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thrihyrneTitle: Down the Whispering Well
This post rating: general
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1927
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: Time passes, some deep wounds begin to heal. Vaysh may never be comfortable around Ashmael again, but there are others who will always care for him. Continued from post 10, here.
Thanks again to all who have read this novella and shared your enthusiasm with me!
"It's so hard to believe this is already happening," Jaffa said through a mouthful of some kind of fruit tart. "It seems like only a few months ago he was a harling, being chatty and getting into everything, and now he's going to take aruna for the first time."
I gave him a smile, fidgeting with the brass bangle I wore much of the time, Pell's first peace offering. "I remember your Feybraiha," I said softly. "What a time that was! You were so moody, and then that night when the storms came, and you chose Abelard. I was quite shocked."
Jaffa grinned wolfishly at the memory. "I knew to heed my instincts. Besides, I turned out okay. Abelard was the one my body knew would be right. Yaz let us choose for him. Actually, he asked us to, but we'd had a sense of the right har and Yaz is, um, quite excited."
"I would be, too. He's striking, and easy on the eyes."
"It's the hair," Firethorn commented, having stepped over to join our conversation.
"Well, yes. Not just anyone could pull that off, but it's flattering on him," I said, looking at Lidka, Yaz's to-be aruna partner. He had long, wavy hair, a vivid orange colour with bright turquoise streaks around his face and across the bottom six inches or so. He was one of Jaffa's and Firethorn's artist friends, and someone who'd been a fan of theirs since their early days in Ferelithia. Yazdyar kept giving him hungry looks, and I was grateful to see that the older har was aware and through his own body language, was sending reciprocal messages.
"This is a lovely party," I went on, swirling my wine a couple of times before taking a sip.
"I'm so glad the Tigron let you loose so you could be here," Firethorn said earnestly, slipping his hand behind my waist and resting his head on my shoulder. "You and Ashmael, both."
I let out a deep breath. Ashmael was here, in another part of the courtyard, speaking animatedly to one of Jaffa's engineering hara. To me he radiated 'Gelaming Royalty' in a way I didn't believe that I did. I'd learned how to wield my power in a far more unobtrusive manner, but Ashmael always stood out, especially when decked neck to toe in black leather. He was devastatingly attractive, and he knew it. I had a niggling need to go and talk with him; it was still so awkward and painful, though.
"Why doesn't he accept you?" Jaffa asked, newly upset for me, and Ashmael's insistence on keeping his distance from me. "He should be ecstatic! I mean, I know I wasn't the best about things when I first saw you, but still."
I took another swallow of wine. I would bear the bruises of Ashmael's disgust and rejection for many years, I was certain of it, but a tiny seed of peace had been planted in my soul.
"I'm just unnatural to him," I said simply. "I'm damaged, and I know I'm different than I was in Castlegar, or even before that. I do hope he'll be less repulsed over time. He'll be going to Megalithica; no doubt that will make things easier."
Firethorn's hand squeezed comfortingly on my hip. "I'm sorry things haven't worked out. I think he's a fool."
"He can't help it," I explained, marvelling that I was instinctively defending him. "I'm a monster to him, or was. He's better about me now, but I don't think we'll ever friends. I've had time to get used to that."
Jaffa glowered; I knew it had been Firethorn's decision to invite him at all. He was more of a peacemaker, while Jaffa's loyalties had resolutely swung to me after our time together. He'd come to terms with me and my rebirth, and he was content to let Ashmael stay out of their lives if he was unwilling to do the same.
"He's not the same har I knew and looked up to," Jaffa said, his words scornful.
"We've all changed, quite a bit," I murmured.
Ashmael stood alone, at ease with himself until he glanced over at our trio, when he blanched just slightly. I saw a flicker of remorse, enough for me to decide to cross the yawning chasm of only a few yards. "I'll be back shortly," I said, easing out of Firethorn's protective hold.
"You're more beautiful than he is," Jaffa said fiercely, under his breath. "And you were a part of Yaz's conception. He's not done that."
