"Down the Whispering Well," post 5
Apr. 8th, 2008 09:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneTitle: Down the Whispering Well
This post rating: adult
Warnings: usual angst
Word Count: 3435
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 (historic); this post, Vaysh/Velaxis
Novella summary: Being brought back from the dead doesn't mean happily ever after, especially if you're Vaysh. Life has its costs, and he pays dearly. An exploration of Vaysh's character in the years before and through Pellaz's transformation, and the burdens he endures, because he must.
Post summary: As Vaysh, Firethorn and Jaffa leave the cold place and travel to begin a new life in Ferelithia, Velaxis continues to be surprising. Continued from post 4, here.
i not not you
not possible;
only truthful
-truthfully,once
if strangers(who
deep our most are
selves)touch:
forever
(and so to dark)
~ from "once like a spark (XXIV)" by e e cummings
* * * * *
"More coffee?" Firethorn asked, walking around the small table with the carafe as though he were a serving-hara.
"Yes, thank you." Velaxis held up his cup.
I watched their exchange with bemusement. Firethorn — and Jaffa — were fairly informal in their interactions with nearly everyone, regardless of intimated rank or station. Firethorn was intrigued by Velaxis, more so after, months ago, I'd confirmed that we'd taken aruna together. Velaxis had also carried letters back and forth from the chesnari to Thorn's parents and Jaffa's brother Wycker on two occasions. Now we were off on this new adventure, or so they saw it. I saw a large chessboard, with pieces being moved from square to square. I was a toppled King, put back onto the playing field as a pawn. Velaxis seemed to care about me, though, the Queen lingering behind me with more strength, and flexibility of movement. I accepted a refill on my coffee while stopping the chess analogy. The next piece I would wonder about was the Knight, and that wouldn't do, especially now that I'd be living ever nearer to him. Not that it mattered.
"What's Ferelithia like?" Jaffa asked Velaxis, who blew across the top of his cup before sipping the hot liquid.
"Warm. Colourful. Light-hearted. You'll fit right in." Jaffa started to frown until he realised Velaxis wasn't making fun. "I'm not Thiede. I am his closest assistant, but that doesn't mean he and I sit around over bottles of wine while he tells me every detail and every thought going on in that phenomenal mind of his."
"I didn't think—" Jaffa started to say before Velaxis interrupted him with an easy wave.
"I know you didn't. You're refreshingly transparent. You and Firethorn, both. The more Immanion comes together, with the harish pangs of its court and citizenry, the more potential for factions and unrest. Thiede's going to put himself in a bind, and he knows it, which is why he's doing things which don't necessarily seem to make sense."
"In plain speech, please?" Firethorn asked, shaking his head. "We're nobodies, really, just friends of Vaysh."
The unspoken 'and Ashmael' sounded in the air as clearly as the ticking of the wooden clock on the wall. Velaxis gave me a brief, sympathetic glance before soldiering on.
"Thiede wants his best and brightest hara near to him. But he also wants hara with those qualities he values to be spread out all over as our race thinks about settling down and not acting like savages."
He pressed the few crumbs on his plate onto the pad of a long, pale finger, and then sucked them off gently in his mouth. This time Thorn gave me a furtive smile, but his was of the 'nudge, nudge, wink' variety. Doubtless he thought Velaxis and I would get to Frerelithia and spend a night engaged in mind-boggling passion. I'd been able to tell from the moment Velaxis had shown up an hour or so ago that this trip was strictly for business.
"Well, I don't like being uprooted after not even a year, but if we're supposed to go, then we will," Jaffa said nonchalantly, until a look of horror flew across his features. "He wouldn't split us up, would he?"
The pang hit my heart with the strength of a firebolt.
"Thiede does not care so much for hara and their loves." I turned in shock to look at Feslavit after his comment. He shrugged mordantly. "It is true. He does not have a chesnari, he thinks that is too much like humankind. We can pair off, or have multiple loves, it is of nothing to him. Am I not right?" he asked Velaxis sharply.
The unflappable har seemed monentarily as at a loss for words as everyone else. Velaxis was closest to Thiede for a reson, however, and he smoothed over the upset in a flash.
