Maelstrom and Mage, Ashmael/Vaysh, Post 9
Mar. 2nd, 2008 08:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneSpring comes to Castlegar, reluctantly; Vaysh and Ashmael make their initial trip to see the first beginnings of Immanion and have their first experiences on the sedim. Add in a cameo by Velaxis, and, well, read on! Continued from post 8, here.
Title: Maelstrom and Mage, Desire Thine Darkling
This post rating: adult
Warnings: rooning, ever-more-blatant Thiede, Arahal in turquoise leather
Word Count: 5,458
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. Exodus. 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.
thanks especially to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
callumjames for pointing out I'd been misspelling the word 'Exodus.' (facepalm)
"Ashmael? Come here! He's standing up— and walking! Kinda!" Firethorn said, his voice elated and incredulous.
I got up from my desk where I'd been documenting the arrival of another pair of hara, these from the northwest of us, and hurried into the living room. Firethorn and Vaysh were both making a flood of encouraging noises as the harling, sure enough, grasped hold of a chair leg. He stood, wobbling at the knees before bouncing a bit, and took a few shaky steps. He grinned widely, then fell flat on his behind. The tot's expression of joy transformed to shock and then his face reddened as he began to wail.
"Oh Lemmy, it's okay, don't cry," Firethorn said, scooping him up in his arms and rubbing his back. Vaysh cooed comfortingly to him as well while Firethorn paced a few steps back and forth, quieting down the harling.
"It's amazing how fast he's growing," Vaysh said, coming over to stand at my side.
"I'll say."
Lemuel was only a few weeks old. He'd eaten regular food almost since birth, though it had been served in a mash until his teeth began to come in. He had a cherubic, laughing face most of the time, and a sweet temperament. His curly black hair seemed to have a mind of its own, though this, too, was hardly unexpected since his sirelings also shared that disconcerting trait.
"Don't forget, we're keeping him tonight," Vaysh reminded me.
"He could stay with us," Firethorn said hopefully before nuzzling his face into the waving curls that fell from Lemuel's head. "Father and Blaze won't mind."
"Yes, but Vaysh will," I retorted. "I'm going to make us some dinner. Firethorn, are you staying?"
"No." His voice was glum. "Mabast's given me reading to do and we're meeting tomorrow morning. Thanks, though."
He passed the harling into Vaysh's awaiting arms. The infant promptly grabbed a fat fistful of Vaysh's hair and started chewing on it.
"Careful, or you'll spoil your appetite!" I said to the child, who looked at me through vast, light blue eyes and kept gnawing on the clump of red hair. "Fine. Don't listen."
Firethorn came through the kitchen a few moments later on his way out, bundled in a fur vest and overcoat to protect against the lingering winter chill. He picked up a piece of pickled beetroot and popped it into his mouth, his fingertips stained purple.
"When do they get back from their retreat?" he asked, wiping his fingers on a damp cloth.
"Tomorrow."
"What are they doing?"
"To tell the truth, I don't really know."
I continued chopping up lettuce, more of the hydroponic and magical genius coming from the greenhouse now mostly in Firethorn's care. Since Natalia, Jaffa had been spending much of his free time with Euclase. Fortunately this had coincided with the delivery of Ahalenia's pearl and the harling's birth into the world a few days following. Firethorn had been nearly inseparable from little Lemuel, and the Colurastes didn't seem to mind.
"I didn't think I needed to pry," I continued. "Their tribe has its own rituals, but I get the feeling that Eleu and Ahalenia were never average Colurastes, hence why they left. Or were exiled. I've never asked."
"Hmmmm."
Firethorn gazed speculatively at the salad I assembled, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere. He'd grown a few inches since his arrival last autumn; thankfully he didn't yet seem to be suffering any awkwardness or inexplicable brooding that would indicate the onset of adolescence.
"I'm going to plan an herb garden in the summer," he proclaimed, watching as I put water on to boil on our hybrid stove that ran on a generator.
"A good plan."
"I'll teach Lemmy everything I know. And maybe," he said slyly, looking at me with an arresting lack of innocence given his age, "maybe there'll be another harling by then, too."
I just gazed at him. "Maybe so. Honestly, I don't think we'll ever have very many. It's not like before, with humans, who could get pregnant by accident, just like that."
The befuddled expression on his face was priceless.
"Ask Mabast. He was human, too, back in the dark ages. Actually, I hope that once it's spring and we start scouting again that we'll find some human enclaves with young men who can be incepted. Not that harlings aren't superior, but until we know a lot more about our race and what's really required, flowery phrases notwithstanding, to create harish life, I don't foresee Castlegar having lots of doting parents."
"I'm glad I'm not the only pure-born anymore," he said his long brown fingers deftly plaiting a new braid from the nape of his neck.
"I thought you'd gotten used to being a celebrity!"
Firethorn pursed his lips. "I should go. I need to ask some questions to my akuchi."
"Your what?" I measured out some rice, poured it into the boiling water and placed a lid on the pot.
"Cards. Blaze and Opequon see things in dreams, but I don't. If I have questions that other people can't answer, or don't want to, I sit and think on it and ask the akuchi."
"Fascinating. Maybe you'll show me sometime?"
He nodded. "Sure. Well, I'd really better go." His mood seemed back to its usual upbeat keel. "See you! Bye Vaysh!" he called.
"Bye, Firethorn!"
We spent a comfortably domestic evening, the harling holding us both in his sway as only a child can. Vaysh put Lemuel to bed in the makeshift crib we'd fashioned for him, spending quite a bit of time reading stories and even singing a soft lullaby. I sat in my study with a decanter of vralsfire, poring over a map of southern Megalithica and beyond. Ondin, Opequon and Wyngarr had declared their intentions to go on another extended mapping and scouting mission at the first signs of spring. Belvac and Abelard voiced their plans to join them. I wasn't surprised; their thinly veiled comments about needing to get away from the rumour mill and potential turf wars had become more strident since Thiede and Arahal's Natalia visit. It all meant that many of those I knew the best and were our strongest hara in both brawn and intellect would be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. It made me uneasy, which led me to the realisation that I needed to re-evaluate the roles of all of the hara in our community.
"You look so preoccupied," Vaysh said as he came to stand behind me, rubbing my shoulders until I surrendered to his touch. He let out a low purr of triumph. "I can think of at least a dozen ways to get your mind off of whatever it is you're worried about."
"A dozen?"
"Just for starters."
He prowled around the desk and I saw he'd changed into a flowing, heavy silk dressing gown, belted at the waist but showing off the middle of his finely sculpted chest. I murmured my appreciation, especially when he straddled my legs and sat provocatively in my lap. My ouana-lim had started to awaken when Vaysh's hands had massaged down to my chest, but I felt no answering hardness in his body. He was in full soume form, then.
"We've not christened this chair, have we?" he asked throatily, beginning to grind his pelvis into mine. The friction caused heat to spiral outwards from my groin, desire frissoning up my spine and clambering into my stiff, sensitive ouana-lim.
"No. Not yet," I managed to groan before he leaned in to possess my mouth.