I wasn't as strong as I wished, and memories still buffeted me when I saw him, causing me to wall myself off and become snappish and irritable. On this day, the love and affection of Jaffa and Firethorn, and even Yazdyar's obvious happiness kept me from becoming icy. I walked slowly over to Ashmael, seeing his guard go up but I accepted his change in demeanour without surprise.
"I hear you'll be taking your troops to Megalithica soon," I said, noting he relaxed a fraction since I'd not brought up anything overtly personal.
He nodded, and looked around at a nearby table where there was a half full bottle of wine. He refilled his glass and offered to do the same for me. I held out my glass, both of us careful not to get too physically close.
"We'll be leaving in a couple of weeks, as you know," he said briskly. "There's a part of me really looking forward to teaching the Varrs a lesson. Though we may be there for a while. It could end up that we play a waiting game, but even that has its appeal. Immanion can get to feeling like a fishbowl."
I huffed a laugh. "That's true."
I paused; we really didn't have all that much to say to one another, but at least in this moment when I gazed into his face, I didn't see him recoil as he had that first year or so.
"Yazdyar is really something," he said, his words thrumming with intrigue. "Quite a potent mix of his hostling and father."
I nodded. "And so at peace with who and where he is. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he becomes as prominent here as his parents, in his own right."
Ashmael made an affirming noise, and then glanced at me again. The openness on his face shuttered closed. Inwardly I winced, and felt my own expression harden.
"I hope things go well with the Varrs," I said, hating him for a moment when I saw his relief that I was leaving.
"Yes. Well, Thiede has some unexpected plans hidden up those velvet sleeves of his. They'll be surprised, to say the least."
"Most hara are."
I turned and made my way over to Yazdyar, who was reveling in the attention and thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Thank you for coming," he said brightly, his attentions continually drawn to Lidka, now walking over to take his place at Yaz's side. "It wouldn't have been right if you weren't here. Why'd Thorn and Father invite the Gelaming General, though?"
"He was a part of our past. You are the present." I cradled his head in my hands, brushing kisses on both cheeks. "I'll issue an invitation to come to Immanion, soon. Tonight, enjoy yourself. I can tell you'll be well taken care of."
Lidka arched an eyebrow at me in thanks.
Yaz enfolded me in a crushing hug. "Thank you for the phoenix. I still wear it every day. Thorn says it was given to you by somehar who's dead now, but he loved you."
"He did," I said softly. "You're going to have a very interesting life, and I plan to keep up with you."
"You'd better." He clung to me, and then loosed his hold.
I made my goodbyes, informing Jaffa and Firethorn that I'd have a proper invitation to Immanion sent in the near future.
"Are you sure you won't stay? There's plenty of room in our bed," Firethorn said warmly.
"No. I have an appointment in Phaonica, but thank you."
I left the frenetic activity of Ferelithia behind me as I rode Tassia through the Otherlanes back to Immanion. She was given to her usual groom, and I made my way back to my apartment. Pellaz had a dinner function with some dignitaries from Sulh, and would be occupied for much of the night; that was part of the reason why I'd arranged the appointment I had, as I knew I'd need it and this particular har was, by design, the utmost in discretion. He arrived as the clock tower bell tolled nine, precisely on time. Velaxis was never late, never early. I admired that in him, among other things. His cool gaze evaluated me before a sun-warmed smile captured his lips.
"The party went well, I take it," he stated, and I nodded. His perceptiveness rivaled mine, but in this realm, I still needed infinite guidance. "You'll need to ride me, hard."
"Are you a horse, then?"
"Finer than any sedu." His expression was sly mischief, and I adored him for it. This was business, of a most intimate venture; as I had in the past, I trusted him fully. "I'll just get you out of these bothersome robes."
"What, no riding crop? Or spurs?"
"I think we've beaten that analogy to death. Hush, Vaysh," he crooned, and I became grateful putty in his talented hands. "All we ever have is now, and for now, you've invited me to care for you. Let me do so."
I did ride him, hard. My body milked its pleasure, and his serpent tongue flickered deep within me, a web in my stratagem, a soothing weft to my weave of pain. We spoke for a time afterwards, sharing some wine a thoughtful servant had placed beside the bed.
"I've said this before, but you're enchanting," Velaxis said tenderly, tucking me into my crisp sheets. "Please call on me at any time. Though I do fear I'll be sent to Megalithica with the troops and much of the Hegemony."
