"Break Open the Massive Dark" part two
Feb. 3rd, 2009 08:35 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneContinued from here
Yazdyar and Aleeme burst from the Otherlanes in a shower of frost. Zephyr galloped ahead down the hill until Yazdyar reined the sedu in. Aleeme shook his head, trying to reconcile himself to his new surroundings and hoping that his disorientation would pass quickly. Yazdyar and General Aldebaran's sedu both seemed invigorated by their travel but for Aleeme, the currently safe Otherlanes were a reminder of the war so recently fought. He'd tried to convince his healer for them to travel via horse and boat, but Yazdyar insisted it would take far too long.
"I know you can handle it," he said reassuringly when Zephyr had appeared along with Afnina, Swift's sedu. Personally, Aleeme hadn't been sure that he could keep it together, passing through the strange clamor of the ethers. Although he hadn't minded traveling that way before, when he was younger, as he had when he'd first gone to We Dwell in Forever from Roselane for his feybraiha, it now reminded him of golden days long past, and his spirit was troubled.
Azriel and the healer Jerizel suddenly manifested off to their left, the sedu and riders all a bit wild-eyed and exuberant from their Otherlane travels. Afnina trotted over to them, and the two healers looked at each other without speaking. Doubtless they were communicating via mind-touch. Yazdyar was very excited; Aleeme could practically feel it in waves as he loosened his grip from around the healer's waist.
"What part of the city is your house in?" he asked as the scent of jasmine began to waft over him. There was an increasing noise of bustle and snatches of music as the sedim kept a steady pace toward the edge of the busy enclave. Aleeme felt insignificant and peripheral, damaged goods being brought into a land of happy hara who couldn't possibly guess what he'd been through since he bore no physical scars.
"I live near the water," Yazdyar replied. "But I want to see my parents first. They're anxious to meet you and Azriel. I've been telling them a lot about you."
"Really?" Aleeme said, surprised. "I wish we were in better shape. Azriel's not himself, my legs are still somewhat weak." He barked a bitter laugh. "Maybe it's for the best that they're seeing us like this. We won't break their hearts. I won't have to see them try not to cry, or see the pain on their faces as they try to reconcile what we were like… before."
"My parents aren't judgmental at all, I promise," Yazdyar said fervently. "Firethorn, my hostling, he especially sees into hara, he sees who you are at your core, not the outside trappings. My younger brother is a bit of a different story, but he's in Immanion. We'll probably see him at some point, but not at first. Jaffa's a great judge of character, and pretty easy going."
They rode in silence for a while after that as Aleeme took in the sights and sounds of the vibrant harish city. He glanced over at Azriel from time to time, watching his reactions to their new location. He seemed to enjoy looking at the brightly clothed hara, and he twisted his head this way and that as they passed through wide streets where hara hawked everything from incense to leather sandals. Eventually they navigated to a smaller cobblestone street that meandered up a hill. By this point Aleeme had stripped off his cloak as the air was much warmer and more humid than in Galhea. It felt good to have the sun's rays on his bare arms and his face; even his hair waved a bit as though seeking out its own warmth under the striking blue sky.
"This is it!" Yazdyar called over to Jerizel as they approached a house painted in a kaleidoscope of colors. No two surfaces were the same, and there was a flowing script in vivid magenta under the eaves, presumably going all the way around the house.
"It's certainly easy to pick out!" Jerizel said, laughing. "How much of the design was your idea?"
"Not a lot, actually," Yazdyar said, bringing Zephyr to a halt. He slid off of the sedu and was helping Aleeme to swing his leg over the sedu's back when the robin's egg blue front door opened.
"Thorn!" Yazdyar cried out, beaming at the ruddy-skinned har who stood in the doorway.
"Yaz! Come give your hostling a hug."
Amused, Aleeme watched Yazdyar bound up the walkway and throw himself into his hostling's arms. He was so absorbed in watching their dynamic that Aleeme started when he felt fingers brush against his.
"Azriel!" he exclaimed, and Azriel recoiled, whimpering like a kicked dog. "Oh Az, I'm so sorry. You just startled me. Please, hold my hand. That's fine," he babbled, thrusting his hand toward Azriel.
After looking from the proffered hand to Aleeme's face and back and forth a few times, Azriel finally intertwined his fingers again. Cheered, Aleeme said to him via mind-touch, Do you know who I am?
Azriel's eyes grew wide and he tapped at his head with the hand not clasped in Aleeme's, his brows furrowed at hearing a voice there that wasn't his.
"That was me," Aleeme said aloud. "It's Aleeme. Lee. Don't you remember?" Sadness and futility were pulling and picking at him, vultures feasting on the hope he'd had that Azriel had, even briefly, known who he was.
"You must be Jerizel," Yazdyar's hostling said, coming down the walk and introducing himself to the other healer. "I'm Firethorn. And you must be Aleeme," he said gently, regarding Aleeme's hair before leaning in to kiss him on both cheeks. "When I was still a harling, before my feybraiha, a pair of Colurastes hosted a pearl, the first harling to be born in Castlegar. I'd been the only harling there before Lemuel came along. You're part Colurastes, aren't you?"
"Yes. My father is Colurastes, though he spent several years with the Kakkahaar. You're unlike any har I've ever seen." Aleeme was fascinated with Firethorn's shiny, straight black hair that fell all the way past his waist, his expressive, black eyes and the prominent thin nose which similarly dominated Yazdyar's face.
"My parents were both from an ancient human tribe," Firethorn explained. "This must be Azriel. Come here, precious," he murmured, opening his arms wide.
Azriel didn't react to his name, but the message of entreaty seemed to be enough to rouse him into action. He let go of Aleeme's hand and walked into the har's arms as though he were a dear friend and not a complete stranger. Firethorn ran his hand down Azriel's hair several times while Aleeme watched, despair creeping back into his heart as he fidgeted with his tunic buttons.
"I need to return to the camp," Jerizel said to him, compassion in his expression. "Don't give up hope yet. Please let Yazdyar know I've taken Afnina back to the healing pavilions, and Zephyr will get himself back to Immanion and Ashmael Aldebaran."
Aleeme nodded absently, half-watching as the sedim and the healer began walking back down the cobbled road.
"Aleeme! Come and meet Jaffa!"
Yazdyar's gleeful voice carried from inside the house, but Aleeme looked to Firethorn, still consoling or merely holding Azriel, he couldn't tell. "We'll be in shortly," Firethorn promised. "I'll talk with you and Yaz both about your chesnari. I think between what Yaz has been taught and my ability to dreamwalk, we will be able to rescue much of this one whom you hold so dear."
"I hope so."
Aleeme had meant to sound fiercely optimistic, but the words came out as barely a whisper. Head hanging, he walked toward the house, only partially noticing the riot of blooming shrubs and wildflowers thriving in the front yard.
"In here!" Yazdyar called.
As Aleeme crossed the threshold, he almost tripped over a sleek cat sleeping inside the doorway. A skinny har with bright orange ringlets was at his side in a flash, steadying him. His worried face was covered in freckles; pale skin glowed underneath.
"You okay?" he asked, loosening his grip on Aleeme's arm. "Sorry about Serafina. She'd old and loves that spot. Damn cat gets in the way, though."
"I'm— I'm fine," Aleeme said, stuttering.
"Let's go out back," Yazdyar said. He was in what appeared to be an open kitchen, arranging some cheeses, meat slices, olives and bread on a platter. On cue, Aleeme's stomach rumbled.
"I'm Jaffa, obviously," Yazdyar's father said as he gestured toward a door, also open, which apparently led to the backyard. "Make yourself at home. Ferelithia is a wonderful place, and while I'll admit I'm biased, Yaz is an accomplished healer. I have tremendous hopes for you and your chesnari. Wine?"
"Yes, please," Aleeme said gratefully. He wandered out to the patio, wine in hand, followed closely by Yazdyar. He drank the first glass quickly and it was refilled without his needing to ask. At glass number three, Aleeme began to feel fairly relaxed, and he wondered where on earth Azriel and Firethorn were. He'd been content to listen to Yazdyar and Jaffa's banter and discussions about Teak, Yazdyar's younger brother, who was apparently quite the social status climber in Immanion's courts.