"You of all sentimental hara should know that isn't true," he said brusquely, pushing away from the table to stand up. I'd never seen Velaxis when he was on the defensive, though it rippled and transformed to power. He stood straight as an aspen, the words cutting to the quick; they were talon strikes of a panther. "He doesn't have the luxury of giving his heart to only one har, but you, Feslavit, you know his feelings for Vaysh weren't sterile in the least or he wouldn't be sitting here now. We hara have tremendous capacity in all things: love, hate, jealousy, art, catastrophe and bliss. You are fortunate to be har, and I'd thank you not to speak poorly of the one who gave you such gifts. I'll be outside. It's time to go."
The four of us looked at each other in the ensuing silence after Velaxis strode out of the room.
"Well," Firethorn said, all eloquence.
"C'mon. Guess we shouldn't draw this out." Jaffa got up roughly from the table, obviously unsettled. He pulled Feslavit into a hug after he, too, had moved to stand. "Thanks for everything. Tell Grimska and Noric good-bye for us. I bet we'll see you all again."
"Perhaps." Feslavit's voice was heavy with a rasp, due to keeping his feelings shunted off to the side. I knew that caustic sensation well.
"Kervad, too," Firethorn chimed in as he made his way to the entrance hall.
I was left alone with Feslavit, who resembled a dog recently kicked by its master, whimpering in a corner wondering what he'd done wrong.
"I'll be back," I said, though I had no idea whether or not that was true.
"I hope so." He held me in an embrace. Strangely, I felt like the one with strength and I let it flow into him as we shared breath. "You have part of my winter," he said sadly as I pulled away.
"It suits me."
He ran his thumb over my cheekbone, just looking; memorising, perhaps. I would miss him in a way, but if there was one lesson Theide seemed determined to beat into me, it was that of impermanence. There wasn't anything else to say, and I was thankful he'd not become mawkish. It might come later, but I wouldn't be there to see it.
The Otherlanes filled me with the jewels of their madness, and even the alien affection of melding thought with Tassia lightened my spirit. Ferelithia was warm, and sunny, a lifetime away from the cold dirzzle we'd left behind outside of the stone fortress. Sun poured generously down as we exploded victoriously onto the red earth. Firethorn had whooped his exaltation; though I'd not yelled, a similar cry of happiness thrummed in my blood. Jaffa's copper spirals glistened with the clinging frosts of the universe, his freckles standing boldly across his face which began to flush with the sudden increase in temeprature.
"Where are we going to stay?" I asked Velaxis, nudging Tassia forward so we walked next to him. The town ahead had a stone wall, but the salty scent of the sea and perfumes of flowers pulled invitingly with the strength of a hundred magnets.
"There's an inn with a keeper who keeps his thoughts somewhat to himself," Velaxis said, lightness in his expression. Going through the Otherlanes seemed to put everyone in brazen spirits, even if it did fade away quickly. "I'll be going back to Immanion as soon as you're settled."
That answered my unasked question. I hadn't thought there'd be a repeat of that time at Natalia, and while I was relieved, a part of me regretted it, too.
The town was the antithesis of the cold land where I'd been living, though Tollsend in summer was vibrant in its own way. We hadn't packed all that much; Jaffa and Firethorn hadn't brought a lot from Castlegar though they now had heavy furs and some tokens from their time with me in the north. At an inn set away in a quieter part of the vivacious city we got comfortable in our two rooms while Velaxis sat downstairs in the bar. Our next step was to stable the sedim for a few hours while Velaxis gave us a hasty overview of the town and discreetly handed us each a purse heavy with coinage I didn't recognise.
"It's enough to get you all on your feet. You'll need to find some trade to engage in after a while, but there are plenty of jobs and you each have skills that are needed in a growing city like Ferelithia. The Fereliths are showy and like fine things."
"So— this is it?" Jaffa asked, scratching at his scalp, and then guesturing vaguely at the cobbled streets, the red-roofed houses sitting sleepily under the warm sun.
"For now," Velaxis replied cryptically. "I think you'll enjoy being here; the hara are easygoing in temperament. You and Firethorn will fit right in."
I felt out of place, but was determined not to let my emotions get out of control and consume the well-being that had nestled in my chest.
"Vaysh, I'd like to go back to the inn and speak with you alone."
I nodded my acceptance; Firethorn said they'd come and get me for dinner. They took their leave and wondered off down the street, Jaffa's arm slung around Thorn's waist. Though a study in contrasts, with Firethorn's ruddy skin and dark hair, and Jaffa's pale complexion and orange ringlets, their hearts beat only for one another. Melancholy creeped back out from its sanctuary and settled in my pulse, almost purring. Don't be ungrateful, I heard, again.
