Maelstrom and Mage, Ashmael/Vaysh, Post 10: The End

[thrihyrne]

This is when I wish I were writing an AU fic. This is the final post; you knew it was coming, and here's my take on how this pivotal event may have occurred. I just keep reminding myself that this is all Storm's plot, her 'cruelty', but living it through Ashmael is quite painful indeed. Continued from post 9,
here.

Title: Maelstrom and Mage, Desire Thine Darkling
This post rating: adult
Warnings: rooning, Angst with a capital A, character death
Word Count: 5,775
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.

For those who have been reading this, thank you for your companionship in my first foray into Wraeththu fanfiction. A sequel will be starting up soon from Vaysh's POV. I've also put together a 'soundtrack' for Maelstrom and Mage which I should have uploaded for your listening pleasure later this weekend.


"Saltrock."

I blew out the word in a stream of cigarette smoke.

Out in the small lake, Ondin continued to float in the patched-up inner tube he'd managed to repair using methods I couldn't begin to fathom. "What about it?"

Parallax swam up behind him before letting out a triumphant yell. He cupped his hands and slammed them into the water so that a small wave soaked Ondin's left side.

"ARRRRGH!" Ondin spluttered as Parallax gave an evil laugh. He swam away on his back, kicking more water at him in the process. "You know this means war!"

"Bring it on!" Parallax taunted as he got to shore. He pulled himself up on one of the small boulders and stood aggressively, gesturing at his chest. He shimmied just a bit and my eyes couldn't help watching his dancing ouana-lim as it slapped from thigh to thigh. He really had been blessed with a great many gifts.

I took another drag off of my cigarette. It was a perfect summer day: hot, but not oppressively humid, enough of a breeze that the insects weren't swarming. It was a market day so I didn't feel the need to be roaming the Castlegar grounds or doing anything that remotely resembled business. I'd wanted to bend Ondin's ear much more in depth about their months spent at the other solitary outpost, as well as other aspects of their trip. At breakfast I'd suggested that we take our horses and go out to a secluded natural pool down the mountain. Parallax had been eavesdropping and managed to wheedle his way into the outing. I didn't mind; I felt he should know what was really going on. I hadn't said as much to him, or anyhar for that matter, but I hoped to bring him to Immanion as well, as my own personal aide. Thiede had one, and besides, Thiede had seemed serious enough about adding Parallax to his list of fawning acolytes. Or potentially useful hara, whichever.

"What do you think was so compelling about Saltrock that made them want to say?" I asked Ondin, reviving my line of thought.

"I don't know. It seemed a bit more rustic, fewer rules, a bit more like the wild west?" Ondin offered. His gaze had also drawn to Parallax, who'd come over to sprawl by me, bumming a cigarette and showing off his rather masculine glory. "To be honest, I think they wanted to make more of a name for themselves. Belvac has felt like he's in your shadow, held back, I guess. In Saltrock he and Abelard can do whatever the fuck they want, and their skills are definitely needed. I don't think it's really all that personal."

I snorted at that. It wasn't the end of the world that they'd decided to stay, leaving all of their personal possessions here in Castlegar unless they decided they absolutely couldn't live without some knickknack or sentimental treasure. But after two and a half years of having hara be drawn to Castlegar, if I were being honest with myself, it stung my pride that someone from my original clan had defected to another outpost of harish life. Then again, Belvac and I had been butting heads for months. Perhaps it was better that he and his equally enigmatic lover had decided to stay in Saltrock. Our shouting matches during Regents' conferences had almost become regular enough to be an agenda item.

"Had Thiede visited Saltrock?" Parallax asked Ondin, now taking a drink from the wine bottle that trailed after him, bobbing in the water.

"I don't know. They already have somebody really powerful there, Orien. I talked about him at the Regents' meeting," he reminded Parallax.

"I know. But that was a more formal event. Now we're just three hara, friends, sometimes more…" he let the words drift off as he looked up at me and raised his eyebrows.

I gave a reciprocal acknowledgement.

"We should have a name." Parallax stated.

"What?" Ondin asked.

"A name. Ahalenia and Eleu, and little Lemmy, of course, they're Colurastes. Mabast is Unneah. There are the Varrs just north of us, and you all told us about the Kakkahaar further south of Saltrock," he went on, gesturing at Ondin with a newly lit cigarette. "I've talked with Blaze, Firestorm and even Thorn on my own, and they shared with me the name of their human ancestral tribe. They were Chickasaw. But we don't have a name," he finished, his brow furrowed. "I think we should."

"Thiede and Arahal don't seem to have a tribal name," I said reasonably. "A name doesn't make you more or less Wraeththu."

"The hara at Saltrock don't either." Ondin paddled to shore, where he engineered a makeshift shade and helped himself to more wine. "But you have a good point. We could use a self-identifier."

"Shouldn't things like that happen naturally?" I asked.

"What, like inceptions? Or our race in general?" Parallax's voice held no malice, just dark humour.

"What name would you deem appropriate?"

He mused for a time and finally looked at me, giving a rueful shrug. "Don't know. But I'll think about it."

"No doubt!" Ondin said with a short laugh and a warm smile.

"It's good to have you back," I said to my old friend. "And a bit jealous of all that you experienced."

"Well, I'm glad to be back, though you've apparently had your own share of highly unique adventures!"

I huffed a laugh at that and beckoned at his wine bottle.

"When do the Kakkahaar arrive?" Parallax asked, now sitting cross-legged. He'd pulled his bag of beads and hand tools to him and begun working on an intricate armband.

"In a couple of weeks."

I was both intrigued and no small bit wary of their upcoming visit. They had taken in our hara as guests, however, and we needed to return the favour. Besides, I wanted us to have allies. Even though we'd not had direct run-ins with the Varrs, or Uigenna, since the attack which had claimed Monarch's life, I was under no illusion that the peace would last. News of our presence would travel; it was bound to. There weren't nearly enough of us to take on a fully armed battalion, especially if, as both the Kakkahaar and residents of Saltrock had told our envoys, the Varrs were actively pursuing the dark avenues of magic our race possessed. Then again, according to Opequon's private discussion with me once the triumvirate chesnari had returned without Belvac and Abelard, the Kakkahaar were doing far more than dabble in dark arts themselves.

"Did they have any harlings?" I asked Ondin, the question having just popped into my head. I was beginning to correlate tribal spiritual advancement with harlings as evidence, though I'd only said such a thing aloud to Vaysh.