There are times when sharing breath is companionable, even verging on platonic. This, however, was not one of those occasions. This was an explosion of supernovas, suns cavorting as Vaysh's desire and singing chorus of need soared like comets until I had to pull away with a gasp.
"Fuck, Vaysh!" I said, breathing heavily as his nimble fingers unlaced the front of my trousers. "You might give a har a warning before kissing the daylights out of him."
Vaysh tut-tutted, insinuating his warm hand through the gap in the flannel-lined fabric to free my trapped length from its confines. "Nonsense," he said as I hissed at his skilled motions, his palm sliding up and down my heated flesh.
"Still, if you feel you need a warning, you should know that parenting has made me horny. I'm about to take you so deep, I'm going to ride you so hard you can't even say your own name."
He breathed into my ear before flicking around his tongue and nibbling gently on the lobe. Without preamble or warning, he rocked his hips and sank back down into my lap, sheathing my upright ouana-lim with the tightness of a glove. I gave a cry of disbelief, which changed to a stream of inarticulate groans pebbled with profanity. Vaysh was the aggressor, milking his own intense pleasure while I tried not to lose myself in the exquisite tortuous pleasure of his seas. I needed an anchor— instead, he shared breath again and I was further, hopelessly lost. The energies of our arunic bliss catapulted us farther than I'd been before, into wilds of amethyst, teeming oceans that crackled with the living jubilance of fireworks. Like passing into the eye of a storm, Vaysh slowed, the tsunami of erotic force quieted and I was able to catch my breath. My heart thundered in my chest; my fingers were gripping his hips tightly enough to bruise.
His grey eyes were feral; he possessed me. I had drowned, and the glow about his disheveled hair was the phosphorescence of incalculable deeps. He started to say something, and instead closed his eyes, leaning back his head as he began our intimate dance once again. My climax pounded in my groin; he brought me to the brink once more before he let abandon overtake him and my release flooded into his body.
Once the final currents had ebbed away, I chanced a look at Vaysh. The robe had fallen down his back; his flat belly trembled as his inner muscles gave my spent ouana-lim a last squeezing caress. He glowed with arunic strength. I was suddenly jealous for him and how he was so innately accomplished in the mysterious powers of Grissecon. Other hara adored him, his abilities to console, his surprising physical prowess, his wild abandon at our festivities when he let his hair down. But no one else knew just how brightly his flame for me burned, nor could anyone have known how singularly my own fire for him blazed.
"Where did we go?" I finally asked after we'd uncoupled and tidied up only to sprawl out, back to front, naked in front of the roaring fire.
"I'm not sure." He seemed pensive. "Not to worry, though," he said in a voice light and fearless. "I wouldn't go anywhere you couldn't follow."
Affection spilled out from me. I bled with it, holding him tightly to me, the firelight drawing cheery shadows on his white skin.
"I love you," I admitted softly, burying my nose into the musky hollow of his neck.
He drew my fingers into an enclave inside his own, clasped to his ribs. "There should be no shame in that."
"It doesn't seem enlightened. This Immanion, where we'll visit and apparently play some major part, whether we like it or not… What if love is seen as too human, too regressive?" It sounded ridiculous as the words tumbled out, and I finally formed aloud the words that continually troubled me. "Surely even Thiede can't forbid it outright."
Vaysh leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles.
"If he does, then we'll be clandestine outlaws."
I wished that I shared his conviction in love's willingness to subterfuge.
* * * * *
Winter thawed into a wet, oppressive, indecisive spring that was much like winter, only warmer. I craved sunlight, and grew to curse the overcast skies and still frequent fogs that often cloaked Castlegar. Five of our finest left several weeks after Natalia; the allure of sunny days and escaping a perception of too many inquisitive eyes — for Belvac, at least — encouraging their departure earlier than I'd hoped. I didn't keep a human calendar anymore, but I knew it was late April when the mountain ceased being coy and the grounds and trees alike exploded in an exhilarated panoply of life. Everything seemed to happen at once; flowers popped out of the ground, leaves burst from formerly lifeless branches. The overall mood on the mountain lightened a thousand fold, though the fate of our scouts, my friends, remained a niggling worry in the recessed of my mind.
Arahal visited several times, always on one of the regal white stallion-appearing creatures. The sedim could somehow travel paths through space, time and dimensions; I wasn't sure how and Arahal chose not to be forthcoming. He wasn't unfriendly, just focussed on his liege's demands. He would only stay one night, he continued to dress in a confection of black leather and silver chains no matter what the weather, and without fail, found a welcome respite in Mabast's home.
I chomped at the bit to see this Immanion, and I threw myself into the exhausting dedication to my caste work. Vaysh was more advanced than I was, and spent much of his daily time with Kyrgian. I was entrusted to Iolethe's care. Our educations were uniquely flavoured as we spent more than a few evenings with Firestorm and Cloudblaze, drinking deeply of the wisdom of their human tribal ancestry. A rustic sauna had been built; that spring Vaysh, Jaffa, Parallax and I met with Firestorm, Cloudblaze and Firethorn for weekly cleansings of spirit and body. Sometimes the simple pleasure of chatting in friendly conversation was refreshment enough.
Castlegar had emerged like a butterfly from a cocoon into a thriving, if relatively intimate community, complete with a weekly market out on the fields near the small lake and shrine to the Aghama. Goods and artistic outpourings of surprising variety, considering our populace, were available for barter or trade. We didn't have any true currency except in the skills and time to offer one another. Our hara were resourceful and talented: you could find everything from crafted leather shoes to hand-designed and built fanciful wooden furniture; inks and pressed paper; kites to fly colourfully on the wind.
One morning I was haggling with a particularly inspired artisan over a ring. It was bold, set with citrine and amber. I'd seen Vaysh fawn over it in weeks prior, trying to come to a satisfactory trade with the jeweller. All at once, Arahal interrupted me via mind-touch.
Thiede is here. It's time for you to come to Immanion.
My shock and zeal must have shown on my face, as the har asked me if I was okay.
"Yes, but I've got to go. Please take this ring off display," I pleaded, and my tone, or rank, seemed enough for him to agree. "I've been called away, but I promise I'll come to an acceptable payment for it."
"I'll be sure to come up with something!" he called out suggestively, and my step faltered for a moment.
Maybe he was joking. Maybe not— no hara were totally exclusive in rooning, of course, it was just that I'd not been approached even in jest by anyone outside of an elite group in quite some time. Parallax wasn't a stranger to Vaysh's and my bed. After particularly gruelling spiritual exercises, at times I'd given myself over to Jaffa or Polaris, both vibrant souls with whom aruna was exuberant and playful.
Where are you? I asked Arahal, stopping in my tracks and wondering if I had time to go to my rooms to tidy up.
Out at the stables. Just come as you are.
I shrugged, and strode quickly away to the barns and lush fields. My mind swarmed with fanciful images, thankfully brought to rest when I approached the stables. There were four sedim, their glorious bearing almost too much to stare at for too long. Vaysh stroked the neck of one, his obvious love for horses evident in his worshipful reverie. Thiede looked on with proud bemusement, dressed in flowing robes of copper and azure. Arahal, in a shocking change of pace, wore deep turquoise leather pants, though the black web of laces still adorned his strong torso. Lambent peacock feathers winked in his hair and copper chains flashed around his neck and hung from his ears. It was a pity Mabast wasn't here to see him like this!