"Vaysh?"
I snapped out of my reverie; Velaxis' true voice was in my ear.
"Yes?"
He regarded me dispassionately, for which I was grateful. He was an enigma, but I trusted that almost more than any other quality that could have been more blatant, and therefore, more false.
"Let's go. They have quite good wine; I'll ask for some from the innkeeper and we can have some out on the balcony."
As we walked through the cheery streets, I found myself more at peace in his presence, willing to ask questions I hadn't before. "What do you really think of Immanion?"
He leveled his gaze at me, one eyebrow raised. Black pearls were woven into his white-blond hair; for all of the Otherlanes travel he'd undertaken today, he looked as polished as ever.
"I think it's too early to tell," he said evenly. "It's being shaped differently because you're not there as Tigron. I don't say that to make you feel badly," he went on in haste.
I was stunned, and almost gaped at him. He cared about my feelings —? He was also probably one of the only hara there who had any idea whatsoever that I'd been intended to lead, or act as a a figurehead, anyway.
"I don't," I finally said. "But thank you for saying that. Your kindness means a lot."
A rare, open smile graced his lips. "I have reserves of tenderness for you. You didn't ask for the hurts that have come to you, and I can only guess that at times you feel you've been put in an untenable situation."
By now I was flabbergasted. "That's an eloquent way to put it."
We ambled down the street, the inn ahead and on the right. I'd seen hara from tribes I knew I couldn't identify, some dressed in quite gaudy attire. There were also a few human women. I felt sticky and out of sorts, like I'd faen into a web of disorientation and each glance around confirmed I couldn't get out. Until I looked over at Velaxis, that was, who'd changed in moments from tentative ally to anchor. My frantic needs must have been glaring to him, though he merely took my arm and guided my faltering steps.
Once at the inn he purchased a bottle of white wine and asked for two glasses. The innkeeper gave us a knowing look, but made no lewd commentary. My heart was starting to race; I wondered just what the fuck was wrong with me. I wasn't driven like this anymore, I was in control, dammit, I was…
When the door shut I was on Velaxis with the passion of the near-dead on his saviour. He managed to get the bottle and glasses safely out of the way, but only just. My eyes were blinded by tears; I needed proof that I wasn't as broken as I felt. I ached for him to breathe on the tiny spark he'd lit three-quarters of a year ago. I was near a breaking point, of sanity or despair, I wasn't sure and didn't care.
"It's okay, let it out," Velaxis said, his voice a lusty growl though his eyes harboured deep caring. I made wordless cries of anguished need, of frustraton at our clothes and the consuming, burning want that throbbed angrily deep between my legs. There was so much that had been taken from me, and this, too, would leave a gaping wound, but Velaxis understood. He wouldn't tell and he wouldn't lie and he wouldn't placate and he wouldn't take anything but pleasure— and that was enough.
Clothes were torn away, lips claimed and the breath gusted out of him, filling me with his unique taste. He bit and sucked at the base of my neck. For a few seconds I thought back wildly to the vampire joke Firethorn and I had shared. I was soume and ready to devour him; he intuited everything. As before, I was transparent to him; he knew what I was scrabbling for even as he rutted against my hip, my back pressed up against the unforgiving wall.
He was stronger than he looked, or I was lighter than I realised. When he shared the images he did, I groaned at the rightness of it and demanded he hoist me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He angled his vibrant ouana-lim and thrust into me, hard. It was sublime; I was greedy and raucous and grabbed his hair in my fists.
"Ow, that hurts," he said through gritted teeth.
"Sorry," I painted and realised even in my lust-drenched haze the strain on his arms. "Can we go to the bed?"
He carried us over, still joined, each step jarring his shaft against my inner muscles. It was madness, and exquisite agony. Velaxis sat and fell backwards, letting me ride him, to consume him with the clenching maw of my soume-lam as long as I could.
"Let it out," he said again, his voice gravelly with his own passion. "You're not dead inside. Let me burn for you."
"God!" I cried out, unable to look at the heat radiating from his gaze. "I'm not strong enough."
"You. Are," he grunted, his calm mannerisms lost, his attentions focussed solely on taking me to a point of near-brutal ecstacy. Torrents of memories battered me like hailstones. Velaxis was a dark angel, his wings of desire beating like a thunderous heartbeat. He burst into orgasm, and the energy drove me through my own release. Half-crazed, I cried out Ashmael's name.