"Word's gotten back to me that he even rooned… Well, it's about time!" Yazdyar said, interrupting his line of gossip as Azriel and Firethorn ambled out to join them.
"Speaking of rooning," Firethorn said in a solemn tone, "this one has needs that should be taken care of. Soon."
Azriel seemed remarkably at ease. He also had wine in his hand. As he came and sat next to him, Aleeme idly wondered what number glass Azriel was on. He looked coyly at Aleeme through lowered lashes, then he placed a hand on Aleeme's thigh.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice huskier than usual. "That har said the feelings I have are natural, and I should tell you. My body craves yours. Do you crave me?" he asked hopefully. "Or you?" he said to Yazdyar, who nearly choked on the piece of cheese-layered bread he'd put in his mouth. "Maybe both, one at a time. The wise har said that's a natural thought, too."
"Ag's stones," Aleeme swore. Not only was that the most Azriel had said since Aleeme had seen him in recent days, but visions of possessing his chesnari had come at him with dazzling erotic clarity. "Are you sure? Both of us? Not at once, I hope," he said, beginning to blush as not just one but three hara were hanging on every mumbled word.
"It's been a long time for you, too," Yazdyar said, encouragement in the words. "Do you think you'd be able to stay in the moment? I can chant some protection spells around us which could keep your memories at bay."
"You mean right now?" Aleeme spluttered.
"Sure!" Jaffa said. "You can use our room. It's full of positive energy. Unless that makes you uncomfortable, Yaz," he went on.
Aleeme felt as though he was suffering a second feybraiha; his nerves were howling, his ouana-lim was beginning to throb and stiffen as Azriel's hand rubbed tentatively on his top and inner thigh above his leggings.
"I'd rather be in my room," Yazdyar said apologetically. "If it were going to be just the two of them, I'd definitely suggest it, but it's a little creepy to be rooning in the bed where I was conceived."
Aleeme grimaced, waiting for the tremors of memory to shake him. A few moments went by, however, and he was still as turned on as before. Maybe he was well enough to pleasure Azriel, and take pleasure in return. His ouana-lim twitched at that encouraging thought.
"Az, come here," he growled, reaching over for Azriel's other hand and tugging him relentlessly until he straddled Aleeme's lap. Aleeme's blood felt molten; he tuned out everything else, shoving away the fact that his healer and his parents might be staring at them. Nothing mattered except getting his lips on Azriel's and sharing breath. He had to taste Azriel, the unique flavor of plum and snowflakes, to inhale it so that Azriel's essence flowed through him down to the soles of his feet.
Azriel seemed alarmed, so Aleeme put his hands around his waist, holding him close as he leaned in to kiss him. "I want you, need you so much," he murmured against Azriel's mouth, claiming his lips and sending his tongue into the welcoming heat of Azriel's mouth. He let the kiss deepen and blossom into a sharing of breath, his adoration and raw gratitude flowing into his chesnari. Aleeme sensed a hesitant mind-touch from Azriel, the barest shimmer of attraction and passion, held in check by a sense of needing to ask permission, of fear of getting things wrong.
"No, you couldn't do anything wrong," Aleeme said aloud, responding to the unspoken worry. "Do you remember what it's like? Taking aruna?"
Azriel's gaze grew both sly and heated. He reached behind his back and took one of Aleeme's hands in his, bringing it between his legs so Aleeme could feel the damp spot at his groin.
"My love, my temple," Aleeme groaned, fingering the wet cloth that separated him from the folds of Azriel's soaking soume-lam. "Sweet Ag, it's been so long," he choked out, lust and a profound longing causing a tumult to roar in his blood. "Let me worship you. We need to go inside and get naked. Now."
Azriel was grinding against Aleeme's hand, the fabric now nearly drenched. With a sense of decorum vanishing faster than wine at one of Cobweb's parties, Aleeme forced his hands onto Azriel's shoulders, peering around him at the amused faces of Yazdyar's parents. The healer himself had a predatory look in his eyes which didn't shock Aleeme as much as it might have.
"I'll show you to my room," Yazdyar said as he stood up. His own arousal was immediately apparent, a fair-sized mound showing underneath his robes.
"Dinner won't be for a couple of hours yet," Jaffa said jovially. "Don't rush through anything on our account."
"Effective healing does take time," Yazdyar said, smiling broadly before he downed his wine and gave the glass to his hostling.
Hand in hand, Aleeme and Azriel followed Yazdyar into the house and down a corridor to a doorway on the right side.
"I don't live here anymore, only visit from time to time, so it's not as tidy as my house is," Yazdyar said with slight embarrassment.
"If there's a bed we'll be just fine," Aleeme said throatily, swatting Azriel on the backside as he entered. Impulsively Aleeme grabbed Yazdyar around the neck and pulled him in for a scorching kiss that quickly changed to sharing breath. Aleeme was drowning, then soaring on the images: he was bathed in the Ferelithian's taste, of sunset and the sweet tangy juice of an exotic fruit. He swooned, knees literally buckling as he sagged against the healer. Yazdyar pulled back, gasping for air and laughing.
"You're so passionate!" he said, cupping Aleeme's jaw and staring at him wide-eyed.
Aleeme saw wonder and a wellspring of desire in the healer's gaze. He'd never experienced any specific healing in regards to aruna, and Aleeme assumed that Yazdyar's enthusiastic ardor would express itself like this for anyhar he treated. Given the overwhelming excitement he'd felt as they'd just shared breath, he and Azriel both would be exhausted and utterly satisfied before the afternoon was over.
"Go. Take aruna with Azriel. I'll chant protection and healing, then when you've taken your pleasure with each other, I'll focus on Azriel. I'll save my time with you for last," Yazdyar murmured, swiping his tongue along Aleeme's lips before he nipped at them and exhaled, sending an image of himself poised between Aleeme's legs.
A whimpering noise brought Aleeme back to himself and away from the healer's torrid imagination. Azriel had pulled off his tunic, which lay in a crumpled heap next to his sandals and socks. His arms were held out to Aleeme, every gesture one of imploring.
"Be with me, please, beautiful… beloved," he said, a flicker of his former self ringing in his voice.
Aleeme walked unsteadily toward him, grateful when Azriel greedily took off his clothes and then stripped out of his leggings. There was a subtle change in the air as Yazdyar took up a low incantation and lit some candles. The delicate scent of almond and cedar emanated from a corner but then Aleeme shut everything out except Azriel. He devoured his chesnari, covering Azriel's body with kisses, mapping every inch of skin with tongue and lips, nipping and suckling, marking the taut landscape of his beloved form.
With one thrust he plunged deep into Azriel's soume-lam, burying himself over and over into the slick glove of his body. Azriel moaned and thrashed, raking his fingernails on Aleeme's sweat-slicked back. His breath, panted into Aleeme's face, was a psychedelic drug, filling Aleeme with an array of raw, brilliant emotions: desire, desperation, euphoria and frustration. Aleeme cried out as Azriel tightened the muscles of his soume-lam, the contraction rippling down the length of his ouana-lim and bringing him to the edge. From his toes, a wave of sparks flowed up to his pelvis, the tongue flashed out of his ouana-lim, striking the star ember nestled far within Azriel. Azriel shrieked, clutching at Aleeme as his body shuddered and jerked, ecstasy flashing around them in a dazzling shower. They were lights dancing on the night tide, laughing and crying, phosphorescence carried on the waves in a great arunic sea.
Aleeme had half dozed off when he felt Azriel shift beneath him. "Thank you," Azriel said, his voice raspy from the noise he'd made during their aruna.
"Any time," Aleeme whispered, kissing him firmly on his swollen lips. "I mean that."
"My…" Azriel started, looking bewildered. "My… wild child."