"Today you'll see the beginnings of Immanion," Thiede said, gliding past Vaysh with a gentle touch to the small of his back. Vaysh reached up and tugged at the hair at his neck, the gesture one I knew meant he was nervous and preoccupied.
Standing in front of me, I realised Thiede wasn't too much taller than I was, though I felt dwarfed in comparison with his knowledge and seemingly careless ease with which he carried himself. It occurred to me how regal he was, and like any shrewd leader, he was hand picking the most useful and potentially loyal subjects to serve in his own kind of court— all done with a nod to beauty, I noted, as I glanced over at Vaysh, his red hair rippling in the fragrant spring air.
"Congratulations on your progress," he said. I felt he evaluated me from my choice of tunic to the beating centre of my heart's intents. "To ride a sedu, you must let him guide you. Give over absolutely to him; they know the routes through the aethers, so trust them. And hold on," he said with a wicked smile.
"What are their names? And what are they really?" Vaysh asked as the sedu appointed for him nuzzled at his palm.
"This one is Tassia. You need to open your mind to him. Go ahead and mount up— Immanion awaits."
Vaysh caught my eye, his face flushed with excitement or fear, I couldn't tell.
"You must connect with your sedu," Thiede was saying as I stepped into a stirrup and threw my leg up and over the creature. "I wish we weren't going so far, this first time, but there's nothing for it," he went on cheerfully. "Let yourself be guided. These sedim know the paths well. Hold on, but above all, focus. Align your intentions with them, and don't be swayed by visions you may see out in the vapors. Follow me!"
It's impossible to put into words how that first voyage felt. I opened my mind and nearly recoiled in shock at the alien intelligence Zephyr possessed. There was movement and rushing winds until all at once we were all linked, Thiede's vast power forming a link for hara and sedim alike and the universe cavorted around us. The trip took forever and yet no time at all; I clung blindly to Zephyr as we rode through freezing stardust, haunted by ululating alien wraiths. Like flickering shadows I saw Monarch, leaning in his doorframe with a pitying smile; Euclase whittling a piece of wood with a mournful face before cutting out his heart, the pulsing muscle changing to a pomegranate in Vaysh's hand, his eyes dancing as he flung the seeds as stars into the triumphant, flashing cavern of space.
Down and through and out— I nearly choked on the sea-scented air when I came to, back in our earthly realm. Shocked, I discovered I still clutched Zephyr's reins in a death grip, ice clinging to my hair and fingers. The horses thundered onto solid ground; I heard Vaysh's joyous, unfettered laugh tinkling on my ears. The sedim seemed invigorated by the journey, as did I, though the faint shadow of a headache pressed behind my eyes. After the frigid shears of the otherlanes, the balm of salty air in my lungs caused my blood to thaw and two shudders wracked my body.
"How do you feel?" Arahal asked as I turned my face to the warming sun.
"A bit discombobulated."
"That was fucking unbelievable!" Vaysh exclaimed, his eyes mad with euphoria and his hair a vibrant, tousled mess. I knew he'd been affected even more profoundly than I had; he was usually far more careful about his language, unless in the heat of the moment of taking aruna, that is.
"Isn't it?" Thiede said, seeming for an instant like a giddy child showing off a treasured gift. He canted up next to Vaysh to reach out and stroke his hand and Vaysh beamed, his face as dazzling as sunrise on a snowfield. They rode together, two porcelain figures with waterfalls of crimson hair. I felt a stab of worry, a lightning-fast dagger wound to my pride. I tried to shake it off, but I felt bruised, the grit of jealousy never completely leaving my mouth until we returned to Castlegar.
We rode down a grassy slope toward a bay, the air tangy with salt and sweet scent of cypress. Vaysh and Thiede chatted animatedly while Arahal and I travelled more or less in silence. I could see human influence still holding sway in some of the houses that clustered near the cerulean waters, but it didn't seem to be sinking into the same tortured decay we saw in Megalithica. As we rounded a curve, the shimmering outlines of Immanion spun elegantly from the sun-kissed earth. The scale of it was breathtaking, made all the more so because it was obviously only in the earliest stages of construction. I was no architect, but through flights of imagination — or visions planted by Thiede himself — I could see the yet unbuilt curving spires, the minarets and balconies, fountains and groves of shade trees, gleaming stone of onyx and marble, mosaics and pools in a realm in which the very stones breathed their order and beauty with the scent of jasmine.
Thiede turned around, caught my eye, and smiled. This was his harling, forming a perfect, living space of Wraeththu. Pride streamed from him with persimmon ribbons. Just as Thiede often as larger than life, his vision made physically manifest overwhelmed the senses. I remembered his words: 'What I want, I get.' Perhaps there was no one har who could contain his procreation; instead, there would be fruit of his mind and heart, rather than his loins. Again, I wondered how much of these lofty thoughts were mine, and if some were being conveniently place there by him.
There was an extended tour, time spent poring over scrolls of designs and sketches, partially the product of a human architect, I was surprised to hear. Later, over a scrumptious meal of mild cheeses, savoury fruits and tart wine, I asked Thiede point blank about his past. To my shock and Vaysh's delight, for once he was forthcoming, at least to the degree he was ever willing to be.
"Like both of you, I was made in Megalithica and like you, I was part of no particular tribe," Thiede stated factually before allowing himself to reminisce. "Those were dangerous, thrilling, glorious nightmares of days. I had a small group; we spread and grew in number, but never sought outright battles against humans. The world was descending into madness, and I had no desire to be taken down quickly with it. We transformed angry youths, wild punks and Goths, the outcasts and rebels into a gorgeous, death-defying brotherhood. Sadly, some of them spurned their gifts. Tribes broke off and rather than rising above humanity, rather than cherishing our near-immortality and wanting to pursue goals and enterprises simply unfathomable to humanity, poor, pathetic race that was trying — and as you know, failing — to retain its supremacy on the earth, instead they became megalomaniacs. They bred psychopaths and sycophants. Destruction as its own end was their primary endeavour: swarm over the lands, kill, incept anyone whenever possible, rape and murder if inception proved impossible, create mayhem and start petty wars among each other. They became absolutely no better than bullies, turning on each other and unforgivably squandering such a gift as has never been seen before on this planet."
Vaysh reached under the table to take my hand. He was moved by Thiede's impassioned speech; I squeezed his fingers in sympathy.
"I grew tired of watching them, some like bulls in an already ruined china shop, others too dull to fully appreciate or value this treasure. I could tell that I needed to begin anew, and so here I am. I keep tabs on those still in Megalithica, of course. I'm not fond of the cold, regardless," he said, one side of his lips quirking upward. "This climate suits me. I am influential on all hara, but I have only our best interests at heart," he went on, his voice fervent like a zealot. "Here I'll bring only the most extraordinary of Wraeththu kind, plucking them from all over the world to create a garden unrivaled by any this world has seen. It's my dream, my dear Vaysh and Ashmael. I have the ability to cause dreams to become realities so potent and vital that were I to let you in on even a tenth of it, your heads would positively explode with shock."