Breathing heavily, the room slowly re-asserted itself into my reality, as well as the very non-Ashmael face looking up at me.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I practically frothed via mind-touch.
"Vaysh, it's okay," Velaxis said aloud, using his hands to soothe me, clasping mine in his. I crumpled, all dignity lost as I tried to extricate myself without damaging his quite beautiful ouana-lim and wishing a hole would appear to swallow me up.
"Fucking hell," I murmured, curling up into a ball, my language hearkening back to my earliest harish days. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"Look at me."
I had no pride; I couldn't bear to do so. He had — again — reached out in ways no one else could, and I repaid him by calling out…
"Was there a ritual saying when you were incepted?"
I was so surprised at the question I feebly turned over. "In blood, in fire, into forever," I said automatically, wishing for a knife to gouge a new scar, or to cut out my heart and offer it up.
"Interesting. Are you Uigenna?"
"I just called you by my ches— my former chesnari's name, and you're asking about my tribal background?"
"I needed to distract you. It worked," he said, a smug satisfaction in his voice. His face was flushed, his silken white hair a tousled, sensual mess. He didn't seem offended.
"I think I need a towel," I said, suddenly sheepish but sensing my dignity crawling back out from under whatever rock it had taken shelter.
Velaxis nodded. "I'll pour us some wine. I do want to talk with you; that wasn't a lie. I could tell that you needed to unleash yourself first."
"There's that eloquent language again," I said, startled that I was jovial enough to be flippant. His arunic skills were singularly effective; as I toweled away the evidence of our coupling, I had a moment of sadness that the force of his seed didn't stay in me. I couldn't create life, but everything else from Velaxis' body seemed to have healing effects on me. Maybe some of the fluids from within his forceful organ flickered deep within my scarred soume-lam, tiny embers of light in such a dark place.
"Thiede is going to need you," he said after we'd dressed and sat out on the balcony. The wine was crisp, and welcome. Creepers with trumpet-like, crimson flowers wound themselves up a drainpipe, adding colour and a sweet aroma to the ambiance.
"You will know what to do when those times come. Don't try and shut him out. First off, it's fruitless. Secondly, even though your experience with him was… traumatic…"
I was gratified that he fumbled for an appropriate word.
"Your caste was propelled forward because of it. There's a tremendous amount of strength and spiritual sophistication in you. Away from Feslavit, who was very kind, but he wanted to coddle you, you can explore those abilities. I hope you will; you'll need them."
I'd remained silent, sipping the tart wine. Velaxis had scoured me out with our aruna; his shared breath had cleansed away accumulated despondency and wiped away the stagnating pools of ennui. I owed him the vitality I felt, the ability to really listen and take my upcoming tasks to heart, whenever they did occur.
"I will. Thank you, Velaxis," I said softly, resting a hand atop his and giving the fingers a gentle squeeze.
He curled his fingers around them; I craved their warmth. He gifted me with a brave smile and I was heartened. "The name you shouted," he said. "It wasn't so much for love, or loss of it."
"It wasn't?" My voice cracked.
"No, Vaysh. It was a battle cry."
* * * * *
I begged off of dinner that evening, fabricating stomach cramps. Firethorn insisted on coming into my room and seeing me in the flesh to make certain I hadn't made my lodging into a den for brooding. The scent of aruna still hung tenaciously in the air and a secretive smile of approval flitted on his face.
"Okay. But you're having breakfast with us tomorrow, no matter what."
I agreed demurely and he left. With a deep exhale, I went over to my bag. After Velaxis had taken his leave, I'd crashed, sleeping for a couple of hours, quite an extraordinary feat for me. I opened the rugged pack to find my sleeping clothes and my hand closed around a delicate piece of silver. I pulled out the amber phoenix pendant Feslavit had caught me admiring over a year ago. The amber, tiger's eye and garnet were as beautiful as I remembered when I'd first seen it. I found the acompanying piece of paper after rummaging a bit through the pack, just a simple note.
I caressed the necklace in my fingers before putting it on and admiring it in the mirror which hung over the bathroom sink. After a few moments of staring at the craftwork, I went to my personal, small bag, the one I hadn't let anyone else meddle in, and withdrew the small tin of tiger balm crystals and a needle. Once I'd readied the drug, I shot it into my arm, letting the fierce calm of it ease through my body. I poured myself the last of the wine and drank it slowly, blissfully thinking of nothing at all.