"Not that we saw," he replied, pulling his knees to his chest and resting his head on his knees. "But for all of their hospitality— and I'll say it again, Ash, they were very hospitable —"

I sensed Parallax's attentions snap to attention, like a fox suddenly sniffing a tasty scent.

"They're a secretive tribe," Ondin continued. "Still, I think if they had managed to generate new harish life like that, from the feelings I got, they would have had the child on display. They're really private, and I didn't truly relax the entire time we were with them. They're quite proud."

"Very astute, Ondin. And since you are, I have another question. I'd like your opinion too, Parallax."

"All you need to do is ask!" he said with a beguiling smile.

"And so I am. Ondin, the scarabs you and your chesnari have have inspired me, as well as some of the tribal markings on Blaze and Firestorm. I'm thinking of asking Wycker to draw one for me, about Vaysh. I just can't seem to come up with just one symbol."

"Ashmael," Ondin drawled, his face gleeful. "How romantic! I'm shocked! How very unlike you."

"That's not true!" I blustered. "I don't feel the need to shout my feelings from the rooftop, but I do unexpected things for him not infrequently."

"You want the tattoo to be about Vaysh? Or the two of you, together?" Parallax asked, still busily threading beads on a tiny loom.

"Just him."

"What about a horse?" Ondin suggested. "Or the horse constellation since he's fond of astronomy. Or maybe you two aren't looking at stars at all when you spend time up at that tower."

I didn't answer that, but saw a conspiratorial smile traipse on Parallax's lips. The three of us had repaired one of the telescopes in the former astronomy tower but we'd also taken advantage of the privacy and novelty to take aruna a few times as well.

"Pegasus," Parallax said. "A flying horse. That'd be a good choice— it has the constellation idea, and a horse that gallops through the skies, like that one that Arahal rides. Vaysh couldn't stop talking about your unbelievable trip through space or however you got to Immanion. His tone of voice when he talked about Tassia was eerily similar to how he sounds when he talks about you," he said with a wry smile. "When he's feeling generous, anyway."

"What do you think he would get? For me?" I asked, thinking I might really do this and wanting to give Vaysh suggestions if he felt like doing something similarly permanent. Oddly enough we hadn't talked about a blood-binding ceremony, or even spoken aloud about trying to conceive a harling; I guessed that Vaysh felt as I did after Immanion, which was that those two events would occur once we were there. We'd have Thiede's approval and even participation, at least in regards to a blood-binding ceremony.

"Vaysh is not getting a tattoo," Ondin declared, easing out from his rigged shelter to go and retrieve another bottle of wine from its tethered point near the edge of the water.

"You're underestimating him," Parallax challenged.

"He's more innately soume than I am," I said, "but he's fearless. I've never seen him shirk from anything dangerous."

"Still, I don't know that he would. He's quite vain about his flawless pale skin," Parallax went on with a disdainful shrug. His own skin had tanned to a dark, tawny gold. "But if I were him, or if I were chesna with you, I'd probably ask Wycker to ink in a sword, since you're so into defense. Maybe a sword with ivy twisted around it, or on the blade or something."

"I still say he'd never agree to it," Ondin said, handing me the bottle of wine.

"Is that a bet?"

"Certainly!" he said, eyes dancing. "But it can't be forever. Since our bodies are so hardy, we might live to be two hundred years old! I bet Vaysh won't get a tattoo to do with you or anyone else in the next year."

"That's not very long!"

"A lot can happen in a year."

"Okay, fine. But what are the terms?"

"You don't need terms," Parallax scoffed.

"Of course we do," Ondin said. "You have that really nice leather coat, the dark maroon one. If I win, and after a year Vaysh's skin is as pristine as ever, I get the coat."

"Hmmmph." I really did love that coat, and wasn't sure I wanted it to be a part of this silly bet. I'd started it, though, and I couldn't back down now. "Well, you have that pistol with the mother of pearl set in the handle. If I win, I get it."

He looked at me with incredulity.

"Tiahaar!" Parallax said, shaking his head. "You're being way too serious. Ashmael, if you lose, you should dye your hair blue for a few months or something. Or run laps around the chancellery in the nude."

Ondin snickered.

"And you, Ondin, if you lose, you'll have to cook Ash's favourite three course meal, or cook personally for him and Vaysh for a week. None of this ridiculous favourite coat and pistol bullshit."

"I think Ashmael would look stunning if he had green hair, actually," Ondin said brightly.

"All right. One year from now, high midsummer of… well, next year. If Vaysh has a tattoo, you cook for me for a week. And I get a massage a day."

Ondin groaned, but nodded.

"If he doesn't, then I'll dye my hair green and keep it that way for a month or so."

"Don't forget the laps!" Parallax said, grinning.

"Nobody wants to see me run around like an idiot in the nude," I insisted, but Parallax's expression seemed to indicate otherwise. "Fine."

Snatches of that conversation still peppered my thoughts when I went to Wycker a few days later. I had a drawing from Parallax in hand and a few strands of Vaysh's hair taken from his hairbrush.

"Are you sure you want his actual essence in the ink?" he asked uncertainly when I explained why I had the hair.

"Of course," I said, defensive. Then I realised he was just trying to look out for me. "We're chesna. We haven't jumped into a blood-binding, but I don't doubt we'll do that in the future as a formality."

"Well, if you're certain…" he said, looking relieved.

It was exquisite, a rather tribal looking Pegasus, the shape of the constellation visible within the overall form. Even after it healed it remained faintly warm to the touch, a legacy of the magical infusion of Vaysh's hair. His blood would have made it even more potent — and vibrant — but I couldn't get any from him without him asking why. Once I unveiled the tattoo to Vaysh, he said he loved it. He kept insisting that I walk around shirtless so he could admire it, inked across my left shoulder blade, opposite my heart. To Ondin's chagrin, he lost the bet far sooner than he imagined when Vaysh sought out Firethorn and Wycker and got his own. It was a narrow, intertwining plait around his left bicep in colours of red, green and purple. He said the red was for him, the purple for me and the green to symbolise growth, all bound up together. The two of us ate quite well for a week and Ondin, to his credit, didn't complain. Much.

Three emissaries from the Kakkahaar came in the waning, sultry days of summer, welcomed with a large feast and live music by Thorn, Jaffa and a couple of others who had made a band of sorts. After a week or so for them to get used to our very different environment and rather eclectic host of hara, they began giving instruction to a dozen or so individuals particularly gifted in the spiritual and esoteric powers. Vaysh, Parallax and Firethorn were avid students, also Mabast and others who had come to the mountain in the past year. The Kakkahaar slowly became more open and less isolationist as the first month went on. They also met regularly with our own spiritual leaders. They were fascinated by Firethorn and his sirelings as well as Lemuel, but they were only this side of frosty with the two adult Colurastes.