At the sound of his endearment, first spoken at his feybraiha, Aleeme wept, burying his face against Azriel's shoulder. He cried until there were no more tears, until his eyes hurt and his ribs were sore and he realized that the soothing sounds he heard were coming from behind him. Yazdyar held him close while Azriel tenderly combed his fingers in Aleeme's tousled hair. A soft smile curved his lips as the tendrils waved across his skin.
"Better?" Yazdyar asked, his heated breath sent directly into Aleeme's ear, eliciting a stirring of renewed interest in his groin.
"Much. But you have other plans, actual healing in mind?" he asked, relieved that he wasn't assaulted with terrible memories when he felt the healer's sizeable ouana-lim pressed against the cleft of his buttocks.
"This was a healing act, too. But yes, there's more to come. Why don't you watch, or even nap if you're tired? I'm going to spend some time with Azriel and ask him to focus on his ouana side. I have a theory that if I can get him to release some of that energy, it will free him to unbar some of his memories."
"But you'll get pleasure out of it, too?" Aleeme asked, feeling suddenly rustic and naïve.
Yazdyar's warm palm slid down so his fingers could caress the delicate skin of Aleeme's softened ouana-lim. "Most definitely," he husked, planting kisses down the column of his neck. Aleeme arched into his expert touch, though he kept his eyes open, focusing on Azriel who lay on his side, facing him.
"You remembered," he said, brushing away a tear from Azriel's long eyelashes. "You called me your wild child."
Azriel nodded, his face serious and yet peaceful. The bed creaked as Yazdyar moved off to stand up, and Aleeme rolled to his back.
"Aleeme, I'll need you to scoot over. Azriel, I crave you, too, and I have healing to give you. I'll need you to open your mind to me, and while we're like that, mind to mind, I'll pleasure you with my mouth. Is that okay with you?"
Azriel's eyes took on a glazed expression. "Yes. I'll do my best, healing har."
"Yazdyar," the Ferelithan said gently, easing back onto the bed and knee walking over to Azriel. "You can call me Yaz for short if that's easier."
"Yaz," Azriel repeated, entrusting his pliant body to the healer as he situated him into a reclining position on pillows. He spread Azriel's knees apart and tucked his own legs underneath him. Aleeme watched in surprise as the petals of Yazdyar's flowered ouana-lim slowly folded back in, the luminous bronze fading as he leaned over and started to lick and suck along the folds around Azriel's retreated ouana-lim. For some reason, Aleeme found it oddly reassuring that his healer wasn't so swept away in his arunic endeavors, and then he felt guilty for thinking that. Of all hara who deserved to be released from cares and constant vigilance to his broken-but-recovering charges, it was Yazdyar.
Despite the powerful release he'd felt having been reunited with his chesnari in aruna, Aleeme's own arousal reawakened as he watched Azriel's rosy sentinel be coaxed to hardness as Yazdyar skillfully used tongue, teeth, fingers and a seemingly tireless mouth. The smacking, wet sounds were both lewd and fanned the flames of Aleeme's rekindled desires. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Azriel's body grow taut and he grabbed at the pillows, gasping out wordless, bird-like cries with his second orgasm.
Had Yazdyar been able to break through and unleash more of Azriel's memories? Aleeme didn't want to be greedy, but he was anxious to know whether or not the Azriel he pined for would ever return, even if it was in small doses over a period of time.
"Az?" he said encouragingly, reaching out his fingers toward the shelf of his collarbone, holding them, hovering, when he didn't answer.
"Lee."
Aleeme's hand shook, so he lowered it, fanning his fingers along the ridge. "I'm here. Are you…" He bit his lip.
Azriel slowly moved his head back and forth and let his legs sprawl. "I know my name, I know you, but only in the present. I get glimpses of what we were like, snatched phrases, puzzle pieces of a life I can't fucking remember. I'm so sorry," he said, looking mournfully at Aleeme. "And I'm sorry, Yaz, for not being able to offer more."
Yazdyar held his chin in his hand, head tilted. "You were very responsive," he said warmly. "Please don't apologize or I'll get a complex."
Azriel made a half-snort, half-laugh as he tried to regain his composure. "I feel like I've been rooned to the stars and back. Would either of you mind if I curl up over there in that corner? The cushions look so cozy. You're still going to work with Lee, right?" he asked Yazdyar.
"It's only right," the healer said, holding out his palms and shrugging with nonchalance that Aleeme could somehow tell was an act.
"Okay, good," Azriel said, his voice betraying his relief. "Aleeme, I want to remember, I do," he declared, taking one of Aleeme's hands and kissing the palm. "But even if I don't, I'm entranced by you anyway. I must have been the luckiest har ever."
Aleeme blinked back the tears that blurred his vision. "You still are. Go get your rest, and then we'll eat. You've said and done more in the past few hours than you have in weeks. You're bound to be exhausted."
He watched Azriel unfurl from the bed and walk the few steps to a beckoning pile of cushions. He pulled a lightweight blanket over him as he lay on his side, an arm thrown over his head. Aleeme's attentions were drawn back to the bed. Yazdyar sat cross-legged, his ouana-lim showing signs of life once more. A glint at his navel caught Aleeme's eye and he blurted out, "What's that?"
Yazdyar's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced down, then he grinned, his face shining like a meadow after a storm.
"Piercing. Ferelithians are pretty big into that. Tattoos, too, though I haven't gotten one. Yet," he said conspiratorially, letting his gaze rake down Aleeme's body.
"Hadn't thought about it," Aleeme admitted, newly aware of a strangely familiar sensation in his groin; he was damp, wet within the soume-lam he'd thought would never again respond.
"I want to taste you," Yazdyar said, the entreaty almost painful in its honesty. "I can show you, prove to you that you're still whole. May I?"
Aleeme wanted to laugh— there was no way he could possibly have said no. He was drunk on the progress Azriel had made; loopy with the gossamer links he'd rejoined with his chesnari through their aruna, and now this stunning creature wanted to roon him as well.
"I thought you'd never ask," he purred, echoing the healer's words when Aleeme had asked him to spend the night. That had only been yesterday, he realized with a shock. With the Otherlanes travel and meeting Yazdyar's parents and being in another country, it felt as though months had passed.
"Aleeme," Yazdyar said, drawing out his name as though each syllable was a succulent flavor. "Would you… lie back? Your soume side suffered the most, and that's what I want to bring back to life," he whispered, more to himself than to Aleeme, or so it seemed from the reverential tone in the healer's voice.
Cautiously Aleeme arranged himself in the middle of the bed, letting his legs fall open, praying fervently to Lunil, his dearest dehar, that he not fall apart. Evidently the dehar was listening because Aleeme was able to feel as though he was a gift, being unwrapped at glacial speed. Yazdyar sent his tongue into Aleeme's tense muscle, finding a spot Aleeme hadn't known existed and rubbing it until it seemed to swell. It had a sound, a note— Aleeme sagged against the bed, making pitiful, needy noises when Yazdyar hummed happily against the tremulous skin, and Aleeme cried out. Yazdyar's devilish tongue reached in further, found another of the sensitive nubs, and lapped at it until it, too, rang out in the growing symphony of pleasure.
"No more!" Aleeme panted, clawing behind him at the headboard. "I don't know what you're doing, but stop. Roon me. NOW!" he cried, bucking his hips as Yazdyar hastily backed up, a dazed look on his face.
"Sikras," he said, gazing at Aleeme as though he were a feast and Yazdyar was a starving har. "You've never…?" He sat up, face glistening, his chin covered with the slightly viscous, pearlized fluid of Aleeme's essence.
"What do I taste like?"
Yazdyar slowly eased down, reaching between them to take his fully flowered ouana-lim in hand, sinking into Aleeme's body like a fish released to water.
"Taste me, and taste yourself. You're nectar," he breathed, kissing Aleeme and filling his mouth so that Aleeme tasted hot tongue and lemonwine, an ambrosia he thought had been chafed and bled from him forever.
Once again, Aleeme let Yazdyar guide him on currents of devotion. He was soaring, diving, then gliding and watching outside of his corporeal self as Yazdyar's ouana-lim slid past the sensitized sikras, seeing arunic sparks cascade to curtains of light as he was captured, held, reverenced by Yazdyar, coaxed back into his body with gentle entreaties until Aleeme let out a wounded sigh. His limbs felt so heavy.