I doubted this, but I admired him for being so cocky. To get to where I currently sat, I'd travelled via a way that had been totally inconceivable before today, and if Thiede had discovered it and managed to teach it to others, God only knew what else he had designs on for our fledgling race. In that moment I made up my mind voluntarily to become a part of his plan. I took a sip of wine and fastened my gaze on Thiede who seemed to be waiting for me to speak.
"I'd like to flatter myself and say that even if I chose not to be a part of your shining city on a hill, that my strength would be such to resist you. However, I doubt that's the case, and I doubt even more that you'd allow such dissent. I do have reservations, but I'll come. Your methods of coercion are becoming legendary, but so are your ideals. I've felt I was being groomed for something— perhaps this is it. Perhaps you've been manipulating me all along," I said a bit in challenge.
Thiede arched a fiery eyebrow. "I'll never admit it. Well, not yet, anyway."
Arahal chuckled softly into his wineglass. I suspected he'd been one of Thiede's confidantes from the beginning, or as close to the beginning as either of them would reveal.
"Who incepted you?" Vaysh asked brazenly.
"Yes, the question everyhar wants to know." A sly smile graced Thiede's lips, but I thought I saw the tiniest flash of sorrow in his eyes, gone in an instant. "It's one of the great mysteries, and not one I'll reveal just now."
Just then a har of exquisite beauty even by our rarified standards entered the room. I sensed Vaysh's defenses clanging up around him as he did when he felt a potential rival appear.
"Ah, Velaxis," Thiede crooned. "Thank you for stopping by. This is Ashmael and Vaysh, as you know."
"Welcome to Almagabra, tiahaar," he said graciously, inclining his long neck with the grace of a swan. His heavy hair was a white brilliant as titanium dioxide. "Are you in need of anything?"
"Velaxis is my personal assistant," Thiede said. It was stultifyingly obvious that this har, no matter his title, wielded a tremendous amount of clout. He nodded in greeting to Arahal and looked at us with detached expectation.
"Are we staying?" Vaysh asked, the question purposefully open to interpretation.
"Is that your preference?" Thiede queried back sweetly.
"We didn't tell anyone we'd be gone," I began before realising that I spoke only for myself. "I didn't, anyway."
"You travelled a tremendous distance," Arahal said, speaking up after a long silence. "It would probably be best for you to spend the night, at the very least."
"Your own hilltop community needs to learn to get along without you," Thiede said pointedly.
"Yes, but some of our best hara are on an extended scouting mission," I said a bit peevishly. I'd said that I'd join his new vision, and presumably Vaysh would as well, but I wanted to do this on my terms. "Still, one night should be fine. Vaysh, does that suit you?"
Velaxis scoured Vaysh with a clinical once-over much like a butcher evaluating a cut of meat. Vaysh sat up straighter, giving Velaxis a haughty, defiant glare in return. "That's fine. I would love a bath though. Could that be arranged?"
"It would be my pleasure. I'll have one of the house-hara escort you both to a set of rooms." The willowy har flicked a glance at Thiede, and I had no doubt they were communicating privately.
Vaysh and I spent the rest of the afternoon taking a leisurely nap after a luxurious soak in a marble tub set into the floor of our bathroom suite. That evening the four of us dined together again, a late meal taken outdoors in the balmy evening. Once we'd eaten our fill, Thiede expressed his wish to go on a private walk with Vaysh. I immediately sought him through mind-touch, but he gently rebuked me.
I can hold my own, you remember, he said, but there was little sting to the words.
Once they'd gone, Velaxis again appeared, this time with a bottle of some liqueur I'd not had before. Arahal asked him to join us but he begged off, demurely explaining that he had other matters which required his attention. Arahal and I spent a couple of hours drinking the exotic beverage that smelled strongly of liquorice and had an oily consistency. The taste grew on me, as did Arahal's company, perhaps due to the alcohol loosening our tongues. We were getting on like fast friends when Vaysh and Thiede returned and Arahal pushed the last third of the bottle into my hand before I left.
My spirits were light and my heart expansive as Vaysh pulled me out on the balcony that opened off of our room.
"Ash, look," he said excitedly, pointing up at the sky. "It's a meteor shower. Very auspicious, don't you think?"
"As much as anything. You're the one who planted the thought in my head that there are no coincidences, you know."
He pulled me to him, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it before sliding his tongue into my awaiting mouth. The passionate kiss became a sharing of breath, which in turn became an incendiary taking of aruna; Vaysh held on to the balcony, staring at the stars and sounding like a wildcat in heat while I stood behind him, burying myself in his scorching depths.
The next afternoon we returned to Castlegar, all four of us. Arahal left his sedu in the starry-eyed hands of the young stable-har, which I knew meant he would soon be seeking out his Unneah companion. He'd returned to his usual all black ensemble, but the showy peacock feathers still graced his hair. I idly wondered if I'd see one or two of the opalescent feathers tucked into Mabast's chestnut hair in the coming days.
Thiede, Vaysh and I took a long stroll through the sacred greeny space of the forest. I almost wanted to reach out and take Thiede's hand; though he was a har and presumably as sensual as any of us, he radiated an aura of physical distance that I didn't want to violate. In silence we walked along paths strewn with bark and fern fronds, birds occasionally calling one another and hearing the snapping of twigs as deer, hidden from the eye, travelled in the woods. From my childhood religious upbringing, I had a keen sense of being in the Garden of Eden, before the snake had appeared, before knowledge had been consumed. Vaysh and I were walking in the lands with a Creator, out in the dusky gloaming of the day; he loved us, and he would have us be at his side in his new Paradise.
He wouldn't wait forever for us to take up residence in Almagabra, however, and I knew I didn't want to go until after the next Natalia. This would be done on his timeline, I suspected. If it took placing an angelic looking har at the gate of Castlegar with a flaming sword in his hand, barring us re-admittance, then I had no doubt that was what would happen.
Title: Maelstrom and Mage, Desire Thine Darkling
This post rating: adult
Warnings: rooning, ever-more-blatant Thiede, Arahal in turquoise leather
Word Count: 5,458
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. Exodus. 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.
thanks especially to
callumjames for pointing out I'd been misspelling the word 'Exodus.' (facepalm)"Ashmael? Come here! He's standing up— and walking! Kinda!" Firethorn said, his voice elated and incredulous.
I got up from my desk where I'd been documenting the arrival of another pair of hara, these from the northwest of us, and hurried into the living room. Firethorn and Vaysh were both making a flood of encouraging noises as the harling, sure enough, grasped hold of a chair leg. He stood, wobbling at the knees before bouncing a bit, and took a few shaky steps. He grinned widely, then fell flat on his behind. The tot's expression of joy transformed to shock and then his face reddened as he began to wail.