Everyone in Castlegar came out for a full day and night of bacchanalian revelry at the autumnal equinox. At the geographic heart of our community there was all kinds of food, singing, copious amounts of wine and all other varieties of alcohol, dancing, and hara dressed in their finest, tightest clothes. Those with skills in tailoring and jewellery making must have engaged in a brisk trade given the parading hara all decked out. Some were ostentatious, but others were more simply clad though elegant in a less fussy way. The scent of aruna and swirling perfumes of desire and lust hung like a thick velvet canopy over the grounds.

Vaysh and I certainly weren't immune. We took a somewhat drunken walk out to the viewing area I loved so much and were delighted to discover no one else was there. One thing led to another, and soon one of my nicest tunics was covered in grass stains. I didn't care because Vaysh was spread out on it like a luscious, ripe peach. I licked and kissed and drank down his juices while the stars watched impassively. I crawled up from between his trembling thighs to nip and nuzzle at the band inked around his arm. In a throaty voice, he demanded that I kneel near his face. What a wicked, talented tongue he had. My ouana-lim flowered as he swallowed and swirled his tongue around my hard length; the petals curled back so no sensitive spot was held hidden from him.

When neither of us could bear the relative separation any longer, I knee-walked back down to the beckoning vee of his legs and sank into him. His body welcomed me; I wanted to bury myself forever in the grasping, fierce coals of his passion. Like diamond smoke, his desire poured into me as we shared breath; as once before, I was drawn with him into enchanted wilds of plum and musky shadow. Deep within my ouana-lim, I felt as though a spring had snapped— a butterfly tongue unfurled, and I drowned in the warm silver of Vaysh's eyes.

Yes, Ashmael, yes, he said without speaking as a secret chamber deep within him began to open, rapture blazing from his face.

Without warning, we both felt a painful shock, a resounding, silent clang as a force from outside of us barred Vaysh's pulsing centre of creation. Even as I looked in his panicked eyes, our arunic energies were stirred up into a pleasure so intense I screamed with it. Our bodies spasmed and shook as our unbearable ecstasy roared and stretched relentlessly on until I thought we would be ripped apart. Dizzy, ghostly stars danced in my peripheral vision. After long minutes the thundering waves of our release subsided and we lay on the ground, gasping like nearly drowned hara spat out of the sea.

I was crying; I choked out hiccoughing, syrupy sobs of anger into Vaysh's wreck of hair. I knew with all of my heart what that should have been and who had halted it so abruptly.

"Damn you Thiede, you bastard!" I growled brokenly, clutching Vaysh to me and trying to stop my hands from shaking.

"Shhhhh, Ash, it's okay. More than him, I felt ours," he whispered, which caused more tears to stain my face. "He's still there. This wasn't the time."

"What kind of fucking god does Thiede think he is to decide when is right?" I ground out bitterly until all at once, my anger was scoured away. I felt battered and ravaged, chewed up and most importantly, warned.

Vaysh was my angel, somehow consoling me when he'd been just as mauled, just as violated. He'd felt that secret, sweet harbour open its gates to me for the first time—

"Next time we'll know, for certain," he said softly, running a hand through my hair and the other fanned out on my tattoo, the spot thrumming warmly with his spirit. "Our son should be delivered in Immanion. Thiede must want him conceived there, too. He wants us Ash, so much." His tender voice tore at my heart with the edge of a jagged knife.

Wrapped in Vaysh's wings of comfort, I cried again. I wasn't sure which he Vaysh meant.

* * * * *

Another glorious autumn spread its colourful cheer over the mountain, but I was preoccupied and didn't marvel at the display as I had the prior two years. I felt Thiede's presence not infrequently, and sensed him distantly watching us, though his focus seemed primarily to be on Vaysh. For several weeks after our experience at the equinox, I held back when we took aruna, unwilling to experience that heartbreak again. I now knew how it felt to be climbing to that plane of consciousness, and we were both careful not to allow ourselves near that path. Eventually I began readying myself to leave Castlegar and as I did, I was aware of doors opening for me, of difficult situations resolving themselves. I marvelled, yet again, at how powerful Thiede's desires must be if they could grease the wheels of life itself. Arahal even spoke at the Regents' assembly at which Vaysh and I formally announced that we would depart for Immanion a few days after Natalia. Our harbrethren were going to miss us, but we promised to return to visit, and Arahal extended the arm of hospitality on Thiede's behalf to any who wished to see us once we were settled in.

Winter had just curled its frosty toes into the ground when we had another leaving feast. This one was for the Kakkahaar, who were quite ready to return to their desert climes. Parallax and Galen, one of the two nearly dead hara we'd found in that ramshackle barn a year ago, went with them to continue their caste studies. The night before they left, Vaysh and I invited Parallax to our bed, exhausting him in the fiercest, most loving way possible.

"They're so good at mind-touch, over incredibly long distances," he informed us later. We'd curled around each other in front of the fire like sluggish snakes under the sun. "I should be able to communicate with you, at least until you're across the waters. I'm not sure after that."

"You just learn all you can," Vaysh encouraged him, his pale, delicate fingers combing gently through the tight curls at Parallax's groin. "Before you know it, you'll be summoned to Immanion, too. What a reunion that'll be!"

"We have a last Natalia to experience here," I reminded him. "Vox and Polaris said it'll be especially memorable. Pity you'll miss it," I said to Parallax, leaning in to nibble teasingly on his earlobe. He groaned, the baritone of his voice roughened by his vocal enthusiasm through the night.

"You two have worn me out. I won't want to think about rooning again for ages!" he said, a sensual smile gliding onto his lips as he stretched out his long limbs.

"I don't doubt that the Kakkahaar will give in-depth instruction in every skill they pride themselves," Vaysh said silkily, his fingers toying with the girth of Parallax's ouana-lim. "And they are a very prideful tribe."

Parallax turned his head to me, his hazel eyes awash in mirth and gratitude. There was none of the angry, smart-mouthed human at whose head I'd held a gun those seasons ago; he'd truly blossomed into an extraordinary har.

I'll look forward to you joining us in Immanion, whenever that is, I said to him telepathically.

One thing at a time, he said blithely, his ouana-lim being brought expertly back to full flower in Vaysh's skilled fingers. "Didn't you mention something about tying me to your bed?"