"Sleep, dear heart, sleep."
Was that Lunil or Yazdyar?
Aleeme wasn't certain, but he nodded his agreement, stretching out his neck to receive the proffered kiss to his eyelids, and then sank into a dreamless dark.
* * * * *
The stench permeated everything. Aleeme was half-dead, anyway, what did it matter anymore? Why didn't he just die? Groaning, he tried to turn on his side only to realize that he was heavy with pearl, misshapen and aching.
"Lunil," he begged, sending out voiceless prayers to the dehar, hoping that even though he might well be insane, the dehar of love and spirit would come to rescue him, take his soul from this wretched flesh and let him loose. A pang shot through his abdomen, a fierce jab. He cried out and felt soft, dry fingers on his forehead. The touch was gentle, not at all what he expected from his torment at Fulminir. Dazed, he forced his eyes open though they seemed to be glued together.
"This is a dream," Firethorn said, gazing down at him. "Well, for you, a nightmare."
"What are you doing here?" Aleeme rasped. "Get out! Go away before Ponclast finds out you're here! Dear Ag, no, not you, too, they can't have captured you…"
He clawed at the shredded sheets, heard the faint mewling of the harling he'd borne. He rubbed at his eyes so hard he saw phantom red and white fireworks behind his eyelids.
"Aleeme. You're dreaming," Firethorn said again, patiently. "Come. Let me take you away from here for a time. I have a story I'd like to tell you, one my parents told me when I was a harling."
Though Aleeme's heart was racing, attempting valiantly to burst out of his ribs, he allowed himself to be helped to a standing position. Once he took Firethorn's hand, Aleeme discovered that they were walking on the periphery of a lake ringed with firs. The gloaming hovered around them; violet dusk canopied the sky. He was no longer with pearl.
"How?" he began, gulping. "Where are we?"
"We are in the realm of dreams. I told Yazdyar that I thought I had a part to play in your healing since I'm a dreamwalker. It's not the harish way, but it's the way of my forebears, and it does continue on. Here, let's sit by the fire."
Sure enough, a small campfire burned cheerily, looking for all the world as if somehar had just tended it and walked away. Aleeme looked up when he heard the hooting of an owl, and saw the sky blazing with stars. They glistened, hanging in the deep midnight sky as though a giant had thrown a sack of diamonds up into the heavens.
"Please, sit," Firethorn said, gesturing to a hewn log that made an inviting bench.
"I'm not… dead?" Aleeme clarified. He wasn't overly troubled by either response he might get; if this was death, it really wasn't too bad. Having Firethorn as a guide was especially appreciated. And if he was only dreaming, well, having Firethorn around made things much better than they had been.
Firethorn's lips quirked to the side, an expression that reminded Aleeme of Yazdyar.
"No. As I said, you're dreaming. I thought I might find you here; I've been seeking you out since I met you. I'm glad that you've not had to walk these trails for a few days after taking aruna with my son, but I assumed you'd be back. Anyway, I have a story to tell, and it's for you, for your Azriel, and Yazdyar. I love Yaz with all that I have, but I knew he'd run into difficulties. He suffers from having a large heart. I can blame only myself. Well, Jaffa's a softie, too."
Aleeme snorted back a laugh, grateful to be in the company of such an endearing har. He reminded him of his own hostling when he was at peace, and Aleeme was haunted by the knowledge that Flick didn't know where he was. When he woke up, he'd need to remedy that.
Firethorn nodded, evidently privy to Aleeme's thoughts in this non-world world.
"This is about the ghost of the white deer. I'm going to change the gender, since we're all hara now, holding both male and female within ourselves. Are you hungry?"
After a quick self-evaluation, Aleeme figured out that he wasn't, and shook his head. He sat down in front of the log, sitting cross-legged and warming his hands in front of the fire.
"Okay. Once there was a brave, young warrior who fell in love with the son of a powerful chieftain. The chieftain didn't like the warrior, and so he told him that he could be bonded with his harling, but only after he brought the hide of a white deer. Albino deer were exceedingly rare, and treasured for both their rarity and their pelt, used for wedding garb. The warrior went to his beloved, named Bright Moon, and he told the har that he would return within one moon with the white hide, and then they could be bonded."
Firethorn paused, taking out a piece of dried meat and a flask. After he bit off a bit of the meat and took a swig of the flask's contents, he continued his story.
"The warrior har took his sharpest arrows and knife, and he suffered greatly for three weeks amongst the briars and his own loneliness. Then, on the night of the full moon, he saw a luminous deer among the shadows. He aimed straight for the deer's heart and his aim was true. Instead of sinking to the ground to die, however, the deer charged at him with fierce eyes and deadly horns."
There was a period of silence for the fate of the warrior har, then Firethorn continued, "Bright Moon waited for his champion, who didn't return. After a few months passed, the tribe decided the warrior wasn't ever coming back. Bright Moon never sought another as his chesnari, and on the nights of the full moon, in the smoke of the campfire, he saw the white deer running, an arrow in its heart. He hoped that one day the deer would fall, and then he would be reunited with his beloved. He never lost hope."
Arms wrapped around his knees, Aleeme stared at the fire, at the wood turning to charcoal, the blue flames licking upward and becoming yellow as they cooled.
"I wish I could have Ponclast tied to a tree, or even running around out in the woods. I'd shoot the bastard," he said without his usual venom. "Why did you tell me this? And what does Yaz have to do with it?" Aleeme asked, genuinely perplexed.
Firethorn raised one eyebrow, looking very young. Aleeme suddenly realized that his dream-spirit was much younger looking than his harish manifestation; doubtless he had all kinds of stories to tell about his own upbringing and years in Castlegar. He was about to pepper the har with questions when Firethorn gave him a lazy smile, halting Aleeme's investigative torrent.
"My son loves you. He knows it's inappropriate, and yet, he fans his own flames. He meant well, I know that. He'd like to think that desire came along and sought him out, that it wasn't his fault, but the truth is, the moment Calanthe thrust you into his arms and told him to take care of you, that you were precious, he was lost."
The wood of the fire crackled and popped; Aleeme found that bitter, dark chocolate was in his fingers. He ate it gratefully, waiting to hear what else Firethorn had to say.
"You're in this story too, however. You're seeking out the elusive creature that, once he's been slain, means you'll get your loved one back. Ponclast isn't coming back, at least not in a way that you can understand. But unlike this tale from my father, and generations back into the dreamtime, you aren't bound to it. Azriel is your moon. I know that you have an affinity for Lunil, the moon dehar. He cares for you. Keep worshipping him. And continue to seek your chesnari. I don't know whether or not he'll be able to remember his past, but he's meant to be with you."
"I feel so safe with Yazdyar," Aleeme confided in Firethorn. "I'm drawn to him. Azriel first, but Yaz was there, he brought me back when I wanted to die."
"He's a compelling, deeply affectionate har," Firethorn said ruefully. "And he has his father's good looks. But I feel he's misguided. Only you can know your true thoughts, of course. I'm just here with you in this realm to tell what I think. I want to protect my son, though certainly he'd be the first to tell me to keep my big nose to myself."
"He wouldn't!" Aleeme said, indignant.
Firethorn laughed, a pleasing, resonant sound. "Of course he would. If he were being totally honest, which he never will, and thankfully this is a dream, so you won't remember it clearly either, but he hopes Azriel stays a peripheral har for you, and that he can sweep you off your feet, and you two will become chesna and live happily ever after, with Azriel there as a not-too-occasional rooning partner. He despises himself for thinking it, but he wants it more than anything. And now, beautiful, you must go back to your dreamless sleep."
"But…" Aleeme scowled, frustration blossoming against this har who had the audacity to fill his mind with stories and crazy talk about his healer's motivations.
"We may meet here again," Firethorn said, suddenly across from Aleeme and blowing gently across his face.