"Oh Lemmy, it's okay, don't cry," Firethorn said, scooping him up in his arms and rubbing his back. Vaysh cooed comfortingly to him as well while Firethorn paced a few steps back and forth, quieting down the harling.
"It's amazing how fast he's growing," Vaysh said, coming over to stand at my side.
"I'll say."
Lemuel was only a few weeks old. He'd eaten regular food almost since birth, though it had been served in a mash until his teeth began to come in. He had a cherubic, laughing face most of the time, and a sweet temperament. His curly black hair seemed to have a mind of its own, though this, too, was hardly unexpected since his sirelings also shared that disconcerting trait.
"Don't forget, we're keeping him tonight," Vaysh reminded me.
"He could stay with us," Firethorn said hopefully before nuzzling his face into the waving curls that fell from Lemuel's head. "Father and Blaze won't mind."
"Yes, but Vaysh will," I retorted. "I'm going to make us some dinner. Firethorn, are you staying?"
"No." His voice was glum. "Mabast's given me reading to do and we're meeting tomorrow morning. Thanks, though."
He passed the harling into Vaysh's awaiting arms. The infant promptly grabbed a fat fistful of Vaysh's hair and started chewing on it.
"Careful, or you'll spoil your appetite!" I said to the child, who looked at me through vast, light blue eyes and kept gnawing on the clump of red hair. "Fine. Don't listen."
Firethorn came through the kitchen a few moments later on his way out, bundled in a fur vest and overcoat to protect against the lingering winter chill. He picked up a piece of pickled beetroot and popped it into his mouth, his fingertips stained purple.
"When do they get back from their retreat?" he asked, wiping his fingers on a damp cloth.
"Tomorrow."
"What are they doing?"
"To tell the truth, I don't really know."
I continued chopping up lettuce, more of the hydroponic and magical genius coming from the greenhouse now mostly in Firethorn's care. Since Natalia, Jaffa had been spending much of his free time with Euclase. Fortunately this had coincided with the delivery of Ahalenia's pearl and the harling's birth into the world a few days following. Firethorn had been nearly inseparable from little Lemuel, and the Colurastes didn't seem to mind.
"I didn't think I needed to pry," I continued. "Their tribe has its own rituals, but I get the feeling that Eleu and Ahalenia were never average Colurastes, hence why they left. Or were exiled. I've never asked."
"Hmmmm."
Firethorn gazed speculatively at the salad I assembled, though his thoughts seemed elsewhere. He'd grown a few inches since his arrival last autumn; thankfully he didn't yet seem to be suffering any awkwardness or inexplicable brooding that would indicate the onset of adolescence.
"I'm going to plan an herb garden in the summer," he proclaimed, watching as I put water on to boil on our hybrid stove that ran on a generator.
"A good plan."
"I'll teach Lemmy everything I know. And maybe," he said slyly, looking at me with an arresting lack of innocence given his age, "maybe there'll be another harling by then, too."
I just gazed at him. "Maybe so. Honestly, I don't think we'll ever have very many. It's not like before, with humans, who could get pregnant by accident, just like that."
The befuddled expression on his face was priceless.
"Ask Mabast. He was human, too, back in the dark ages. Actually, I hope that once it's spring and we start scouting again that we'll find some human enclaves with young men who can be incepted. Not that harlings aren't superior, but until we know a lot more about our race and what's really required, flowery phrases notwithstanding, to create harish life, I don't foresee Castlegar having lots of doting parents."
"I'm glad I'm not the only pure-born anymore," he said his long brown fingers deftly plaiting a new braid from the nape of his neck.
"I thought you'd gotten used to being a celebrity!"
Firethorn pursed his lips. "I should go. I need to ask some questions to my akuchi."
"Your what?" I measured out some rice, poured it into the boiling water and placed a lid on the pot.
"Cards. Blaze and Opequon see things in dreams, but I don't. If I have questions that other people can't answer, or don't want to, I sit and think on it and ask the akuchi."
"Fascinating. Maybe you'll show me sometime?"
He nodded. "Sure. Well, I'd really better go." His mood seemed back to its usual upbeat keel. "See you! Bye Vaysh!" he called.
"Bye, Firethorn!"
We spent a comfortably domestic evening, the harling holding us both in his sway as only a child can. Vaysh put Lemuel to bed in the makeshift crib we'd fashioned for him, spending quite a bit of time reading stories and even singing a soft lullaby. I sat in my study with a decanter of vralsfire, poring over a map of southern Megalithica and beyond. Ondin, Opequon and Wyngarr had declared their intentions to go on another extended mapping and scouting mission at the first signs of spring. Belvac and Abelard voiced their plans to join them. I wasn't surprised; their thinly veiled comments about needing to get away from the rumour mill and potential turf wars had become more strident since Thiede and Arahal's Natalia visit. It all meant that many of those I knew the best and were our strongest hara in both brawn and intellect would be gone for an indeterminate amount of time. It made me uneasy, which led me to the realisation that I needed to re-evaluate the roles of all of the hara in our community.
"You look so preoccupied," Vaysh said as he came to stand behind me, rubbing my shoulders until I surrendered to his touch. He let out a low purr of triumph. "I can think of at least a dozen ways to get your mind off of whatever it is you're worried about."
"A dozen?"
"Just for starters."
He prowled around the desk and I saw he'd changed into a flowing, heavy silk dressing gown, belted at the waist but showing off the middle of his finely sculpted chest. I murmured my appreciation, especially when he straddled my legs and sat provocatively in my lap. My ouana-lim had started to awaken when Vaysh's hands had massaged down to my chest, but I felt no answering hardness in his body. He was in full soume form, then.
"We've not christened this chair, have we?" he asked throatily, beginning to grind his pelvis into mine. The friction caused heat to spiral outwards from my groin, desire frissoning up my spine and clambering into my stiff, sensitive ouana-lim.
"No. Not yet," I managed to groan before he leaned in to possess my mouth.
There are times when sharing breath is companionable, even verging on platonic. This, however, was not one of those occasions. This was an explosion of supernovas, suns cavorting as Vaysh's desire and singing chorus of need soared like comets until I had to pull away with a gasp.
"Fuck, Vaysh!" I said, breathing heavily as his nimble fingers unlaced the front of my trousers. "You might give a har a warning before kissing the daylights out of him."
Vaysh tut-tutted, insinuating his warm hand through the gap in the flannel-lined fabric to free my trapped length from its confines. "Nonsense," he said as I hissed at his skilled motions, his palm sliding up and down my heated flesh.
"Still, if you feel you need a warning, you should know that parenting has made me horny. I'm about to take you so deep, I'm going to ride you so hard you can't even say your own name."
He breathed into my ear before flicking around his tongue and nibbling gently on the lobe. Without preamble or warning, he rocked his hips and sank back down into my lap, sheathing my upright ouana-lim with the tightness of a glove. I gave a cry of disbelief, which changed to a stream of inarticulate groans pebbled with profanity. Vaysh was the aggressor, milking his own intense pleasure while I tried not to lose myself in the exquisite tortuous pleasure of his seas. I needed an anchor— instead, he shared breath again and I was further, hopelessly lost. The energies of our arunic bliss catapulted us farther than I'd been before, into wilds of amethyst, teeming oceans that crackled with the living jubilance of fireworks. Like passing into the eye of a storm, Vaysh slowed, the tsunami of erotic force quieted and I was able to catch my breath. My heart thundered in my chest; my fingers were gripping his hips tightly enough to bruise.