This post rating: adult
Warnings: usual angst
Word Count: 3435
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 (historic); this post, Vaysh/Velaxis
Novella summary: Being brought back from the dead doesn't mean happily ever after, especially if you're Vaysh. Life has its costs, and he pays dearly. An exploration of Vaysh's character in the years before and through Pellaz's transformation, and the burdens he endures, because he must.
Post summary: As Vaysh, Firethorn and Jaffa leave the cold place and travel to begin a new life in Ferelithia, Velaxis continues to be surprising. Continued from post 4, here.
i not not you
not possible;
only truthful
-truthfully,once
if strangers(who
deep our most are
selves)touch:
forever
(and so to dark)
~ from "once like a spark (XXIV)" by e e cummings
* * * * *
"More coffee?" Firethorn asked, walking around the small table with the carafe as though he were a serving-hara.
"Yes, thank you." Velaxis held up his cup.
I watched their exchange with bemusement. Firethorn — and Jaffa — were fairly informal in their interactions with nearly everyone, regardless of intimated rank or station. Firethorn was intrigued by Velaxis, more so after, months ago, I'd confirmed that we'd taken aruna together. Velaxis had also carried letters back and forth from the chesnari to Thorn's parents and Jaffa's brother Wycker on two occasions. Now we were off on this new adventure, or so they saw it. I saw a large chessboard, with pieces being moved from square to square. I was a toppled King, put back onto the playing field as a pawn. Velaxis seemed to care about me, though, the Queen lingering behind me with more strength, and flexibility of movement. I accepted a refill on my coffee while stopping the chess analogy. The next piece I would wonder about was the Knight, and that wouldn't do, especially now that I'd be living ever nearer to him. Not that it mattered.
"What's Ferelithia like?" Jaffa asked Velaxis, who blew across the top of his cup before sipping the hot liquid.
"Warm. Colourful. Light-hearted. You'll fit right in." Jaffa started to frown until he realised Velaxis wasn't making fun. "I'm not Thiede. I am his closest assistant, but that doesn't mean he and I sit around over bottles of wine while he tells me every detail and every thought going on in that phenomenal mind of his."
"I didn't think—" Jaffa started to say before Velaxis interrupted him with an easy wave.
"I know you didn't. You're refreshingly transparent. You and Firethorn, both. The more Immanion comes together, with the harish pangs of its court and citizenry, the more potential for factions and unrest. Thiede's going to put himself in a bind, and he knows it, which is why he's doing things which don't necessarily seem to make sense."
"In plain speech, please?" Firethorn asked, shaking his head. "We're nobodies, really, just friends of Vaysh."
The unspoken 'and Ashmael' sounded in the air as clearly as the ticking of the wooden clock on the wall. Velaxis gave me a brief, sympathetic glance before soldiering on.
"Thiede wants his best and brightest hara near to him. But he also wants hara with those qualities he values to be spread out all over as our race thinks about settling down and not acting like savages."
He pressed the few crumbs on his plate onto the pad of a long, pale finger, and then sucked them off gently in his mouth. This time Thorn gave me a furtive smile, but his was of the 'nudge, nudge, wink' variety. Doubtless he thought Velaxis and I would get to Frerelithia and spend a night engaged in mind-boggling passion. I'd been able to tell from the moment Velaxis had shown up an hour or so ago that this trip was strictly for business.
"Well, I don't like being uprooted after not even a year, but if we're supposed to go, then we will," Jaffa said nonchalantly, until a look of horror flew across his features. "He wouldn't split us up, would he?"
The pang hit my heart with the strength of a firebolt.
"Thiede does not care so much for hara and their loves." I turned in shock to look at Feslavit after his comment. He shrugged mordantly. "It is true. He does not have a chesnari, he thinks that is too much like humankind. We can pair off, or have multiple loves, it is of nothing to him. Am I not right?" he asked Velaxis sharply.
The unflappable har seemed monentarily as at a loss for words as everyone else. Velaxis was closest to Thiede for a reson, however, and he smoothed over the upset in a flash.
"You of all sentimental hara should know that isn't true," he said brusquely, pushing away from the table to stand up. I'd never seen Velaxis when he was on the defensive, though it rippled and transformed to power. He stood straight as an aspen, the words cutting to the quick; they were talon strikes of a panther. "He doesn't have the luxury of giving his heart to only one har, but you, Feslavit, you know his feelings for Vaysh weren't sterile in the least or he wouldn't be sitting here now. We hara have tremendous capacity in all things: love, hate, jealousy, art, catastrophe and bliss. You are fortunate to be har, and I'd thank you not to speak poorly of the one who gave you such gifts. I'll be outside. It's time to go."