* * * * *

Natalia was a lively, raucous celebration as it had been in years past, though Thiede didn't appear. Arahal did, though he now seemed like an honorary resident of Castlegar rather than a guest. He brought a powerful har with him named Tharmifex, whom I took a liking to immediately. We arranged to meet for breakfast at a reasonable hour the next day before Polaris, with the subtlety of a wolf among sheep, led him away.

Early the following morning, I was awakened by a strange sound I couldn't place. It was eerily quiet, with a tinkling noise tapping on the roof. Vaysh's eyes fluttered open when I got out of bed and he pulled the covers around himself. Looking out of our windows I saw a surreal, frozen landscape— ice blanketed every surface, glinting in the watery dawn. Plinking notes of tiny frozen pellets danced through the hushed air; it was a wonderland of translucent beauty.

"What is it?" Vaysh asked sleepily.

"An ice storm," I said, shaking my head. "It's beautiful."

"Is it worth getting out of bed for?"

"I'd say so."

After a time, curiosity got the better of him, and with a bit of grumbling, he pulled on a dressing gown and joined me, gazing out at the trees, encrusted and frozen. Each surface was a hardened mirror, glittering and silent.

"It's gorgeous," he breathed. "We've got to go out for a walk. It'll warm up and be gone by mid-day, don't you think?" he asked, all at once a flurry of activity.

"It's pretty cold," I said, but I put on my coat and boots, woolen trousers and tunic. "I've never seen anything like it. It's very different from snow."

I took a quick turn in our bathroom, and was surprised to see Vaysh busying himself in the kitchen when I got out.

"Thought I'd put some coffee on so it'll be ready when we get back," he explained. We'd found several unexpected and welcome containers of oil over time and most residences now had working generators. Things that had been luxuries when he'd first arrived were now far more commonplace.

"Awfully nice of you," I said and he gave me a wry smile.

"I like you better after your first cup of coffee."

" I like me better after my first cup of coffee," I agreed as we left the house.

My feet skated and I nearly took a nosedive my first few steps; it took me scant seconds to develop a very healthy appreciation for just how slick the ground was. I warned Vaysh even though he was already quite aware of the treacherous surface under our boots. With shuffling steps, we slowly, cautiously made our way across the courtyard, and then the paved road with its many gaping potholes. The sun wasn't far above the horizon and not very bright, but the effect of any light on the shining branches and shrubs was breathtaking.

"This is unbelievable!" Vaysh said, turning around to gesture at me, a wide smile on his face. He almost lost his footing and slid, nearly stumbling to the frozen ground. His expression snapped to one of intense concentration.

"Be careful!" My heart raced from seeing his near catastrophe. "As beautiful as it is, one misstep and you'll be flat on your ass. I don't want to try and carry you to see Ondin."

"I'm as agile as a cat," he insisted, but I noted gratefully that he was far more cautious as we went into the woods. The path was slightly more easy to traverse, and I held back a bit, taking some time to look around at all of the naked branches, now clad in hard shells of ice. The tinkling, melodious sounds were occasionally overshadowed by a staccatoed barrage as a squirrel or bird shifted a branch. There was the rare crack or groan as a tree complained under the weight of the ice.

Vaysh had gone deeper into the alcove than I wished; my imagination had already gone to Vox or Jaffa, trudging to the dining hall to make breakfast, underestimating the elements, and falling. The sparkling ice was beyond treacherous, and it might not melt until tomorrow, or the day after, and most hara were probably hung over from Natalia—

I heard Vaysh let out a surprised cry and swear loudly as he fell. I grimaced, and hoped to God he hadn't broken anything.

"Are you all right?" I called, shuffling as quickly as I could, which wasn't very fast.

"Yes, but— ow. Fuck!"

I could see he was sprawled out on his stomach, arms stretched out and trying to gain purchase somewhere, when I heard a resounding, thunderous crack. I jerked my head to the side, trying to place where it came from. My gaze whipped back in front of me and I shouted, my stomach clenched instantly into a knot. I watched the terrible, inexorable motion of a heavy limb as it fell, crushing Vaysh with a sickening explosion of ice and cracking bone.

"VAYSH!"

I screamed his name, trying to run and sliding, falling, tears bursting from my eyes as I scrambled to get to him. I scuttled on hands and bruised, aching knees, calling his name again and again. Once I got closer I saw the nauseating trajectory of the branch that had thudded against his spine and skull. He was broken, shattered. With strength borne from abject terror, I heaved the branch away, but the damage to Vaysh's head was— I couldn't bear it. I could barely see him; I couldn't focus through the wet sheen of my eyes. I sounded like a wounded animal as I tried to hold him, blood everywhere.

"Vaysh, Vaysh, Vaysh, ohgodohgod, no, you can't, no, don't go," I sobbed, trying to lift his bludgeoned head into my lap. I saw his chest rise, and fall; clumsily I smeared matted clots of hair out of his closed eyes.

"Vaysh," I pleaded, choking on bile. I was wheezing; the air was a razor in my lungs and I coughed, unable to catch my breath. With what must have been tremendous effort, Vaysh laboriously opened his eyes, but I didn't think he could see me. Wild horror knifed clarity into my thoughts: I needed him to know I was with him.

"Vaysh, it's me, your Ash. For the love of God, don't leave me, I'm here, right here," I said hysterically. I was going insane; Vaysh's blood soaked my lap. The pungent scent of so much blood was an abomination. My vision started to go black, phantom stars were crowding out the atrocity of my beloved, dying. I couldn't move, only chanted his name, over and over and over as my reason seeped into the unforgiving, scarlet stained ice.

A gurgle lodged in his throat; a thick, wet cough coated his mouth and my fingers with more blood. He gasped and stilled, his unseeing gaze locked on mine.

I screamed, bellowing anger and maniacal hopelessness until my voice was a pitiful, unrecognisable mewl. I rocked him in my arms; the world shattered into nightmarish crystalline shards of nothingness.

Vaysh was dead.


. : ~ Epilogue ~ : .

The next year was a threnody for Vaysh. I was inconsolable; I abhorred everyone's company, anyone else's touch was loathsome. In my rages against a world that blithely continued to exist without Vaysh in it, I wished for a human photograph of him, then railed against myself at my own lunatic folly. A picture couldn't have begun to capture even the smallest grain of the endless sands of his being. I thought back to the night when we could have conceived a harling, and wondered if he would have been able to console me, or if it would have twisted the knife too deeply to see Vaysh's likeness in a creation of our own flesh… I obsessed about what our son might have looked like, how it would have been to hold him as together, he and I mourned the loss of his hostling, my chesnari, my beloved. Under the crushing anvil of grief, my heart was ground into a mealy pulp, a quivering mash beating feebly in my chest. It was with relief that I sank into the yawning maw of darkness; I let depression and futility count my days as my body forced me to stay alive. I could have cared less.