His grey eyes were feral; he possessed me. I had drowned, and the glow about his disheveled hair was the phosphorescence of incalculable deeps. He started to say something, and instead closed his eyes, leaning back his head as he began our intimate dance once again. My climax pounded in my groin; he brought me to the brink once more before he let abandon overtake him and my release flooded into his body.
Once the final currents had ebbed away, I chanced a look at Vaysh. The robe had fallen down his back; his flat belly trembled as his inner muscles gave my spent ouana-lim a last squeezing caress. He glowed with arunic strength. I was suddenly jealous for him and how he was so innately accomplished in the mysterious powers of Grissecon. Other hara adored him, his abilities to console, his surprising physical prowess, his wild abandon at our festivities when he let his hair down. But no one else knew just how brightly his flame for me burned, nor could anyone have known how singularly my own fire for him blazed.
"Where did we go?" I finally asked after we'd uncoupled and tidied up only to sprawl out, back to front, naked in front of the roaring fire.
"I'm not sure." He seemed pensive. "Not to worry, though," he said in a voice light and fearless. "I wouldn't go anywhere you couldn't follow."
Affection spilled out from me. I bled with it, holding him tightly to me, the firelight drawing cheery shadows on his white skin.
"I love you," I admitted softly, burying my nose into the musky hollow of his neck.
He drew my fingers into an enclave inside his own, clasped to his ribs. "There should be no shame in that."
"It doesn't seem enlightened. This Immanion, where we'll visit and apparently play some major part, whether we like it or not… What if love is seen as too human, too regressive?" It sounded ridiculous as the words tumbled out, and I finally formed aloud the words that continually troubled me. "Surely even Thiede can't forbid it outright."
Vaysh leaned his head down and placed a soft kiss on my knuckles.
"If he does, then we'll be clandestine outlaws."
I wished that I shared his conviction in love's willingness to subterfuge.
* * * * *
Winter thawed into a wet, oppressive, indecisive spring that was much like winter, only warmer. I craved sunlight, and grew to curse the overcast skies and still frequent fogs that often cloaked Castlegar. Five of our finest left several weeks after Natalia; the allure of sunny days and escaping a perception of too many inquisitive eyes — for Belvac, at least — encouraging their departure earlier than I'd hoped. I didn't keep a human calendar anymore, but I knew it was late April when the mountain ceased being coy and the grounds and trees alike exploded in an exhilarated panoply of life. Everything seemed to happen at once; flowers popped out of the ground, leaves burst from formerly lifeless branches. The overall mood on the mountain lightened a thousand fold, though the fate of our scouts, my friends, remained a niggling worry in the recessed of my mind.
Arahal visited several times, always on one of the regal white stallion-appearing creatures. The sedim could somehow travel paths through space, time and dimensions; I wasn't sure how and Arahal chose not to be forthcoming. He wasn't unfriendly, just focussed on his liege's demands. He would only stay one night, he continued to dress in a confection of black leather and silver chains no matter what the weather, and without fail, found a welcome respite in Mabast's home.
I chomped at the bit to see this Immanion, and I threw myself into the exhausting dedication to my caste work. Vaysh was more advanced than I was, and spent much of his daily time with Kyrgian. I was entrusted to Iolethe's care. Our educations were uniquely flavoured as we spent more than a few evenings with Firestorm and Cloudblaze, drinking deeply of the wisdom of their human tribal ancestry. A rustic sauna had been built; that spring Vaysh, Jaffa, Parallax and I met with Firestorm, Cloudblaze and Firethorn for weekly cleansings of spirit and body. Sometimes the simple pleasure of chatting in friendly conversation was refreshment enough.
Castlegar had emerged like a butterfly from a cocoon into a thriving, if relatively intimate community, complete with a weekly market out on the fields near the small lake and shrine to the Aghama. Goods and artistic outpourings of surprising variety, considering our populace, were available for barter or trade. We didn't have any true currency except in the skills and time to offer one another. Our hara were resourceful and talented: you could find everything from crafted leather shoes to hand-designed and built fanciful wooden furniture; inks and pressed paper; kites to fly colourfully on the wind.
One morning I was haggling with a particularly inspired artisan over a ring. It was bold, set with citrine and amber. I'd seen Vaysh fawn over it in weeks prior, trying to come to a satisfactory trade with the jeweller. All at once, Arahal interrupted me via mind-touch.
Thiede is here. It's time for you to come to Immanion.
My shock and zeal must have shown on my face, as the har asked me if I was okay.
"Yes, but I've got to go. Please take this ring off display," I pleaded, and my tone, or rank, seemed enough for him to agree. "I've been called away, but I promise I'll come to an acceptable payment for it."
"I'll be sure to come up with something!" he called out suggestively, and my step faltered for a moment.
Maybe he was joking. Maybe not— no hara were totally exclusive in rooning, of course, it was just that I'd not been approached even in jest by anyone outside of an elite group in quite some time. Parallax wasn't a stranger to Vaysh's and my bed. After particularly gruelling spiritual exercises, at times I'd given myself over to Jaffa or Polaris, both vibrant souls with whom aruna was exuberant and playful.
Where are you? I asked Arahal, stopping in my tracks and wondering if I had time to go to my rooms to tidy up.
Out at the stables. Just come as you are.
I shrugged, and strode quickly away to the barns and lush fields. My mind swarmed with fanciful images, thankfully brought to rest when I approached the stables. There were four sedim, their glorious bearing almost too much to stare at for too long. Vaysh stroked the neck of one, his obvious love for horses evident in his worshipful reverie. Thiede looked on with proud bemusement, dressed in flowing robes of copper and azure. Arahal, in a shocking change of pace, wore deep turquoise leather pants, though the black web of laces still adorned his strong torso. Lambent peacock feathers winked in his hair and copper chains flashed around his neck and hung from his ears. It was a pity Mabast wasn't here to see him like this!
"Today you'll see the beginnings of Immanion," Thiede said, gliding past Vaysh with a gentle touch to the small of his back. Vaysh reached up and tugged at the hair at his neck, the gesture one I knew meant he was nervous and preoccupied.
Standing in front of me, I realised Thiede wasn't too much taller than I was, though I felt dwarfed in comparison with his knowledge and seemingly careless ease with which he carried himself. It occurred to me how regal he was, and like any shrewd leader, he was hand picking the most useful and potentially loyal subjects to serve in his own kind of court— all done with a nod to beauty, I noted, as I glanced over at Vaysh, his red hair rippling in the fragrant spring air.
"Congratulations on your progress," he said. I felt he evaluated me from my choice of tunic to the beating centre of my heart's intents. "To ride a sedu, you must let him guide you. Give over absolutely to him; they know the routes through the aethers, so trust them. And hold on," he said with a wicked smile.