The four of us looked at each other in the ensuing silence after Velaxis strode out of the room.
"Well," Firethorn said, all eloquence.
"C'mon. Guess we shouldn't draw this out." Jaffa got up roughly from the table, obviously unsettled. He pulled Feslavit into a hug after he, too, had moved to stand. "Thanks for everything. Tell Grimska and Noric good-bye for us. I bet we'll see you all again."
"Perhaps." Feslavit's voice was heavy with a rasp, due to keeping his feelings shunted off to the side. I knew that caustic sensation well.
"Kervad, too," Firethorn chimed in as he made his way to the entrance hall.
I was left alone with Feslavit, who resembled a dog recently kicked by its master, whimpering in a corner wondering what he'd done wrong.
"I'll be back," I said, though I had no idea whether or not that was true.
"I hope so." He held me in an embrace. Strangely, I felt like the one with strength and I let it flow into him as we shared breath. "You have part of my winter," he said sadly as I pulled away.
"It suits me."
He ran his thumb over my cheekbone, just looking; memorising, perhaps. I would miss him in a way, but if there was one lesson Theide seemed determined to beat into me, it was that of impermanence. There wasn't anything else to say, and I was thankful he'd not become mawkish. It might come later, but I wouldn't be there to see it.
The Otherlanes filled me with the jewels of their madness, and even the alien affection of melding thought with Tassia lightened my spirit. Ferelithia was warm, and sunny, a lifetime away from the cold dirzzle we'd left behind outside of the stone fortress. Sun poured generously down as we exploded victoriously onto the red earth. Firethorn had whooped his exaltation; though I'd not yelled, a similar cry of happiness thrummed in my blood. Jaffa's copper spirals glistened with the clinging frosts of the universe, his freckles standing boldly across his face which began to flush with the sudden increase in temeprature.
"Where are we going to stay?" I asked Velaxis, nudging Tassia forward so we walked next to him. The town ahead had a stone wall, but the salty scent of the sea and perfumes of flowers pulled invitingly with the strength of a hundred magnets.
"There's an inn with a keeper who keeps his thoughts somewhat to himself," Velaxis said, lightness in his expression. Going through the Otherlanes seemed to put everyone in brazen spirits, even if it did fade away quickly. "I'll be going back to Immanion as soon as you're settled."
That answered my unasked question. I hadn't thought there'd be a repeat of that time at Natalia, and while I was relieved, a part of me regretted it, too.
The town was the antithesis of the cold land where I'd been living, though Tollsend in summer was vibrant in its own way. We hadn't packed all that much; Jaffa and Firethorn hadn't brought a lot from Castlegar though they now had heavy furs and some tokens from their time with me in the north. At an inn set away in a quieter part of the vivacious city we got comfortable in our two rooms while Velaxis sat downstairs in the bar. Our next step was to stable the sedim for a few hours while Velaxis gave us a hasty overview of the town and discreetly handed us each a purse heavy with coinage I didn't recognise.
"It's enough to get you all on your feet. You'll need to find some trade to engage in after a while, but there are plenty of jobs and you each have skills that are needed in a growing city like Ferelithia. The Fereliths are showy and like fine things."
"So— this is it?" Jaffa asked, scratching at his scalp, and then guesturing vaguely at the cobbled streets, the red-roofed houses sitting sleepily under the warm sun.
"For now," Velaxis replied cryptically. "I think you'll enjoy being here; the hara are easygoing in temperament. You and Firethorn will fit right in."
I felt out of place, but was determined not to let my emotions get out of control and consume the well-being that had nestled in my chest.
"Vaysh, I'd like to go back to the inn and speak with you alone."
I nodded my acceptance; Firethorn said they'd come and get me for dinner. They took their leave and wondered off down the street, Jaffa's arm slung around Thorn's waist. Though a study in contrasts, with Firethorn's ruddy skin and dark hair, and Jaffa's pale complexion and orange ringlets, their hearts beat only for one another. Melancholy creeped back out from its sanctuary and settled in my pulse, almost purring. Don't be ungrateful, I heard, again.
"Vaysh?"