"You can't just…"
* * * * *
Continue to part three
Yazdyar and Aleeme burst from the Otherlanes in a shower of frost. Zephyr galloped ahead down the hill until Yazdyar reined the sedu in. Aleeme shook his head, trying to reconcile himself to his new surroundings and hoping that his disorientation would pass quickly. Yazdyar and General Aldebaran's sedu both seemed invigorated by their travel but for Aleeme, the currently safe Otherlanes were a reminder of the war so recently fought. He'd tried to convince his healer for them to travel via horse and boat, but Yazdyar insisted it would take far too long.
"I know you can handle it," he said reassuringly when Zephyr had appeared along with Afnina, Swift's sedu. Personally, Aleeme hadn't been sure that he could keep it together, passing through the strange clamor of the ethers. Although he hadn't minded traveling that way before, when he was younger, as he had when he'd first gone to We Dwell in Forever from Roselane for his feybraiha, it now reminded him of golden days long past, and his spirit was troubled.
Azriel and the healer Jerizel suddenly manifested off to their left, the sedu and riders all a bit wild-eyed and exuberant from their Otherlane travels. Afnina trotted over to them, and the two healers looked at each other without speaking. Doubtless they were communicating via mind-touch. Yazdyar was very excited; Aleeme could practically feel it in waves as he loosened his grip from around the healer's waist.
"What part of the city is your house in?" he asked as the scent of jasmine began to waft over him. There was an increasing noise of bustle and snatches of music as the sedim kept a steady pace toward the edge of the busy enclave. Aleeme felt insignificant and peripheral, damaged goods being brought into a land of happy hara who couldn't possibly guess what he'd been through since he bore no physical scars.
"I live near the water," Yazdyar replied. "But I want to see my parents first. They're anxious to meet you and Azriel. I've been telling them a lot about you."
"Really?" Aleeme said, surprised. "I wish we were in better shape. Azriel's not himself, my legs are still somewhat weak." He barked a bitter laugh. "Maybe it's for the best that they're seeing us like this. We won't break their hearts. I won't have to see them try not to cry, or see the pain on their faces as they try to reconcile what we were like… before."
"My parents aren't judgmental at all, I promise," Yazdyar said fervently. "Firethorn, my hostling, he especially sees into hara, he sees who you are at your core, not the outside trappings. My younger brother is a bit of a different story, but he's in Immanion. We'll probably see him at some point, but not at first. Jaffa's a great judge of character, and pretty easy going."
They rode in silence for a while after that as Aleeme took in the sights and sounds of the vibrant harish city. He glanced over at Azriel from time to time, watching his reactions to their new location. He seemed to enjoy looking at the brightly clothed hara, and he twisted his head this way and that as they passed through wide streets where hara hawked everything from incense to leather sandals. Eventually they navigated to a smaller cobblestone street that meandered up a hill. By this point Aleeme had stripped off his cloak as the air was much warmer and more humid than in Galhea. It felt good to have the sun's rays on his bare arms and his face; even his hair waved a bit as though seeking out its own warmth under the striking blue sky.
"This is it!" Yazdyar called over to Jerizel as they approached a house painted in a kaleidoscope of colors. No two surfaces were the same, and there was a flowing script in vivid magenta under the eaves, presumably going all the way around the house.
"It's certainly easy to pick out!" Jerizel said, laughing. "How much of the design was your idea?"
"Not a lot, actually," Yazdyar said, bringing Zephyr to a halt. He slid off of the sedu and was helping Aleeme to swing his leg over the sedu's back when the robin's egg blue front door opened.
"Thorn!" Yazdyar cried out, beaming at the ruddy-skinned har who stood in the doorway.
"Yaz! Come give your hostling a hug."
Amused, Aleeme watched Yazdyar bound up the walkway and throw himself into his hostling's arms. He was so absorbed in watching their dynamic that Aleeme started when he felt fingers brush against his.
"Azriel!" he exclaimed, and Azriel recoiled, whimpering like a kicked dog. "Oh Az, I'm so sorry. You just startled me. Please, hold my hand. That's fine," he babbled, thrusting his hand toward Azriel.
After looking from the proffered hand to Aleeme's face and back and forth a few times, Azriel finally intertwined his fingers again. Cheered, Aleeme said to him via mind-touch, Do you know who I am?
Azriel's eyes grew wide and he tapped at his head with the hand not clasped in Aleeme's, his brows furrowed at hearing a voice there that wasn't his.
"That was me," Aleeme said aloud. "It's Aleeme. Lee. Don't you remember?" Sadness and futility were pulling and picking at him, vultures feasting on the hope he'd had that Azriel had, even briefly, known who he was.
"You must be Jerizel," Yazdyar's hostling said, coming down the walk and introducing himself to the other healer. "I'm Firethorn. And you must be Aleeme," he said gently, regarding Aleeme's hair before leaning in to kiss him on both cheeks. "When I was still a harling, before my feybraiha, a pair of Colurastes hosted a pearl, the first harling to be born in Castlegar. I'd been the only harling there before Lemuel came along. You're part Colurastes, aren't you?"
"Yes. My father is Colurastes, though he spent several years with the Kakkahaar. You're unlike any har I've ever seen." Aleeme was fascinated with Firethorn's shiny, straight black hair that fell all the way past his waist, his expressive, black eyes and the prominent thin nose which similarly dominated Yazdyar's face.
"My parents were both from an ancient human tribe," Firethorn explained. "This must be Azriel. Come here, precious," he murmured, opening his arms wide.
Azriel didn't react to his name, but the message of entreaty seemed to be enough to rouse him into action. He let go of Aleeme's hand and walked into the har's arms as though he were a dear friend and not a complete stranger. Firethorn ran his hand down Azriel's hair several times while Aleeme watched, despair creeping back into his heart as he fidgeted with his tunic buttons.
"I need to return to the camp," Jerizel said to him, compassion in his expression. "Don't give up hope yet. Please let Yazdyar know I've taken Afnina back to the healing pavilions, and Zephyr will get himself back to Immanion and Ashmael Aldebaran."
Aleeme nodded absently, half-watching as the sedim and the healer began walking back down the cobbled road.
"Aleeme! Come and meet Jaffa!"
Yazdyar's gleeful voice carried from inside the house, but Aleeme looked to Firethorn, still consoling or merely holding Azriel, he couldn't tell. "We'll be in shortly," Firethorn promised. "I'll talk with you and Yaz both about your chesnari. I think between what Yaz has been taught and my ability to dreamwalk, we will be able to rescue much of this one whom you hold so dear."
"I hope so."
Aleeme had meant to sound fiercely optimistic, but the words came out as barely a whisper. Head hanging, he walked toward the house, only partially noticing the riot of blooming shrubs and wildflowers thriving in the front yard.
"In here!" Yazdyar called.
As Aleeme crossed the threshold, he almost tripped over a sleek cat sleeping inside the doorway. A skinny har with bright orange ringlets was at his side in a flash, steadying him. His worried face was covered in freckles; pale skin glowed underneath.
"You okay?" he asked, loosening his grip on Aleeme's arm. "Sorry about Serafina. She'd old and loves that spot. Damn cat gets in the way, though."
"I'm— I'm fine," Aleeme said, stuttering.
"Let's go out back," Yazdyar said. He was in what appeared to be an open kitchen, arranging some cheeses, meat slices, olives and bread on a platter. On cue, Aleeme's stomach rumbled.
"I'm Jaffa, obviously," Yazdyar's father said as he gestured toward a door, also open, which apparently led to the backyard. "Make yourself at home. Ferelithia is a wonderful place, and while I'll admit I'm biased, Yaz is an accomplished healer. I have tremendous hopes for you and your chesnari. Wine?"
"Yes, please," Aleeme said gratefully. He wandered out to the patio, wine in hand, followed closely by Yazdyar. He drank the first glass quickly and it was refilled without his needing to ask. At glass number three, Aleeme began to feel fairly relaxed, and he wondered where on earth Azriel and Firethorn were. He'd been content to listen to Yazdyar and Jaffa's banter and discussions about Teak, Yazdyar's younger brother, who was apparently quite the social status climber in Immanion's courts.