I spent the rest of the winter living with Firestorm, Cloudblaze and Firethorn. For a few days after we buried Vaysh, I tormented myself in our home. I pulled all of his clothes from their drawers and covered myself with them in our bed, desperate for his scent which still clung to his tunics and leggings. Polaris finally forced me out of the tomb I'd made for myself. He plied me with bourbon until I couldn't fight him with my fists anymore, and he and Jaffa held me up during the march over to my temporary lodging.

Cloudblaze washed me, a thankless task after the several days I'd lain inert and rank. He combed out my hair and didn't balk when I asked him to shave my head entirely. Firethorn tiptoed around me, his eyes red; he'd never seen anything like the punishment I now suffered, and he felt powerless to help. After a few days when I continued to do nothing but eat when commanded to and heeded my body's demands to expel the extra when necessary, Cloudblaze came into my narrow bed in the room I shared with Thorn. He'd insisted on being there when I woke up yelling, unable to escape the nightmares of Vaysh's death happening in front of me again and again. I could do nothing but receive, and Cloudblaze was astute enough to know I would have gone absolutely mad to take aruna in such a state. He shared breath with me, sending healing images. His taste of windswept sage and leather gently sought out the bottomless fissures in my spirit, filling some of the deepest shadows with his concern and affection.

The months passed. I spent much of the time in a drunken stupor. I stayed in the Nayati for days on end, in silent, morbid brooding. Thiede never came; he didn't send even a flicker of thought to me. Vaysh, however, was everywhere— in the pungent scent of hay and horses; in the heady red of wine; an eternal pulse under my skin. Parallax returned from the Kakkahaar at Natalia and did what nohar else could: he laid hands and heated breath on me. His anguish at seeing me in the pathetic state to which I'd declined was matched by his unwillingness to let it continue. For three days he sequestered me away; we ate, meditated, drank, and took aruna. He poured himself into me with unsurpassed generosity until my will to live had again been set alight.

Arahal arrived the next day.

Zephyr nosed at my hand, his bewilderingly intelligent eyes giving me a message of hope I didn't immediately dismiss out of hand. Castlegar was too full of memories; it was a vibrant tomb, filled with the spirits of my innocence. Parallax kept a small phial of my seed, with my request that he plant a mountain ash at the spot where Vaysh lay in the ground. Once it took root, he was to pour out my essence at its base, the legacy of my love for my chesnari.

I've occasionally felt pity for the hara who have fallen for me in recent years; I feel no need to apologise for how I am, but I've never led anyhar on. I am Ashmael Aldebaran, General of the Gelaming armies in Thiede's service.

Once upon a time, I loved.

Comments

[sexyscholar.livejournal.com]

:cries helplessly:

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

:hands tissues:

Did you skip to the end? Or were you reading this while scarfing down the canon material??

Thanks for reading whatever you have!

[sexyscholar.livejournal.com]

I've been reading (and remiss about commenting) both at the same time. I had to read it; you know that!

I did not, however, know that Vaysh dies.

;________________________;

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

I did not, however, know that Vaysh dies.

But… it's in the first part of the trilogy, though you have to be Vaysh- or Ashmael-centric to pick up on the profundity of it on a first reading:

"What did Ashmael say when he saw you?" I asked. Vaysh's glassy eyes did not flicker.
"Say? What do you think? A long time ago, I died in his arms."

And shortly thereafter, when Pell is badgering Ashmael, there's this, which, truthfully, is where most of my story germinated since it's from Ash's POV. This was also where I knew I had to figure out a particular way for Vaysh to die that was canonically accurate without being a total parallel to Pell (because I didn't want it too, lol):

"Ashmael, you said it's been years since… how do you feel about Vaysh now?"
He shrugged. "Feel? I can still smell his blood, even now. He was so beautiful, so alive. Losing him was like losing life. Everyone worshiped him…" I had gone cold, though the night was warm.
"But now, how do you feel now?" I insisted.
"Now?" Ashmael wrinkled his brow. "Now… something lives in a body that looks like Vaysh, but is it him? I watched him die and spent a year demented with grief. Now? What can I feel? Vaysh is dead."

[sexyscholar.livejournal.com]

Well, I read that...but then Vaysh was...

OH!!!!

I get it now!

[sexyscholar.livejournal.com]

:feels extremely stupid:

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Yes, that second quoted text? Germinated just shy of 50,000 words.

::facepalm::

No, not to be feeling stupid. It's only if, say, one is really, really into the text that you go poring through the canon material. You've got to understand: this is what I did in my Tolkien fics, so I'm used to gleaning whole long stories from snippets of canon text.

And how much angst when I move on to Vaysh! There's this, OMG:

"What has Thiede done to you?"
He gave me a sad smile. "Oh, Pellaz. You know. You've suspected haven't you? I'm burnt out. At best, barren and at worst gutted. No, you were not the first…"

Hence why I was even more cruel in my story by having had 'my' Vaysh nearly have a harling before his death. Who stopped them? Thiede. Who brings Vaysh back to life? Thiede. Who makes Vaysh barren? Thiede. Who makes Vaysh take care of the person who survived Thiede's arunistic onslaught? Oh, Thiede. :P

[suryallee.livejournal.com]

... Ok, I officically loathe Thiede!
Other then that, I wish I could hug Ash...poor hara, both of them. And to think of it that Vaysh will be barren later... I really would love to kick Thiede right now.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

And to think of it that Vaysh will be barren later...

Yeah, I'd had that scene of their prohibited procreation nearly from the beginning of when I started writing, just to twist the knife even more once Vaysh is brought back to life.

As for Thiede: I imagine that he really did want them to get their harish behinds to Immanion, and as we know, he did intend for Vaysh to be Tigron. What slays me (and I don't understand this at all) is that he doesn't seem even to apologize to Vaysh. He keeps Vaysh's re-creation a secret from Ashmael, and Ashmael turns his back on Vaysh, not Thiede! I'm going to have to post about this at raythoo, because I can't fathom Ashmael's thinking.

Thanks for reading and being so enthusiastic from the beginning!

