling myself up. I'm tired of both,
When his fingers became grasping talons,
but right then I wanted nothing more than us both to be ouana,
I was a long spade, digging deeply into warm, loamy earth.
Lights danced behind my eyes as the last of our exultant energies flew far off out into the fathomless universe.
Eventually the subtle noises of the room faded back into my consciousness
"So!" Euclase said, waggling his eyebrows."Oh, give it a rest,"
energetically occupied
his beauty and inner power pulsing around him like violet flames.
discussed the logistics of draining the indoor pool we'd been using all summer
Vaysh tapped at his temple impatiently.
sank in that already there was a generation — of one, at least — for whom the word mother was utterly meaningless.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-15 01:43 am (UTC)I'm so glad about a couple of particular phrases and notions to this chapter you pointed out here: I was especially pleased with the tree ring imagery, and the fact that you only see them once you've cut the tree down- I'd hoped that the referencing to this being the past, and still referencing the future (which Storm does a lot in book one, well, all through the first trilogy) came across as not being annoying.
And the trio of Chickasaw- Cloudblaze, the berdache (which I'd hoped somebody would pick up on!), Firestorm and Firethorn. How I adore them. I have a smidgen of Cherokee in my makeup, and hoped that some discerning soul would find it appropriate (as I did!) that it would be Native American hara would first had the spiritual wherewithal to create harish life. No-one has said anything outright, but you'd better believe I did that on purpose! ;)
It's so generous of you to quote phrases back to me, chapter after chapter; I'm just so incredibly gratified that you let me know which ones stand out. I was also proud of the spade and earth imagery for aruna. It gets a bit rough as a slash writer, not being able to talk about their cocks, y'know?!
I love Parallax's name; stumbled across it in the dictionary while looking for another word before I really knew what kind of prominence he'd have, and all of a sudden he came into his own.
Thank you, thank you. I also devoured your Ossë's Gift last night; will have much to tell you about that that I ate up with a spoon. You inspired me in regards to my upcoming HP fic, in fact!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-15 07:09 am (UTC)Yep, those Wraeththu organs are definitely a challenge.
Cheers