"I'll miss you," I murmured, cocooning into my burrow of pillows.
"At least someone will," he sighed, though his words were surely ironic.
We weren't outwardly friendly outside of the occasional invitations I issued to him for his arunic skills, but within the safety of my apartment walls, I allowed myself to remember our interludes from the past. Velaxis and I were both very private hara, and neither he nor I wished to provide any fodder for gossip. He also seemed to be fond of Caeru, whom I'd grown to dislike more and more since his arrival in Phaonica. Still, Velaxis could keep his mouth shut, and his expert touch was a balm I enlisted from time to time.
"Stay, just until I fall asleep," I pleaded. He did, spooned behind me, drawing fanciful patterns on my back and spinning wild tales until I drifted off. I awoke in the dark of night, startled at the sound of someone in my rooms. It was Pell, drunk and seeking a trusted companion. His consort certainly didn't count. I managed to ease him out of his shoes and formal robes and he curled against me, murmuring his thanks. I breathed in his scent, saffron and spicy authority, and chanted brief incantations of protection over him. As moonlight spilled across his brows, furrowed even in sleep, I wished him peace, hoping some would be gifted to me as well.
This post rating: general
Warnings: none
Word Count: 1927
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: Time passes, some deep wounds begin to heal. Vaysh may never be comfortable around Ashmael again, but there are others who will always care for him. Continued from post 10, here.
Thanks again to all who have read this novella and shared your enthusiasm with me!
"It's so hard to believe this is already happening," Jaffa said through a mouthful of some kind of fruit tart. "It seems like only a few months ago he was a harling, being chatty and getting into everything, and now he's going to take aruna for the first time."
I gave him a smile, fidgeting with the brass bangle I wore much of the time, Pell's first peace offering. "I remember your Feybraiha," I said softly. "What a time that was! You were so moody, and then that night when the storms came, and you chose Abelard. I was quite shocked."
Jaffa grinned wolfishly at the memory. "I knew to heed my instincts. Besides, I turned out okay. Abelard was the one my body knew would be right. Yaz let us choose for him. Actually, he asked us to, but we'd had a sense of the right har and Yaz is, um, quite excited."
"I would be, too. He's striking, and easy on the eyes."
"It's the hair," Firethorn commented, having stepped over to join our conversation.
"Well, yes. Not just anyone could pull that off, but it's flattering on him," I said, looking at Lidka, Yaz's to-be aruna partner. He had long, wavy hair, a vivid orange colour with bright turquoise streaks around his face and across the bottom six inches or so. He was one of Jaffa's and Firethorn's artist friends, and someone who'd been a fan of theirs since their early days in Ferelithia. Yazdyar kept giving him hungry looks, and I was grateful to see that the older har was aware and through his own body language, was sending reciprocal messages.
"This is a lovely party," I went on, swirling my wine a couple of times before taking a sip.
"I'm so glad the Tigron let you loose so you could be here," Firethorn said earnestly, slipping his hand behind my waist and resting his head on my shoulder. "You and Ashmael, both."
I let out a deep breath. Ashmael was here, in another part of the courtyard, speaking animatedly to one of Jaffa's engineering hara. To me he radiated 'Gelaming Royalty' in a way I didn't believe that I did. I'd learned how to wield my power in a far more unobtrusive manner, but Ashmael always stood out, especially when decked neck to toe in black leather. He was devastatingly attractive, and he knew it. I had a niggling need to go and talk with him; it was still so awkward and painful, though.
"Why doesn't he accept you?" Jaffa asked, newly upset for me, and Ashmael's insistence on keeping his distance from me. "He should be ecstatic! I mean, I know I wasn't the best about things when I first saw you, but still."
I took another swallow of wine. I would bear the bruises of Ashmael's disgust and rejection for many years, I was certain of it, but a tiny seed of peace had been planted in my soul.
"I'm just unnatural to him," I said simply. "I'm damaged, and I know I'm different than I was in Castlegar, or even before that. I do hope he'll be less repulsed over time. He'll be going to Megalithica; no doubt that will make things easier."