[(Anonymous)]

*I cant fathom Ashmaels thinking*
Well...I thought long about that too, want to know my two cents in this?
1 We all know how manipulate Thiede is, It gives an slight chance that he manipulated Ash in this because he still did need Vaysh and him in different ways/ apart.
2 A psychical breakdown. And thats my personal favorite version. I think he simply refused to believe him alive again. Vaysh was different when he met Ash again...in more ways then one! And the worst of all, he was barren and out burned from Thiedes powerful Aruna/ powers in general.
I think his psyche (Ash) could simply not cope with all of that. So, he put up a mask, just like Vaysh too, and tried to prevent himself from even more harm of the soul. What makes me always sad in this is, that Ash never tried to fight his inner fears and tried to be with him again.
But Vaysh isn´t better, he too tries all that he can to not let Ash back into his heart , that he believes is dead.
Its a psychical problem I believe.

[suryallee.livejournal.com]

Sorry^^; the anonymous was me^^;
*I cant fathom Ashmaels thinking*
Well...I thought long about that too, want to know my two cents in this?
1 We all know how manipulate Thiede is, It gives an slight chance that he manipulated Ash in this because he still did need Vaysh and him in different ways/ apart.
2 A psychical breakdown. And thats my personal favorite version. I think he simply refused to believe him alive again. Vaysh was different when he met Ash again...in more ways then one! And the worst of all, he was barren and out burned from Thiedes powerful Aruna/ powers in general.
I think his psyche (Ash) could simply not cope with all of that. So, he put up a mask, just like Vaysh too, and tried to prevent himself from even more harm of the soul. What makes me always sad in this is, that Ash never tried to fight his inner fears and tried to be with him again.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

What makes me always sad in this is, that Ash never tried to fight his inner fears and tried to be with him again.

That's what I remember, too, but I'm going to need to re-read parts of the second trilogy to see if they never even glance at each other, or if they conceivably could get together later on.

And yes, thank you for your thoughts!! I still think that once Ashmael realizes that Thiede re-created Vaysh after he died and Thiede made him barren (and didn't apologize!!) and Thiede never bothered to tell him (Ash) that he'd re-created his chesnari, that Ashmael might just want to go swing a machete at the Aghama, y'know?? And yet, instead, canonically he keeps serving Thiede and gives Vaysh the cold shoulder, as though he requested Thiede to do all of these awful things to him. It's going to be rough to write, because I just can't understand Ashmael's thinking. Thank you again for your perspective, that helps!

[camile-sinensis.livejournal.com]

I can't fathom Ashmael's thinking

I think the what we have to keep in mind is that by the time Ashmael finds out what really happened to Vaysh, it's years - decades - later, and he's come to terms with Vaysh's death. He's done his grieving, and he's moved on. And when he does finally encounter the re-incarnated Vaysh, in his mind, it's not really Vaysh, because the real Vaysh is dead, which is why he has no interest in picking up where they left off. It's too long ago, and there's been too much water under the bridge for him to go back to feeling how he did before. In fact, he's actively repulsed by what he sees as a simulacrum of the har he used to know.

Also, Thiede didn't actually kill Vaysh. Or Pell, for that matter. Granted, he almost certainly had some sort of foreknowledge of their deaths, and did nothing to avert them (because it suited his plans to have them die!), but that's not the same thing. What Thiede did was was ressurect Vaysh. If he hadn't, Vaysh would still be dead. Thiede gave him his life back, and attempted to make him into something more than he was before. The process didn't work properly (probably because Vaysh wasn't the right har - what Thiede really needed was the OMG-Speshul-Pellaz! ;-) and Vaysh was left with some damage - although more psychological than physical, but he's alive when might not have been, so it's not really surprising that Thiede doesn't think he has anything to apologise for.

So Ashmael knows that Thiede didn't kill Vaysh, and having been a professional soldier for many years, he understands all too well the concept of civilian casualties - even when he himself is one of those casualties. He's worked with Thiede for many years, builing the new Wraeththu civilisation, because he believes in Thiede's plans for the future. He knows its either that, or anarchy. The professional soldier in him knows that his own private tragedy is less imporant than the Big Picture.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

:nods:
I still think that although Ashmael has moved on, he might harbor a lingering question as to why Thiede would never tell him, "By the way, I resurrected your chesnari, and hid him away for a couple of decades."

I understand that he comes around and supports Thiede in the building of the new Wraeththu society based/headquartered in Immanion, but I still believe that Ashmael may (even if only in my own gap-filling mind) have had some kind of Serious Discussion with Thiede after he sees the resurrected Vaysh, along the lines of, "So. Were you ever going to tell me? Why did you keep that a secret?" It's not even so much Thiede's plans behind it, but that he doesn't tell Ashmael what he's done. I'll just formulate my own interpretation.

Thank you so very much for your insights! Every bit helps me out, truly. ♥

[gingerspark.livejournal.com]

gotta say "ditto" here on what camile_senensis says
Thiede doesn't kill or arrange the deaths of either Pell or Vaysh but he does have some prior knowledge (and has prepared for their deaths) and does nothing to stop "fate".

Also in a later book, Ash (while speaking to Cal) says that he just can't think of Vaysh as the har he once knew and loved - he sees him as some sort of zombie... and Vaysh's presence sort of freaks him out. *shrugs* I know I'd be pretty freaked out if +10years after he died - hubby showed up. LOL I'd have to give up my boytoys hehehehehe

He may have questions about Vaysh/thiede etc... but he is definitely not interested in rekindling things. It took between 5-7 years after Pell was shot to "rebuild him" (I'm having 2 million dollar man flashbacks LOL) and who knows how long it was between Vaysh being killed, rebuilt, and deemed "unsuitable" and Pell's demise.

Also... I wonder why Vaysh didn't push about Ash... he "remembers" but he doesn't make an effort to seek Ash out or send him a messsage ("oh hei! Ash, I'm alive btw)

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Also... I wonder why Vaysh didn't push about Ash... he "remembers" but he doesn't make an effort to seek Ash out or send him a messsage ("oh hei! Ash, I'm alive btw)

Eeeek. Yes, I'll need to get Vaysh's mindset firmly entrenched before I write too much, because that's just as valid a question. Or perhaps he demands that Thiede let him see Ashmael, and Thiede says no, or says that Ashmael has moved on. ::digs knife::

[camile-sinensis.livejournal.com]

I think it's perfectly plausible that Ashmael would want to know why Thiede did what he did, but equally, I'm sure that Ashmael knows Thiede well enough to know that he won't get any answers. Theide never explains himself! Not that it wouldn't be interesting to see Ash try to get some answers by way of a Serious Discussion!

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Theide never explains himself! Not that it wouldn't be interesting to see Ash try to get some answers by way of a Serious Discussion!