"What are their names? And what are they really?" Vaysh asked as the sedu appointed for him nuzzled at his palm.
"This one is Tassia. You need to open your mind to him. Go ahead and mount up— Immanion awaits."
Vaysh caught my eye, his face flushed with excitement or fear, I couldn't tell.
"You must connect with your sedu," Thiede was saying as I stepped into a stirrup and threw my leg up and over the creature. "I wish we weren't going so far, this first time, but there's nothing for it," he went on cheerfully. "Let yourself be guided. These sedim know the paths well. Hold on, but above all, focus. Align your intentions with them, and don't be swayed by visions you may see out in the vapors. Follow me!"
It's impossible to put into words how that first voyage felt. I opened my mind and nearly recoiled in shock at the alien intelligence Zephyr possessed. There was movement and rushing winds until all at once we were all linked, Thiede's vast power forming a link for hara and sedim alike and the universe cavorted around us. The trip took forever and yet no time at all; I clung blindly to Zephyr as we rode through freezing stardust, haunted by ululating alien wraiths. Like flickering shadows I saw Monarch, leaning in his doorframe with a pitying smile; Euclase whittling a piece of wood with a mournful face before cutting out his heart, the pulsing muscle changing to a pomegranate in Vaysh's hand, his eyes dancing as he flung the seeds as stars into the triumphant, flashing cavern of space.
Down and through and out— I nearly choked on the sea-scented air when I came to, back in our earthly realm. Shocked, I discovered I still clutched Zephyr's reins in a death grip, ice clinging to my hair and fingers. The horses thundered onto solid ground; I heard Vaysh's joyous, unfettered laugh tinkling on my ears. The sedim seemed invigorated by the journey, as did I, though the faint shadow of a headache pressed behind my eyes. After the frigid shears of the otherlanes, the balm of salty air in my lungs caused my blood to thaw and two shudders wracked my body.
"How do you feel?" Arahal asked as I turned my face to the warming sun.
"A bit discombobulated."
"That was fucking unbelievable!" Vaysh exclaimed, his eyes mad with euphoria and his hair a vibrant, tousled mess. I knew he'd been affected even more profoundly than I had; he was usually far more careful about his language, unless in the heat of the moment of taking aruna, that is.
"Isn't it?" Thiede said, seeming for an instant like a giddy child showing off a treasured gift. He canted up next to Vaysh to reach out and stroke his hand and Vaysh beamed, his face as dazzling as sunrise on a snowfield. They rode together, two porcelain figures with waterfalls of crimson hair. I felt a stab of worry, a lightning-fast dagger wound to my pride. I tried to shake it off, but I felt bruised, the grit of jealousy never completely leaving my mouth until we returned to Castlegar.
We rode down a grassy slope toward a bay, the air tangy with salt and sweet scent of cypress. Vaysh and Thiede chatted animatedly while Arahal and I travelled more or less in silence. I could see human influence still holding sway in some of the houses that clustered near the cerulean waters, but it didn't seem to be sinking into the same tortured decay we saw in Megalithica. As we rounded a curve, the shimmering outlines of Immanion spun elegantly from the sun-kissed earth. The scale of it was breathtaking, made all the more so because it was obviously only in the earliest stages of construction. I was no architect, but through flights of imagination — or visions planted by Thiede himself — I could see the yet unbuilt curving spires, the minarets and balconies, fountains and groves of shade trees, gleaming stone of onyx and marble, mosaics and pools in a realm in which the very stones breathed their order and beauty with the scent of jasmine.
Thiede turned around, caught my eye, and smiled. This was his harling, forming a perfect, living space of Wraeththu. Pride streamed from him with persimmon ribbons. Just as Thiede often as larger than life, his vision made physically manifest overwhelmed the senses. I remembered his words: 'What I want, I get.' Perhaps there was no one har who could contain his procreation; instead, there would be fruit of his mind and heart, rather than his loins. Again, I wondered how much of these lofty thoughts were mine, and if some were being conveniently place there by him.
There was an extended tour, time spent poring over scrolls of designs and sketches, partially the product of a human architect, I was surprised to hear. Later, over a scrumptious meal of mild cheeses, savoury fruits and tart wine, I asked Thiede point blank about his past. To my shock and Vaysh's delight, for once he was forthcoming, at least to the degree he was ever willing to be.
"Like both of you, I was made in Megalithica and like you, I was part of no particular tribe," Thiede stated factually before allowing himself to reminisce. "Those were dangerous, thrilling, glorious nightmares of days. I had a small group; we spread and grew in number, but never sought outright battles against humans. The world was descending into madness, and I had no desire to be taken down quickly with it. We transformed angry youths, wild punks and Goths, the outcasts and rebels into a gorgeous, death-defying brotherhood. Sadly, some of them spurned their gifts. Tribes broke off and rather than rising above humanity, rather than cherishing our near-immortality and wanting to pursue goals and enterprises simply unfathomable to humanity, poor, pathetic race that was trying — and as you know, failing — to retain its supremacy on the earth, instead they became megalomaniacs. They bred psychopaths and sycophants. Destruction as its own end was their primary endeavour: swarm over the lands, kill, incept anyone whenever possible, rape and murder if inception proved impossible, create mayhem and start petty wars among each other. They became absolutely no better than bullies, turning on each other and unforgivably squandering such a gift as has never been seen before on this planet."
Vaysh reached under the table to take my hand. He was moved by Thiede's impassioned speech; I squeezed his fingers in sympathy.
"I grew tired of watching them, some like bulls in an already ruined china shop, others too dull to fully appreciate or value this treasure. I could tell that I needed to begin anew, and so here I am. I keep tabs on those still in Megalithica, of course. I'm not fond of the cold, regardless," he said, one side of his lips quirking upward. "This climate suits me. I am influential on all hara, but I have only our best interests at heart," he went on, his voice fervent like a zealot. "Here I'll bring only the most extraordinary of Wraeththu kind, plucking them from all over the world to create a garden unrivaled by any this world has seen. It's my dream, my dear Vaysh and Ashmael. I have the ability to cause dreams to become realities so potent and vital that were I to let you in on even a tenth of it, your heads would positively explode with shock."
I doubted this, but I admired him for being so cocky. To get to where I currently sat, I'd travelled via a way that had been totally inconceivable before today, and if Thiede had discovered it and managed to teach it to others, God only knew what else he had designs on for our fledgling race. In that moment I made up my mind voluntarily to become a part of his plan. I took a sip of wine and fastened my gaze on Thiede who seemed to be waiting for me to speak.
"I'd like to flatter myself and say that even if I chose not to be a part of your shining city on a hill, that my strength would be such to resist you. However, I doubt that's the case, and I doubt even more that you'd allow such dissent. I do have reservations, but I'll come. Your methods of coercion are becoming legendary, but so are your ideals. I've felt I was being groomed for something— perhaps this is it. Perhaps you've been manipulating me all along," I said a bit in challenge.
Thiede arched a fiery eyebrow. "I'll never admit it. Well, not yet, anyway."
Arahal chuckled softly into his wineglass. I suspected he'd been one of Thiede's confidantes from the beginning, or as close to the beginning as either of them would reveal.