Firethorn's hand squeezed comfortingly on my hip. "I'm sorry things haven't worked out. I think he's a fool."
"He can't help it," I explained, marvelling that I was instinctively defending him. "I'm a monster to him, or was. He's better about me now, but I don't think we'll ever friends. I've had time to get used to that."
Jaffa glowered; I knew it had been Firethorn's decision to invite him at all. He was more of a peacemaker, while Jaffa's loyalties had resolutely swung to me after our time together. He'd come to terms with me and my rebirth, and he was content to let Ashmael stay out of their lives if he was unwilling to do the same.
"He's not the same har I knew and looked up to," Jaffa said, his words scornful.
"We've all changed, quite a bit," I murmured.
Ashmael stood alone, at ease with himself until he glanced over at our trio, when he blanched just slightly. I saw a flicker of remorse, enough for me to decide to cross the yawning chasm of only a few yards. "I'll be back shortly," I said, easing out of Firethorn's protective hold.
"You're more beautiful than he is," Jaffa said fiercely, under his breath. "And you were a part of Yaz's conception. He's not done that."
I wasn't as strong as I wished, and memories still buffeted me when I saw him, causing me to wall myself off and become snappish and irritable. On this day, the love and affection of Jaffa and Firethorn, and even Yazdyar's obvious happiness kept me from becoming icy. I walked slowly over to Ashmael, seeing his guard go up but I accepted his change in demeanour without surprise.
"I hear you'll be taking your troops to Megalithica soon," I said, noting he relaxed a fraction since I'd not brought up anything overtly personal.
He nodded, and looked around at a nearby table where there was a half full bottle of wine. He refilled his glass and offered to do the same for me. I held out my glass, both of us careful not to get too physically close.
"We'll be leaving in a couple of weeks, as you know," he said briskly. "There's a part of me really looking forward to teaching the Varrs a lesson. Though we may be there for a while. It could end up that we play a waiting game, but even that has its appeal. Immanion can get to feeling like a fishbowl."
I huffed a laugh. "That's true."
I paused; we really didn't have all that much to say to one another, but at least in this moment when I gazed into his face, I didn't see him recoil as he had that first year or so.
"Yazdyar is really something," he said, his words thrumming with intrigue. "Quite a potent mix of his hostling and father."
I nodded. "And so at peace with who and where he is. I wouldn't be the least bit surprised if he becomes as prominent here as his parents, in his own right."
Ashmael made an affirming noise, and then glanced at me again. The openness on his face shuttered closed. Inwardly I winced, and felt my own expression harden.
"I hope things go well with the Varrs," I said, hating him for a moment when I saw his relief that I was leaving.
"Yes. Well, Thiede has some unexpected plans hidden up those velvet sleeves of his. They'll be surprised, to say the least."
"Most hara are."
I turned and made my way over to Yazdyar, who was reveling in the attention and thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Thank you for coming," he said brightly, his attentions continually drawn to Lidka, now walking over to take his place at Yaz's side. "It wouldn't have been right if you weren't here. Why'd Thorn and Father invite the Gelaming General, though?"
"He was a part of our past. You are the present." I cradled his head in my hands, brushing kisses on both cheeks. "I'll issue an invitation to come to Immanion, soon. Tonight, enjoy yourself. I can tell you'll be well taken care of."
Lidka arched an eyebrow at me in thanks.
Yaz enfolded me in a crushing hug. "Thank you for the phoenix. I still wear it every day. Thorn says it was given to you by somehar who's dead now, but he loved you."
"He did," I said softly. "You're going to have a very interesting life, and I plan to keep up with you."
"You'd better." He clung to me, and then loosed his hold.
I made my goodbyes, informing Jaffa and Firethorn that I'd have a proper invitation to Immanion sent in the near future.
"Are you sure you won't stay? There's plenty of room in our bed," Firethorn said warmly.
"No. I have an appointment in Phaonica, but thank you."
I left the frenetic activity of Ferelithia behind me as I rode Tassia through the Otherlanes back to Immanion. She was given to her usual groom, and I made my way back to my apartment. Pellaz had a dinner function with some dignitaries from Sulh, and would be occupied for much of the night; that was part of the reason why I'd arranged the appointment I had, as I knew I'd need it and this particular har was, by design, the utmost in discretion. He arrived as the clock tower bell tolled nine, precisely on time. Velaxis was never late, never early. I admired that in him, among other things. His cool gaze evaluated me before a sun-warmed smile captured his lips.