Yes, indeed. Maybe way off in the future Ashmael and Vaysh can have some kind of discussion in which Ashmael explains just that, that he did try to get answers, and Thiede simply chose not to provide them.

[gingerspark.livejournal.com]

::sniffles::



but I can't help still loving Thiede.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

::hands out tissues::

I have no words for Thiede. Except that he's incredibly manipulative and he's torn apart the lives of two hara that I grew to love while writing their story. :P Still, Vaysh will have some tender moments with him before being nearly annihilated. After that, forget it!

Thank you for reading! It means a lot. I don't usually jump into a fandom with a just-shy-of-50,000 words novella! ;)

[kaenguma.livejournal.com]

this.

this was extremely beautiful - and so sad. you've really written how it could've been. and now I wish more than ever that they will have a story where their love will reunite...

how I love this pairing. so tragic, so sad, still so much in love.

thanks for writing this.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

I'm so thrilled that you were moved by this! They are indeed tragic; as I continue on I will probably re-read the second trilogy and see if there is, in fact, a way for them to reunite far off in the distance. But first, more Angst!!! ;)

Thank you so very much for reading this! I know that it takes a bit of trust to read a new author, so thank you for coming along on the journey with me.

[kaenguma.livejournal.com]

I have to thank you for writing this!

and it doesn't have to do anything with trust - if one writes in such a beautiful, skillful way like you do, it's simply the joy of reading which keeps the readers :)

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

I'm treasuring your comment forever!!! ♥

[camile-sinensis.livejournal.com]

*joins queue for tissues and blows nose noisily*

Wow, that was quite... shockingly unexpected. Even though I was expecting it!

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

::hands more tissues::

I'm so pleased that it came across as shockingly unexpected! I spent an inordinate amount of time trying to figure out how he could die where there was a lot of blood (since Ashmael mentions the smell of Vaysh's blood) without it being a nearly-100% parallel to Pellaz/Cal. Having been in an ice storm myself, this fit the bill.

I'm so gratified that you read this, truly, especially since I'm a new author to the Wraeththu community.

[camile-sinensis.livejournal.com]

I've always thought that Pell's death was a bit... banal. Okay, it haunted Cal for years, and you can understand why, but as a reader, there isn't really much drama. Vaysh's death as you've written it here is very much more visceral, and you can understand why Ashmael would remember it so vividly years later - the details, the smell of the blood and the horror and everything.

We need more writers! (ie, I need my fix of new Wraeththu material! ;-) And being "new" to a community doesn't make you any less a valid member!

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you very much for your kind comments about my, well, killing of Vaysh. :cringe: I debated about having a small bit afterwards, because Tharmifex and Arahal are there, and having them interact with him (especially since I'm nearly 100% sure it was Tharmifex who lets Ashmael in on the fact that Thiede has been trying to resurrect hara already), but then decided it would be too much.

More writers would be wonderful! I keep hoping that I'll see new fic from you. :D :D :D I am so glad to have found raythoo; and glad to have met kind souls like yourself thanks to it.

[elfscribe5.livejournal.com]

Oh that was a superb piece of fanfic in every way. You obviously really thought through the canon material and reinterpreted it in ways that made sense and caused me to think, yes, this is right, and you did so with poetic, original language, interesting plot, engaging characters and setting - oh and not to mention just smooshing up my heart there at the end. Arggg.

I like that you started out light with the humor of the three of them playing in the pond and then relaxing in post-coital bliss (that was a hot little moment with Vaysh fondling Parallax)but at the same time conveying information about picking a tribal name and hopes for the future. I liked that through the story Ash slowly accepts his great love for Vaysh, even though he has some conflict because he believes that to be a true har, he isn't supposed to feel the way he does. Little does he know that the true cost of losing his soul mate is not that he will be less harrish but that he will lose what matters most in life and he will not be whole as a result. I liked the friendly bets that masked the deeper meaning behind the little test of whether or not Vaysh would also get a tattoo and liked that Vaysh rose to the occasion.
Then their moment when they decide to create a harling that is interrupted by Thiede - that was some nice foreshadowing and also made Vaysh becoming barren as a result of Thiede's experimentation even more devastating. Such regrets about what might have been. Vaysh, I'm sure will acutely realize how much happiness and fulfillment he has lost as a result. I liked that Thiede tries to mask his interference by elevating the intensity of the aruna - almost as if he's a magician pulling a sleight of hand, 'pay no attention to the man behind the curtain' but focus on this instead. It is an excellent characterization of Thiede, who can "grease the wheels of life itself." I think you have him nailed and I'm quite impressed. I don't know that I would have come up with that little distraction. I also like that your Ash doesn't buy it and realizes right away who is manipulating him. Your Ash is smart. I like smart characters. And he doesn't like being manipulated. "I felt battered and ravaged, chewed up and most importantly, warned." You're right, you'll have to reconcile that characterization somehow when you write in Ash's head again.

I also loved your poetic use of words, like: "winter had just curled its frosty toes into the ground" or "wilds of plum and musty shadow" or "clad in hard shells of ice."
Again, you had that little foreshadowing of Vaysh slipping before the limb falls on him and the ice storm with ice encasing all the living things also beautifully foreshadows what will happen to Vaysh. And then oh that whole death scene is just so agonizing and well done. I appreciated the epilogue too - the very vivid and emotionally true account of Ash's attempt to heal from such a terrible loss, his need to get away from the place that was "filled with the spirits of his innocence" and his transformation to Ashmael Aldebaran, General of the Gelaming. Your final sentence really got to me. It shows simply and powerfully that Ash was just as burned by this experience emotionally as Vaysh later becomes physically. Ash is now a shell of what he once was - the innocent and trusting lover. "Once upon a time, I loved."
*cries*

My comment got too long - heh - so it is continued below.

[elfscribe5.livejournal.com]

I read the debate about Thiede above with interest. It is a good question - how much does Thiede manipulate events. I always thought that Thiede engineered the events that led to Pell's death, not just that he knew it was coming and hung around to pick up the pieces and use them for his own schemes. Certainly Cal blames Thiede completely, figuring that Thiede had been watching them all along and when Cal and Pell realized they were chesna, it interfered with Thiede's plan and he had to take Cal out of the equation by killing Pell. As I said, I don't remember enough about the Histories to remember if Thiede's position is explained or justified. I think Thiede is like a god playing with his ant farm, or a scientist doing experiments on rats. He manipulates events and his hara in service of his greater vision, without regard to feelings of individuals. He thinks it is all for a just cause - the new world order. However, a god who does not feel compassion and love is ultimately barren himself.