I snapped out of my reverie; Velaxis' true voice was in my ear.
"Yes?"
He regarded me dispassionately, for which I was grateful. He was an enigma, but I trusted that almost more than any other quality that could have been more blatant, and therefore, more false.
"Let's go. They have quite good wine; I'll ask for some from the innkeeper and we can have some out on the balcony."
As we walked through the cheery streets, I found myself more at peace in his presence, willing to ask questions I hadn't before. "What do you really think of Immanion?"
He leveled his gaze at me, one eyebrow raised. Black pearls were woven into his white-blond hair; for all of the Otherlanes travel he'd undertaken today, he looked as polished as ever.
"I think it's too early to tell," he said evenly. "It's being shaped differently because you're not there as Tigron. I don't say that to make you feel badly," he went on in haste.
I was stunned, and almost gaped at him. He cared about my feelings —? He was also probably one of the only hara there who had any idea whatsoever that I'd been intended to lead, or act as a a figurehead, anyway.
"I don't," I finally said. "But thank you for saying that. Your kindness means a lot."
A rare, open smile graced his lips. "I have reserves of tenderness for you. You didn't ask for the hurts that have come to you, and I can only guess that at times you feel you've been put in an untenable situation."
By now I was flabbergasted. "That's an eloquent way to put it."
We ambled down the street, the inn ahead and on the right. I'd seen hara from tribes I knew I couldn't identify, some dressed in quite gaudy attire. There were also a few human women. I felt sticky and out of sorts, like I'd faen into a web of disorientation and each glance around confirmed I couldn't get out. Until I looked over at Velaxis, that was, who'd changed in moments from tentative ally to anchor. My frantic needs must have been glaring to him, though he merely took my arm and guided my faltering steps.
Once at the inn he purchased a bottle of white wine and asked for two glasses. The innkeeper gave us a knowing look, but made no lewd commentary. My heart was starting to race; I wondered just what the fuck was wrong with me. I wasn't driven like this anymore, I was in control, dammit, I was…
When the door shut I was on Velaxis with the passion of the near-dead on his saviour. He managed to get the bottle and glasses safely out of the way, but only just. My eyes were blinded by tears; I needed proof that I wasn't as broken as I felt. I ached for him to breathe on the tiny spark he'd lit three-quarters of a year ago. I was near a breaking point, of sanity or despair, I wasn't sure and didn't care.
"It's okay, let it out," Velaxis said, his voice a lusty growl though his eyes harboured deep caring. I made wordless cries of anguished need, of frustraton at our clothes and the consuming, burning want that throbbed angrily deep between my legs. There was so much that had been taken from me, and this, too, would leave a gaping wound, but Velaxis understood. He wouldn't tell and he wouldn't lie and he wouldn't placate and he wouldn't take anything but pleasure— and that was enough.
Clothes were torn away, lips claimed and the breath gusted out of him, filling me with his unique taste. He bit and sucked at the base of my neck. For a few seconds I thought back wildly to the vampire joke Firethorn and I had shared. I was soume and ready to devour him; he intuited everything. As before, I was transparent to him; he knew what I was scrabbling for even as he rutted against my hip, my back pressed up against the unforgiving wall.
He was stronger than he looked, or I was lighter than I realised. When he shared the images he did, I groaned at the rightness of it and demanded he hoist me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. He angled his vibrant ouana-lim and thrust into me, hard. It was sublime; I was greedy and raucous and grabbed his hair in my fists.
"Ow, that hurts," he said through gritted teeth.
"Sorry," I painted and realised even in my lust-drenched haze the strain on his arms. "Can we go to the bed?"
He carried us over, still joined, each step jarring his shaft against my inner muscles. It was madness, and exquisite agony. Velaxis sat and fell backwards, letting me ride him, to consume him with the clenching maw of my soume-lam as long as I could.
"Let it out," he said again, his voice gravelly with his own passion. "You're not dead inside. Let me burn for you."
"God!" I cried out, unable to look at the heat radiating from his gaze. "I'm not strong enough."
"You. Are," he grunted, his calm mannerisms lost, his attentions focussed solely on taking me to a point of near-brutal ecstacy. Torrents of memories battered me like hailstones. Velaxis was a dark angel, his wings of desire beating like a thunderous heartbeat. He burst into orgasm, and the energy drove me through my own release. Half-crazed, I cried out Ashmael's name.