"The party went well, I take it," he stated, and I nodded. His perceptiveness rivaled mine, but in this realm, I still needed infinite guidance. "You'll need to ride me, hard."
"Are you a horse, then?"
"Finer than any sedu." His expression was sly mischief, and I adored him for it. This was business, of a most intimate venture; as I had in the past, I trusted him fully. "I'll just get you out of these bothersome robes."
"What, no riding crop? Or spurs?"
"I think we've beaten that analogy to death. Hush, Vaysh," he crooned, and I became grateful putty in his talented hands. "All we ever have is now, and for now, you've invited me to care for you. Let me do so."
I did ride him, hard. My body milked its pleasure, and his serpent tongue flickered deep within me, a web in my stratagem, a soothing weft to my weave of pain. We spoke for a time afterwards, sharing some wine a thoughtful servant had placed beside the bed.
"I've said this before, but you're enchanting," Velaxis said tenderly, tucking me into my crisp sheets. "Please call on me at any time. Though I do fear I'll be sent to Megalithica with the troops and much of the Hegemony."
"I'll miss you," I murmured, cocooning into my burrow of pillows.
"At least someone will," he sighed, though his words were surely ironic.
We weren't outwardly friendly outside of the occasional invitations I issued to him for his arunic skills, but within the safety of my apartment walls, I allowed myself to remember our interludes from the past. Velaxis and I were both very private hara, and neither he nor I wished to provide any fodder for gossip. He also seemed to be fond of Caeru, whom I'd grown to dislike more and more since his arrival in Phaonica. Still, Velaxis could keep his mouth shut, and his expert touch was a balm I enlisted from time to time.
"Stay, just until I fall asleep," I pleaded. He did, spooned behind me, drawing fanciful patterns on my back and spinning wild tales until I drifted off. I awoke in the dark of night, startled at the sound of someone in my rooms. It was Pell, drunk and seeking a trusted companion. His consort certainly didn't count. I managed to ease him out of his shoes and formal robes and he curled against me, murmuring his thanks. I breathed in his scent, saffron and spicy authority, and chanted brief incantations of protection over him. As moonlight spilled across his brows, furrowed even in sleep, I wished him peace, hoping some would be gifted to me as well.
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(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-04 06:26 pm (UTC)I love the way you've been totally in canon, yet it seems like reading the story for the first time, too. Your story from Vaysh's POV just melds so perfectly with canon, yet is told so differently and from such a new perspective because now we're seeing everything throught Vaysh's eyes.
And when Vaysh is confronted with Ash, his breakdown and all his anguished thoughts - heartbreaking. Part of me wants to grab Ashmael by the shoulders and say, "Can't you see it's still Vaysh?" Just my happy ending obsession there! Of course I realize your ending is much more realistic, within canon, how it has to be, and so achingly sad.
You've developed the relationship and eventual friendship forged between Pell and Vaysh in such a beautiful, touching and realistic way. Again your marriage of canon and your own vision is so perfect! If any two hara have a reason to feel connected, it's Pellaz and Vaysh, and I like how you've addressed that. Even though in that connection and their friendship, there has to be a lot of conflict there, both within themselves and with each other. You've woven that story line so intricately throughout the last few posts since Pell's arrival on the scene. Just beautiful!
Even though I feel so bad that Ash and Vaysh can't get back together, you leave us feeling hopeful for Vaysh. He and Pell have come to a friendship, Vaysh has his close friends, Firethorn, Jaffa and Yaz, too, who he'll get to see, and aruna with Velaxis is way more than a consolation prize!!
Reading both M&M and DtWW have just been such a joy, an adventure and sometimes a heart-wrenching experience, and I have loved every minute! Thank you so much.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-05-04 11:28 pm (UTC)I'm so pleased that you enjoyed reading both stories. I'm now at a bit of a loss, as I've been so driven to write these one after the other. ;) Thank you so much for your kind words, and for your support along the way.