"Word's gotten back to me that he even rooned… Well, it's about time!" Yazdyar said, interrupting his line of gossip as Azriel and Firethorn ambled out to join them.
"Speaking of rooning," Firethorn said in a solemn tone, "this one has needs that should be taken care of. Soon."
Azriel seemed remarkably at ease. He also had wine in his hand. As he came and sat next to him, Aleeme idly wondered what number glass Azriel was on. He looked coyly at Aleeme through lowered lashes, then he placed a hand on Aleeme's thigh.
"You're beautiful," he said, his voice huskier than usual. "That har said the feelings I have are natural, and I should tell you. My body craves yours. Do you crave me?" he asked hopefully. "Or you?" he said to Yazdyar, who nearly choked on the piece of cheese-layered bread he'd put in his mouth. "Maybe both, one at a time. The wise har said that's a natural thought, too."
"Ag's stones," Aleeme swore. Not only was that the most Azriel had said since Aleeme had seen him in recent days, but visions of possessing his chesnari had come at him with dazzling erotic clarity. "Are you sure? Both of us? Not at once, I hope," he said, beginning to blush as not just one but three hara were hanging on every mumbled word.
"It's been a long time for you, too," Yazdyar said, encouragement in the words. "Do you think you'd be able to stay in the moment? I can chant some protection spells around us which could keep your memories at bay."
"You mean right now?" Aleeme spluttered.
"Sure!" Jaffa said. "You can use our room. It's full of positive energy. Unless that makes you uncomfortable, Yaz," he went on.
Aleeme felt as though he was suffering a second feybraiha; his nerves were howling, his ouana-lim was beginning to throb and stiffen as Azriel's hand rubbed tentatively on his top and inner thigh above his leggings.
"I'd rather be in my room," Yazdyar said apologetically. "If it were going to be just the two of them, I'd definitely suggest it, but it's a little creepy to be rooning in the bed where I was conceived."
Aleeme grimaced, waiting for the tremors of memory to shake him. A few moments went by, however, and he was still as turned on as before. Maybe he was well enough to pleasure Azriel, and take pleasure in return. His ouana-lim twitched at that encouraging thought.
"Az, come here," he growled, reaching over for Azriel's other hand and tugging him relentlessly until he straddled Aleeme's lap. Aleeme's blood felt molten; he tuned out everything else, shoving away the fact that his healer and his parents might be staring at them. Nothing mattered except getting his lips on Azriel's and sharing breath. He had to taste Azriel, the unique flavor of plum and snowflakes, to inhale it so that Azriel's essence flowed through him down to the soles of his feet.
Azriel seemed alarmed, so Aleeme put his hands around his waist, holding him close as he leaned in to kiss him. "I want you, need you so much," he murmured against Azriel's mouth, claiming his lips and sending his tongue into the welcoming heat of Azriel's mouth. He let the kiss deepen and blossom into a sharing of breath, his adoration and raw gratitude flowing into his chesnari. Aleeme sensed a hesitant mind-touch from Azriel, the barest shimmer of attraction and passion, held in check by a sense of needing to ask permission, of fear of getting things wrong.
"No, you couldn't do anything wrong," Aleeme said aloud, responding to the unspoken worry. "Do you remember what it's like? Taking aruna?"
Azriel's gaze grew both sly and heated. He reached behind his back and took one of Aleeme's hands in his, bringing it between his legs so Aleeme could feel the damp spot at his groin.
"My love, my temple," Aleeme groaned, fingering the wet cloth that separated him from the folds of Azriel's soaking soume-lam. "Sweet Ag, it's been so long," he choked out, lust and a profound longing causing a tumult to roar in his blood. "Let me worship you. We need to go inside and get naked. Now."
Azriel was grinding against Aleeme's hand, the fabric now nearly drenched. With a sense of decorum vanishing faster than wine at one of Cobweb's parties, Aleeme forced his hands onto Azriel's shoulders, peering around him at the amused faces of Yazdyar's parents. The healer himself had a predatory look in his eyes which didn't shock Aleeme as much as it might have.
"I'll show you to my room," Yazdyar said as he stood up. His own arousal was immediately apparent, a fair-sized mound showing underneath his robes.
"Dinner won't be for a couple of hours yet," Jaffa said jovially. "Don't rush through anything on our account."
"Effective healing does take time," Yazdyar said, smiling broadly before he downed his wine and gave the glass to his hostling.
Hand in hand, Aleeme and Azriel followed Yazdyar into the house and down a corridor to a doorway on the right side.
"I don't live here anymore, only visit from time to time, so it's not as tidy as my house is," Yazdyar said with slight embarrassment.
"If there's a bed we'll be just fine," Aleeme said throatily, swatting Azriel on the backside as he entered. Impulsively Aleeme grabbed Yazdyar around the neck and pulled him in for a scorching kiss that quickly changed to sharing breath. Aleeme was drowning, then soaring on the images: he was bathed in the Ferelithian's taste, of sunset and the sweet tangy juice of an exotic fruit. He swooned, knees literally buckling as he sagged against the healer. Yazdyar pulled back, gasping for air and laughing.
"You're so passionate!" he said, cupping Aleeme's jaw and staring at him wide-eyed.
Aleeme saw wonder and a wellspring of desire in the healer's gaze. He'd never experienced any specific healing in regards to aruna, and Aleeme assumed that Yazdyar's enthusiastic ardor would express itself like this for anyhar he treated. Given the overwhelming excitement he'd felt as they'd just shared breath, he and Azriel both would be exhausted and utterly satisfied before the afternoon was over.
"Go. Take aruna with Azriel. I'll chant protection and healing, then when you've taken your pleasure with each other, I'll focus on Azriel. I'll save my time with you for last," Yazdyar murmured, swiping his tongue along Aleeme's lips before he nipped at them and exhaled, sending an image of himself poised between Aleeme's legs.
A whimpering noise brought Aleeme back to himself and away from the healer's torrid imagination. Azriel had pulled off his tunic, which lay in a crumpled heap next to his sandals and socks. His arms were held out to Aleeme, every gesture one of imploring.
"Be with me, please, beautiful… beloved," he said, a flicker of his former self ringing in his voice.
Aleeme walked unsteadily toward him, grateful when Azriel greedily took off his clothes and then stripped out of his leggings. There was a subtle change in the air as Yazdyar took up a low incantation and lit some candles. The delicate scent of almond and cedar emanated from a corner but then Aleeme shut everything out except Azriel. He devoured his chesnari, covering Azriel's body with kisses, mapping every inch of skin with tongue and lips, nipping and suckling, marking the taut landscape of his beloved form.
With one thrust he plunged deep into Azriel's soume-lam, burying himself over and over into the slick glove of his body. Azriel moaned and thrashed, raking his fingernails on Aleeme's sweat-slicked back. His breath, panted into Aleeme's face, was a psychedelic drug, filling Aleeme with an array of raw, brilliant emotions: desire, desperation, euphoria and frustration. Aleeme cried out as Azriel tightened the muscles of his soume-lam, the contraction rippling down the length of his ouana-lim and bringing him to the edge. From his toes, a wave of sparks flowed up to his pelvis, the tongue flashed out of his ouana-lim, striking the star ember nestled far within Azriel. Azriel shrieked, clutching at Aleeme as his body shuddered and jerked, ecstasy flashing around them in a dazzling shower. They were lights dancing on the night tide, laughing and crying, phosphorescence carried on the waves in a great arunic sea.
Aleeme had half dozed off when he felt Azriel shift beneath him. "Thank you," Azriel said, his voice raspy from the noise he'd made during their aruna.
"Any time," Aleeme whispered, kissing him firmly on his swollen lips. "I mean that."
"My…" Azriel started, looking bewildered. "My… wild child."