Breathing heavily, the room slowly re-asserted itself into my reality, as well as the very non-Ashmael face looking up at me.
I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I practically frothed via mind-touch.
"Vaysh, it's okay," Velaxis said aloud, using his hands to soothe me, clasping mine in his. I crumpled, all dignity lost as I tried to extricate myself without damaging his quite beautiful ouana-lim and wishing a hole would appear to swallow me up.
"Fucking hell," I murmured, curling up into a ball, my language hearkening back to my earliest harish days. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"Look at me."
I had no pride; I couldn't bear to do so. He had — again — reached out in ways no one else could, and I repaid him by calling out…
"Was there a ritual saying when you were incepted?"
I was so surprised at the question I feebly turned over. "In blood, in fire, into forever," I said automatically, wishing for a knife to gouge a new scar, or to cut out my heart and offer it up.
"Interesting. Are you Uigenna?"
"I just called you by my ches— my former chesnari's name, and you're asking about my tribal background?"
"I needed to distract you. It worked," he said, a smug satisfaction in his voice. His face was flushed, his silken white hair a tousled, sensual mess. He didn't seem offended.
"I think I need a towel," I said, suddenly sheepish but sensing my dignity crawling back out from under whatever rock it had taken shelter.
Velaxis nodded. "I'll pour us some wine. I do want to talk with you; that wasn't a lie. I could tell that you needed to unleash yourself first."
"There's that eloquent language again," I said, startled that I was jovial enough to be flippant. His arunic skills were singularly effective; as I toweled away the evidence of our coupling, I had a moment of sadness that the force of his seed didn't stay in me. I couldn't create life, but everything else from Velaxis' body seemed to have healing effects on me. Maybe some of the fluids from within his forceful organ flickered deep within my scarred soume-lam, tiny embers of light in such a dark place.
"Thiede is going to need you," he said after we'd dressed and sat out on the balcony. The wine was crisp, and welcome. Creepers with trumpet-like, crimson flowers wound themselves up a drainpipe, adding colour and a sweet aroma to the ambiance.
"You will know what to do when those times come. Don't try and shut him out. First off, it's fruitless. Secondly, even though your experience with him was… traumatic…"
I was gratified that he fumbled for an appropriate word.
"Your caste was propelled forward because of it. There's a tremendous amount of strength and spiritual sophistication in you. Away from Feslavit, who was very kind, but he wanted to coddle you, you can explore those abilities. I hope you will; you'll need them."
I'd remained silent, sipping the tart wine. Velaxis had scoured me out with our aruna; his shared breath had cleansed away accumulated despondency and wiped away the stagnating pools of ennui. I owed him the vitality I felt, the ability to really listen and take my upcoming tasks to heart, whenever they did occur.
"I will. Thank you, Velaxis," I said softly, resting a hand atop his and giving the fingers a gentle squeeze.
He curled his fingers around them; I craved their warmth. He gifted me with a brave smile and I was heartened. "The name you shouted," he said. "It wasn't so much for love, or loss of it."
"It wasn't?" My voice cracked.
"No, Vaysh. It was a battle cry."
* * * * *
I begged off of dinner that evening, fabricating stomach cramps. Firethorn insisted on coming into my room and seeing me in the flesh to make certain I hadn't made my lodging into a den for brooding. The scent of aruna still hung tenaciously in the air and a secretive smile of approval flitted on his face.
"Okay. But you're having breakfast with us tomorrow, no matter what."
I agreed demurely and he left. With a deep exhale, I went over to my bag. After Velaxis had taken his leave, I'd crashed, sleeping for a couple of hours, quite an extraordinary feat for me. I opened the rugged pack to find my sleeping clothes and my hand closed around a delicate piece of silver. I pulled out the amber phoenix pendant Feslavit had caught me admiring over a year ago. The amber, tiger's eye and garnet were as beautiful as I remembered when I'd first seen it. I found the acompanying piece of paper after rummaging a bit through the pack, just a simple note.
- Wear this and be proud.
I caressed the necklace in my fingers before putting it on and admiring it in the mirror which hung over the bathroom sink. After a few moments of staring at the craftwork, I went to my personal, small bag, the one I hadn't let anyone else meddle in, and withdrew the small tin of tiger balm crystals and a needle. Once I'd readied the drug, I shot it into my arm, letting the fierce calm of it ease through my body. I poured myself the last of the wine and drank it slowly, blissfully thinking of nothing at all.