Thank you for allowing me to think about all this and for so thoroughly entertaining me with your fine story.
I look forward to more.
Hugs

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

I can't tell you how glad I am to have had you along as a reader!! I'm pleased you found it intelligent, and thought-provoking, true to canon, and still evocative. That means the world to me.

Ashmael and Vaysh are so tragic, each in their own way; certainly the message from The Author in this sense seems to be: love at your own risk, because there's a very good chance it'll be taken away from you, or something else equally horrific will happen. In fact, now that I think about it, there are no happily ever afters. For anyone. Even couples who seem eventually to be well settled and love each other with equality end up suffering all sorts of other things— now thinking of Ulaume and Flick, their son, and his chesnari, Swift and Seel's son, who, when we last see them, may not even survive. What a devastating lesson. I'll have to see if I do write a third story about Ash and Vaysh and if so, whose POV will it be (hopefully a third party), and will they get together again??
(((hugs you))) I remain so grateful that this story introduced me to you. What an amazing gift, and I'm just thrilled that you enjoyed it so.

[haldoor.livejournal.com]

Hi! I've recently read the original three Wraeththu novels and have been totally captured by the landscape and the incredible characters inhabiting it, so naturally, whilst seeking out the rest of Storm's books, I've been searching about online... and how wonderful to have found some gorgeous fanfic here in LJ! Your story is gorgeous - you have an incredible way with words and your stories are so atmospheric, I can almost believe I'm still living in the original world created by Storm herself!

I've just worked my way through this novella and I wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed it! Thanks so much for sharing! I see you have started a sequel of sorts with Vaysh and I will be eagerly following it too! May I friend you so that I don't miss anything?

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Isn't the first trilogy just marvelous?! It's certainly a much smaller fandom than one you've doubtless been involved in, given your name. ;) It also means there's not as much fanfic, in as many definitive genres, but there are some lovely stories out there. I'm quite gratified that you enjoyed Malestrom & Mage, and am glad to have you along for the sequel from Vaysh's POV. Friend away! I'll do the same. Always pleased to have another reader; I'm finding that my style and approach for writing Wraeththu fanfiction far more resembles my mindset when I was writing a lot of Tolkien-based fanfiction than my recent years of HP.

Welcome!! ♥

::d'oh!::

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

I just realized I saw "Haldor" instead of "Haldoor" and immediately thought you were a Tolkien fan. Sorry!!! Perhaps you are, however! ;)

Re: ::d'oh!::

[haldoor.livejournal.com]

Don't worry, easy enough mistake to make! Truth to be told, I am a Tolkien fan, although I really had slipped away until the movies came out, then I finally got my act together and read the LOTR trilogy properly. The name, however, has nothing to do with it, though my initial fandom here in LJ was LOTRips! I had no idea of the coincidence with the name until I had been here a while and realised how close it was to Haldir. I've had the moniker far longer than I'd been aware and really hadn't thought of it at all in relation to the story! ('Hal' and 'door' come from '2001, A Space Odyssey' and are partially to do with my RL name, you see!).

Anyway, thanks for friending me, I certainly am looking forward to more of Vaysh' POV (and today and yesterday I worked my way through the first book in the second trilogy of Storm's! I'm hooked again!)

[wiebke.livejournal.com]

Do be sure to send this (and Down the Whispering Well) to me so I can post on Forever. I really love your work.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for your kind comments about my writing. I'm terribly flattered!! I'll have to wait until DtWW is actually finished, of course... I'm only just getting started in it. Poor Vaysh will have to get through meeting Pell and all of that and the moment of reckoning of seeing Ashmael again before it's all said and done. But of course I'll be thrilled to send it over once complete.

[heartofoshun.livejournal.com]

This is a cut-and-paste of a comment I left on the Forever Wraeththu site, but I am copying here because I want to make sure you receive it.

First, I should tell you that I have not read the books upon which this novella is based. I came to read this story and have ordered the first books in the series on a recommendation from Elfscribe. I am certainly grateful for that. What a beautiful introduction to this world. I adore the way you capture these characters and seamlessly draw me into their universe. From the first paragraphs you led me to accept that this is a stories of beginnings and yet also one of impending loss of innocence. The transition between human and har in these young men is palpable. You give the sense that while inception is irrevocable it, in fact, is only the beginning of their realization of who they are and what they have become. And their conception of it is one of wonder mixed with fear and idealism.

The meeting of Ashmael with Vaysh and his companions is illuminscent: “as haughty and distant as the stars, radiant and far off. ” You give the reader an immediate stake in these characters and totally hook one into caring about what will happen between Ashmael and Vaysh. It is redolent with foreshadowing and bittersweetness even for someone who has not read the books and has no idea of the outcome. The erotic scenes are lush and so lush and glowing. There are so many things right about how you interpret emotions and attachments. If I were try to catalogue the instances where you left me breathless I wouldn’t know where to stop. I give you just one line for starters that completely knocked my socks off. “I knew that he knew what word trembled in me. At last, with the kindness of an executioner, he relieved my agony. Yours. ” Congratulations on gripping storytelling wonderfully executed. I cannot recommend this highly enough. So looking forward to the continuation of this story in your newest WIP.

P.S. I've friended you. Please friend me back so I won't miss any of your updates.

[thrihyrne.livejournal.com]

Oh my goodness. I can't tell you how pleased and gratified I am at your effusive commentary and feedback! I'm thrilled that you read my novella, especially since you haven't read the source material! That's high praise right there, and quite brave of you, to boot. ;) I do recommend the first trilogy, of course, as I'd love for you to know the context in which the canon characters emerge. Thank you so very much for your incredibly generous feedback and letting me know that you feel my writing is of high caliber. You've made my month, truly. Thank you for quoting back some of it that struck you (I do love that you picked that line; it was a favorite when I wrote it and I'm so pleased that it resonated vividly with you as well!); I always want to know what particular images and insights into the characters strike my readers.

I'm about to go and friend you right now. :D As you know, I'm writing the sequel which is from Vaysh's POV, and the entirety of their story has a very not-happy-ending to it. I'll be ecstatic to have you along for the sequel as well.

I'm now going to print out your very kind words and savor them, yet again!!! :)

[heartofoshun.livejournal.com]

You've made my month, truly.

No. You made my month! I am already following your sequel and undoubtedly will comment it also, although I am a little shy not having read the originals. (Hopefully my Amazon order of the first trilogy will come through any day now.) I also read your recent one-shot and liked it very much also.

I am laughing at the idea you said you were printing the comment, since it is riddled with typos (blush, blush). My apologies for that.