At the sound of his endearment, first spoken at his feybraiha, Aleeme wept, burying his face against Azriel's shoulder. He cried until there were no more tears, until his eyes hurt and his ribs were sore and he realized that the soothing sounds he heard were coming from behind him. Yazdyar held him close while Azriel tenderly combed his fingers in Aleeme's tousled hair. A soft smile curved his lips as the tendrils waved across his skin.
"Better?" Yazdyar asked, his heated breath sent directly into Aleeme's ear, eliciting a stirring of renewed interest in his groin.
"Much. But you have other plans, actual healing in mind?" he asked, relieved that he wasn't assaulted with terrible memories when he felt the healer's sizeable ouana-lim pressed against the cleft of his buttocks.
"This was a healing act, too. But yes, there's more to come. Why don't you watch, or even nap if you're tired? I'm going to spend some time with Azriel and ask him to focus on his ouana side. I have a theory that if I can get him to release some of that energy, it will free him to unbar some of his memories."
"But you'll get pleasure out of it, too?" Aleeme asked, feeling suddenly rustic and naïve.
Yazdyar's warm palm slid down so his fingers could caress the delicate skin of Aleeme's softened ouana-lim. "Most definitely," he husked, planting kisses down the column of his neck. Aleeme arched into his expert touch, though he kept his eyes open, focusing on Azriel who lay on his side, facing him.
"You remembered," he said, brushing away a tear from Azriel's long eyelashes. "You called me your wild child."
Azriel nodded, his face serious and yet peaceful. The bed creaked as Yazdyar moved off to stand up, and Aleeme rolled to his back.
"Aleeme, I'll need you to scoot over. Azriel, I crave you, too, and I have healing to give you. I'll need you to open your mind to me, and while we're like that, mind to mind, I'll pleasure you with my mouth. Is that okay with you?"
Azriel's eyes took on a glazed expression. "Yes. I'll do my best, healing har."
"Yazdyar," the Ferelithan said gently, easing back onto the bed and knee walking over to Azriel. "You can call me Yaz for short if that's easier."
"Yaz," Azriel repeated, entrusting his pliant body to the healer as he situated him into a reclining position on pillows. He spread Azriel's knees apart and tucked his own legs underneath him. Aleeme watched in surprise as the petals of Yazdyar's flowered ouana-lim slowly folded back in, the luminous bronze fading as he leaned over and started to lick and suck along the folds around Azriel's retreated ouana-lim. For some reason, Aleeme found it oddly reassuring that his healer wasn't so swept away in his arunic endeavors, and then he felt guilty for thinking that. Of all hara who deserved to be released from cares and constant vigilance to his broken-but-recovering charges, it was Yazdyar.
Despite the powerful release he'd felt having been reunited with his chesnari in aruna, Aleeme's own arousal reawakened as he watched Azriel's rosy sentinel be coaxed to hardness as Yazdyar skillfully used tongue, teeth, fingers and a seemingly tireless mouth. The smacking, wet sounds were both lewd and fanned the flames of Aleeme's rekindled desires. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw Azriel's body grow taut and he grabbed at the pillows, gasping out wordless, bird-like cries with his second orgasm.
Had Yazdyar been able to break through and unleash more of Azriel's memories? Aleeme didn't want to be greedy, but he was anxious to know whether or not the Azriel he pined for would ever return, even if it was in small doses over a period of time.
"Az?" he said encouragingly, reaching out his fingers toward the shelf of his collarbone, holding them, hovering, when he didn't answer.
"Lee."
Aleeme's hand shook, so he lowered it, fanning his fingers along the ridge. "I'm here. Are you…" He bit his lip.
Azriel slowly moved his head back and forth and let his legs sprawl. "I know my name, I know you, but only in the present. I get glimpses of what we were like, snatched phrases, puzzle pieces of a life I can't fucking remember. I'm so sorry," he said, looking mournfully at Aleeme. "And I'm sorry, Yaz, for not being able to offer more."
Yazdyar held his chin in his hand, head tilted. "You were very responsive," he said warmly. "Please don't apologize or I'll get a complex."
Azriel made a half-snort, half-laugh as he tried to regain his composure. "I feel like I've been rooned to the stars and back. Would either of you mind if I curl up over there in that corner? The cushions look so cozy. You're still going to work with Lee, right?" he asked Yazdyar.
"It's only right," the healer said, holding out his palms and shrugging with nonchalance that Aleeme could somehow tell was an act.
"Okay, good," Azriel said, his voice betraying his relief. "Aleeme, I want to remember, I do," he declared, taking one of Aleeme's hands and kissing the palm. "But even if I don't, I'm entranced by you anyway. I must have been the luckiest har ever."
Aleeme blinked back the tears that blurred his vision. "You still are. Go get your rest, and then we'll eat. You've said and done more in the past few hours than you have in weeks. You're bound to be exhausted."
He watched Azriel unfurl from the bed and walk the few steps to a beckoning pile of cushions. He pulled a lightweight blanket over him as he lay on his side, an arm thrown over his head. Aleeme's attentions were drawn back to the bed. Yazdyar sat cross-legged, his ouana-lim showing signs of life once more. A glint at his navel caught Aleeme's eye and he blurted out, "What's that?"
Yazdyar's eyebrows furrowed as he glanced down, then he grinned, his face shining like a meadow after a storm.
"Piercing. Ferelithians are pretty big into that. Tattoos, too, though I haven't gotten one. Yet," he said conspiratorially, letting his gaze rake down Aleeme's body.
"Hadn't thought about it," Aleeme admitted, newly aware of a strangely familiar sensation in his groin; he was damp, wet within the soume-lam he'd thought would never again respond.
"I want to taste you," Yazdyar said, the entreaty almost painful in its honesty. "I can show you, prove to you that you're still whole. May I?"
Aleeme wanted to laugh— there was no way he could possibly have said no. He was drunk on the progress Azriel had made; loopy with the gossamer links he'd rejoined with his chesnari through their aruna, and now this stunning creature wanted to roon him as well.
"I thought you'd never ask," he purred, echoing the healer's words when Aleeme had asked him to spend the night. That had only been yesterday, he realized with a shock. With the Otherlanes travel and meeting Yazdyar's parents and being in another country, it felt as though months had passed.
"Aleeme," Yazdyar said, drawing out his name as though each syllable was a succulent flavor. "Would you… lie back? Your soume side suffered the most, and that's what I want to bring back to life," he whispered, more to himself than to Aleeme, or so it seemed from the reverential tone in the healer's voice.
Cautiously Aleeme arranged himself in the middle of the bed, letting his legs fall open, praying fervently to Lunil, his dearest dehar, that he not fall apart. Evidently the dehar was listening because Aleeme was able to feel as though he was a gift, being unwrapped at glacial speed. Yazdyar sent his tongue into Aleeme's tense muscle, finding a spot Aleeme hadn't known existed and rubbing it until it seemed to swell. It had a sound, a note— Aleeme sagged against the bed, making pitiful, needy noises when Yazdyar hummed happily against the tremulous skin, and Aleeme cried out. Yazdyar's devilish tongue reached in further, found another of the sensitive nubs, and lapped at it until it, too, rang out in the growing symphony of pleasure.
"No more!" Aleeme panted, clawing behind him at the headboard. "I don't know what you're doing, but stop. Roon me. NOW!" he cried, bucking his hips as Yazdyar hastily backed up, a dazed look on his face.
"Sikras," he said, gazing at Aleeme as though he were a feast and Yazdyar was a starving har. "You've never…?" He sat up, face glistening, his chin covered with the slightly viscous, pearlized fluid of Aleeme's essence.
"What do I taste like?"
Yazdyar slowly eased down, reaching between them to take his fully flowered ouana-lim in hand, sinking into Aleeme's body like a fish released to water.
"Taste me, and taste yourself. You're nectar," he breathed, kissing Aleeme and filling his mouth so that Aleeme tasted hot tongue and lemonwine, an ambrosia he thought had been chafed and bled from him forever.
Once again, Aleeme let Yazdyar guide him on currents of devotion. He was soaring, diving, then gliding and watching outside of his corporeal self as Yazdyar's ouana-lim slid past the sensitized sikras, seeing arunic sparks cascade to curtains of light as he was captured, held, reverenced by Yazdyar, coaxed back into his body with gentle entreaties until Aleeme let out a wounded sigh. His limbs felt so heavy.