"Who incepted you?" Vaysh asked brazenly.
"Yes, the question everyhar wants to know." A sly smile graced Thiede's lips, but I thought I saw the tiniest flash of sorrow in his eyes, gone in an instant. "It's one of the great mysteries, and not one I'll reveal just now."
Just then a har of exquisite beauty even by our rarified standards entered the room. I sensed Vaysh's defenses clanging up around him as he did when he felt a potential rival appear.
"Ah, Velaxis," Thiede crooned. "Thank you for stopping by. This is Ashmael and Vaysh, as you know."
"Welcome to Almagabra, tiahaar," he said graciously, inclining his long neck with the grace of a swan. His heavy hair was a white brilliant as titanium dioxide. "Are you in need of anything?"
"Velaxis is my personal assistant," Thiede said. It was stultifyingly obvious that this har, no matter his title, wielded a tremendous amount of clout. He nodded in greeting to Arahal and looked at us with detached expectation.
"Are we staying?" Vaysh asked, the question purposefully open to interpretation.
"Is that your preference?" Thiede queried back sweetly.
"We didn't tell anyone we'd be gone," I began before realising that I spoke only for myself. "I didn't, anyway."
"You travelled a tremendous distance," Arahal said, speaking up after a long silence. "It would probably be best for you to spend the night, at the very least."
"Your own hilltop community needs to learn to get along without you," Thiede said pointedly.
"Yes, but some of our best hara are on an extended scouting mission," I said a bit peevishly. I'd said that I'd join his new vision, and presumably Vaysh would as well, but I wanted to do this on my terms. "Still, one night should be fine. Vaysh, does that suit you?"
Velaxis scoured Vaysh with a clinical once-over much like a butcher evaluating a cut of meat. Vaysh sat up straighter, giving Velaxis a haughty, defiant glare in return. "That's fine. I would love a bath though. Could that be arranged?"
"It would be my pleasure. I'll have one of the house-hara escort you both to a set of rooms." The willowy har flicked a glance at Thiede, and I had no doubt they were communicating privately.
Vaysh and I spent the rest of the afternoon taking a leisurely nap after a luxurious soak in a marble tub set into the floor of our bathroom suite. That evening the four of us dined together again, a late meal taken outdoors in the balmy evening. Once we'd eaten our fill, Thiede expressed his wish to go on a private walk with Vaysh. I immediately sought him through mind-touch, but he gently rebuked me.
I can hold my own, you remember, he said, but there was little sting to the words.
Once they'd gone, Velaxis again appeared, this time with a bottle of some liqueur I'd not had before. Arahal asked him to join us but he begged off, demurely explaining that he had other matters which required his attention. Arahal and I spent a couple of hours drinking the exotic beverage that smelled strongly of liquorice and had an oily consistency. The taste grew on me, as did Arahal's company, perhaps due to the alcohol loosening our tongues. We were getting on like fast friends when Vaysh and Thiede returned and Arahal pushed the last third of the bottle into my hand before I left.
My spirits were light and my heart expansive as Vaysh pulled me out on the balcony that opened off of our room.
"Ash, look," he said excitedly, pointing up at the sky. "It's a meteor shower. Very auspicious, don't you think?"
"As much as anything. You're the one who planted the thought in my head that there are no coincidences, you know."
He pulled me to him, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, running his tongue over it before sliding his tongue into my awaiting mouth. The passionate kiss became a sharing of breath, which in turn became an incendiary taking of aruna; Vaysh held on to the balcony, staring at the stars and sounding like a wildcat in heat while I stood behind him, burying myself in his scorching depths.
The next afternoon we returned to Castlegar, all four of us. Arahal left his sedu in the starry-eyed hands of the young stable-har, which I knew meant he would soon be seeking out his Unneah companion. He'd returned to his usual all black ensemble, but the showy peacock feathers still graced his hair. I idly wondered if I'd see one or two of the opalescent feathers tucked into Mabast's chestnut hair in the coming days.
Thiede, Vaysh and I took a long stroll through the sacred greeny space of the forest. I almost wanted to reach out and take Thiede's hand; though he was a har and presumably as sensual as any of us, he radiated an aura of physical distance that I didn't want to violate. In silence we walked along paths strewn with bark and fern fronds, birds occasionally calling one another and hearing the snapping of twigs as deer, hidden from the eye, travelled in the woods. From my childhood religious upbringing, I had a keen sense of being in the Garden of Eden, before the snake had appeared, before knowledge had been consumed. Vaysh and I were walking in the lands with a Creator, out in the dusky gloaming of the day; he loved us, and he would have us be at his side in his new Paradise.
He wouldn't wait forever for us to take up residence in Almagabra, however, and I knew I didn't want to go until after the next Natalia. This would be done on his timeline, I suspected. If it took placing an angelic looking har at the gate of Castlegar with a flaming sword in his hand, barring us re-admittance, then I had no doubt that was what would happen.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-04 06:04 pm (UTC)It already gives the foreboding feeling of to the reader what is to happen next...
I loved it^^
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-05 10:39 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-04 08:18 pm (UTC)Also, obligatory Velaxis fangirl squee goes here!
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-05 10:40 pm (UTC)I think i was just going for humor. ;)
Glad you liked Velaxis! I put him there for you. :) Sorry there's not more of him yet, but I wanted just a flavor of Immanion before getting them back to Castlegar. But I also thought it'd be fun to have him before he's 'given' to the Hegemony. Because there isn't one yet! Ah, the early days.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-19 07:16 am (UTC)Yes, I do like the sense of foreboding that Ash has everytime Vaysh and Thiede are together.
I love your descriptions of the surroundings. I get such good visuals from this.
Some more stuff that I liked especially:
e picked up a piece of pickled beetroot and popped it into his mouth, his fingertips stained purple.
I needed an anchor— instead, he shared breath again and I was further, hopelessly lost.
a confection of black leather and silver chains
That was fucking unbelievable!" Vaysh exclaimed, his eyes mad with euphoria
From my childhood religious upbringing, I had a keen sense of being in the Garden of Eden, before the snake had appeared, before knowledge had been consumed. Vaysh and I were walking in the lands with a Creator, out in the dusky gloaming of the day; he loved us, and he would have us be at his side in his new Paradise.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-19 05:42 pm (UTC)I continue to be so grateful for your in-depth commentary. The foreboding is is certainly intentional. ;)
And I'm thrilled that you quoted back that last part; I'd had that vision and scene in my mind from the very beginning of the story. It was a bit of a relief finally to be able to write it! There's no small amount of me in Ashmael; he was loosely raised as an Episcopalian, knowing some Biblical imagery. Plus, they're such a new race, the Adam and
EveAdam out with their creator before they realize just how manipulative the Aghama is, I thought that image would work well.(no subject)
Date: 2008-03-19 07:12 pm (UTC)Yes, this is the innocent, trusting Ashmael feeling proud at his part in the grand plan. I wonder how he'll feel when he learns he's been a pawn in Thiede's game. I think he'll feel betrayed. It is a good image.