"Sleep, dear heart, sleep."
Was that Lunil or Yazdyar?
Aleeme wasn't certain, but he nodded his agreement, stretching out his neck to receive the proffered kiss to his eyelids, and then sank into a dreamless dark.
* * * * *
The stench permeated everything. Aleeme was half-dead, anyway, what did it matter anymore? Why didn't he just die? Groaning, he tried to turn on his side only to realize that he was heavy with pearl, misshapen and aching.
"Lunil," he begged, sending out voiceless prayers to the dehar, hoping that even though he might well be insane, the dehar of love and spirit would come to rescue him, take his soul from this wretched flesh and let him loose. A pang shot through his abdomen, a fierce jab. He cried out and felt soft, dry fingers on his forehead. The touch was gentle, not at all what he expected from his torment at Fulminir. Dazed, he forced his eyes open though they seemed to be glued together.
"This is a dream," Firethorn said, gazing down at him. "Well, for you, a nightmare."
"What are you doing here?" Aleeme rasped. "Get out! Go away before Ponclast finds out you're here! Dear Ag, no, not you, too, they can't have captured you…"
He clawed at the shredded sheets, heard the faint mewling of the harling he'd borne. He rubbed at his eyes so hard he saw phantom red and white fireworks behind his eyelids.
"Aleeme. You're dreaming," Firethorn said again, patiently. "Come. Let me take you away from here for a time. I have a story I'd like to tell you, one my parents told me when I was a harling."
Though Aleeme's heart was racing, attempting valiantly to burst out of his ribs, he allowed himself to be helped to a standing position. Once he took Firethorn's hand, Aleeme discovered that they were walking on the periphery of a lake ringed with firs. The gloaming hovered around them; violet dusk canopied the sky. He was no longer with pearl.
"How?" he began, gulping. "Where are we?"
"We are in the realm of dreams. I told Yazdyar that I thought I had a part to play in your healing since I'm a dreamwalker. It's not the harish way, but it's the way of my forebears, and it does continue on. Here, let's sit by the fire."
Sure enough, a small campfire burned cheerily, looking for all the world as if somehar had just tended it and walked away. Aleeme looked up when he heard the hooting of an owl, and saw the sky blazing with stars. They glistened, hanging in the deep midnight sky as though a giant had thrown a sack of diamonds up into the heavens.
"Please, sit," Firethorn said, gesturing to a hewn log that made an inviting bench.
"I'm not… dead?" Aleeme clarified. He wasn't overly troubled by either response he might get; if this was death, it really wasn't too bad. Having Firethorn as a guide was especially appreciated. And if he was only dreaming, well, having Firethorn around made things much better than they had been.
Firethorn's lips quirked to the side, an expression that reminded Aleeme of Yazdyar.
"No. As I said, you're dreaming. I thought I might find you here; I've been seeking you out since I met you. I'm glad that you've not had to walk these trails for a few days after taking aruna with my son, but I assumed you'd be back. Anyway, I have a story to tell, and it's for you, for your Azriel, and Yazdyar. I love Yaz with all that I have, but I knew he'd run into difficulties. He suffers from having a large heart. I can blame only myself. Well, Jaffa's a softie, too."
Aleeme snorted back a laugh, grateful to be in the company of such an endearing har. He reminded him of his own hostling when he was at peace, and Aleeme was haunted by the knowledge that Flick didn't know where he was. When he woke up, he'd need to remedy that.
Firethorn nodded, evidently privy to Aleeme's thoughts in this non-world world.
"This is about the ghost of the white deer. I'm going to change the gender, since we're all hara now, holding both male and female within ourselves. Are you hungry?"
After a quick self-evaluation, Aleeme figured out that he wasn't, and shook his head. He sat down in front of the log, sitting cross-legged and warming his hands in front of the fire.
"Okay. Once there was a brave, young warrior who fell in love with the son of a powerful chieftain. The chieftain didn't like the warrior, and so he told him that he could be bonded with his harling, but only after he brought the hide of a white deer. Albino deer were exceedingly rare, and treasured for both their rarity and their pelt, used for wedding garb. The warrior went to his beloved, named Bright Moon, and he told the har that he would return within one moon with the white hide, and then they could be bonded."
Firethorn paused, taking out a piece of dried meat and a flask. After he bit off a bit of the meat and took a swig of the flask's contents, he continued his story.
"The warrior har took his sharpest arrows and knife, and he suffered greatly for three weeks amongst the briars and his own loneliness. Then, on the night of the full moon, he saw a luminous deer among the shadows. He aimed straight for the deer's heart and his aim was true. Instead of sinking to the ground to die, however, the deer charged at him with fierce eyes and deadly horns."
There was a period of silence for the fate of the warrior har, then Firethorn continued, "Bright Moon waited for his champion, who didn't return. After a few months passed, the tribe decided the warrior wasn't ever coming back. Bright Moon never sought another as his chesnari, and on the nights of the full moon, in the smoke of the campfire, he saw the white deer running, an arrow in its heart. He hoped that one day the deer would fall, and then he would be reunited with his beloved. He never lost hope."
Arms wrapped around his knees, Aleeme stared at the fire, at the wood turning to charcoal, the blue flames licking upward and becoming yellow as they cooled.
"I wish I could have Ponclast tied to a tree, or even running around out in the woods. I'd shoot the bastard," he said without his usual venom. "Why did you tell me this? And what does Yaz have to do with it?" Aleeme asked, genuinely perplexed.
Firethorn raised one eyebrow, looking very young. Aleeme suddenly realized that his dream-spirit was much younger looking than his harish manifestation; doubtless he had all kinds of stories to tell about his own upbringing and years in Castlegar. He was about to pepper the har with questions when Firethorn gave him a lazy smile, halting Aleeme's investigative torrent.
"My son loves you. He knows it's inappropriate, and yet, he fans his own flames. He meant well, I know that. He'd like to think that desire came along and sought him out, that it wasn't his fault, but the truth is, the moment Calanthe thrust you into his arms and told him to take care of you, that you were precious, he was lost."
The wood of the fire crackled and popped; Aleeme found that bitter, dark chocolate was in his fingers. He ate it gratefully, waiting to hear what else Firethorn had to say.
"You're in this story too, however. You're seeking out the elusive creature that, once he's been slain, means you'll get your loved one back. Ponclast isn't coming back, at least not in a way that you can understand. But unlike this tale from my father, and generations back into the dreamtime, you aren't bound to it. Azriel is your moon. I know that you have an affinity for Lunil, the moon dehar. He cares for you. Keep worshipping him. And continue to seek your chesnari. I don't know whether or not he'll be able to remember his past, but he's meant to be with you."
"I feel so safe with Yazdyar," Aleeme confided in Firethorn. "I'm drawn to him. Azriel first, but Yaz was there, he brought me back when I wanted to die."
"He's a compelling, deeply affectionate har," Firethorn said ruefully. "And he has his father's good looks. But I feel he's misguided. Only you can know your true thoughts, of course. I'm just here with you in this realm to tell what I think. I want to protect my son, though certainly he'd be the first to tell me to keep my big nose to myself."
"He wouldn't!" Aleeme said, indignant.
Firethorn laughed, a pleasing, resonant sound. "Of course he would. If he were being totally honest, which he never will, and thankfully this is a dream, so you won't remember it clearly either, but he hopes Azriel stays a peripheral har for you, and that he can sweep you off your feet, and you two will become chesna and live happily ever after, with Azriel there as a not-too-occasional rooning partner. He despises himself for thinking it, but he wants it more than anything. And now, beautiful, you must go back to your dreamless sleep."
"But…" Aleeme scowled, frustration blossoming against this har who had the audacity to fill his mind with stories and crazy talk about his healer's motivations.
"We may meet here again," Firethorn said, suddenly across from Aleeme and blowing gently across his face.
"You can't just…"
* * * * *
Continue to part three