"Break Open the Massive Dark" part four
Feb. 3rd, 2009 08:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
thrihyrneContinued from here
Yazdyar guided them back down the colorful path to the winged entrance to the palace tower.
"I really am feeling a lot better," Aleeme said sheepishly as they walked past wide vases sprouting peacock feathers, going down corridors and up staircases, passing fewer and fewer hara.
"I'm sure you are, but I'd be a terrible healer if I didn't do some purifying chants, and for us to talk a little bit. Vaysh's suggestion of a soak is a great one."
"Well, I've learned to trust you, so I'll follow your lead," Aleeme said, feeling unexpectedly amenable to Yazdyar's propositions.
"Thank you for that," Yazdyar said gently. "I'm really sorry that meeting Vaysh sent you into a spiral— the news about the Tigron was startling to me as well."
Aleeme waited for the miasma of distress to take hold of him, and was pleasantly surprised when that didn't happen.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but he was… different." The words to describe him weren't forthcoming, so Aleeme stopped with that statement.
"He is, and in more ways than you'd ever imagine," Yazdyar said cryptically. They stopped in front of a door painted dark plum; swirling arcs of gold and crimson danced on its surface. Yazdyar knocked. The door opened and a har dressed in luxurious silks bowed to them, an obeisant flower.
"Vaysh said to expect you," he said in a lilting voice. "Please avail yourself of anything in his lodgings. He has a study if you'd like a particularly quiet space, and there's wine in each room. If you'd care for me to draw a bath, or to assist you in any manner, just ring any one of the silver bells you see."
Aleeme couldn't get over the har's deferential treatment; he supposed that the serving-hara at Forever were simply much more down to earth. Well, that and the fact that most all of them had been raised as Varrs. He had no idea from what tribe this rarefied har came.
"Thank you very much…" Yazdyar inflected his voice, obviously hoping to secure the har's name.
"Ocelii," he replied demurely, backing out through the doors and closing them with a quiet snicking sound.
"So do you think you could get used to having somehar like that around, catering to your every whim?" Yazdyar asked provocatively, steering Aleeme past plush chairs upholstered in buttery leather into a smaller room with an ebony desk and matching chair. There was also a chaise lounge and a small couch, several bookcases against the walls were festooned with candles and abstract glass statuaries, and windows framed by sheer burgundy curtains.
"He was easy on the eyes," Aleeme admitted. "Most of the hara here are, though. Is there some kind of alarm that goes off if a sub-beautiful har tries to enter this city of delights?" He was only half-joking.
"There's probably a mechanism that allows some to get in because they're balanced out by blindingly gorgeous hara," Yazdyar retorted, grinning. His expression grew serious as he rubbed Aleeme's shoulder. "Why don't you lie down on this chaise, close your eyes, and focus on your breathing. Clear your mind if you can, and feel your blood as it pulses through you."
"I can try. Do you mind if I have a glass of wine first?"
"No, at least not as long as you pour me one as well," Yazdyar said, his mouth quirking in a smile.
"But of course."
Aleeme drank his quickly and served himself another half a glass before lying down. The ritual didn't take very long, but Yazdyar's voice and the heat from his palms as he passed over and around Aleeme's body caused Aleeme to feel as though some lingering anger was being breathed out through his skin. Yazdyar was coaxing it out of him, allowing Aleeme to take in golden light with each deep, purposeful inhalation. For a few moments he could have sworn he was so free of heaviness of any kind that he was floating above the chaise, held gently in place by Yazdyar's intentions and affection which flowed from him, silken ribbons of thought which kept them connected. Yazdyar's flutey tones faded away and Aleeme settled back into his corporeal self.
"How do you feel?" the healer asked quietly, brushing some tendrils of hair from Aleeme's forehead.
Aleeme thought about how to describe his feelings and settled on a word that echoed in him as though his body was a struck bell.
"Liberated."
Yazdyar made a low, pleased humming sound. "That's marvelous to hear." He leaned down to retrieve his wineglass and drained it. "I'm going to summon Vaysh's lovely serving-har, and within a few minutes we'll be able to enjoy a pampering soak."
"Sounds divine," Aleeme said, sinking even further into the chair. "Just peel me up when it's ready."
"I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you like this, relaxed, at peace—"
"Roonable," Aleeme sighed, looking at Yazdyar through heavy-lidded eyes.
"You have no idea." Yazdyar's fingers drifted down Aleeme's cheek to his jaw. "Azriel is truly a lucky har."
"I thought I knew a lot about aruna," Aleeme said, leaning into the healer's touch, "but you're practically a hienama."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Yazdyar said, a huskiness creeping into his voice.
"As long as I'm not taking advantage," Aleeme said as he glanced at the healer sidelong.
"That's one of the joys of being har, now isn't it? And as you know, aruna can have tremendous healing aspects to it. Until you return to Galhea, you can take advantage of me as often as you'd like."
Aleeme smiled lazily at him, easing up to pour himself more wine as Yazdyar walked to the black desk and rang the bell that was in front of a set of drawers.
Ocelii glided in moments later, as fluid as a swan on water. He conferred quietly with Yazdyar before vanishing again, leaving behind the faintest hint of woodsy spice. Aleeme realized he was especially susceptible to the effects of the wine, but he was really enjoying the sensation of being carefree. He didn't even feel the need to think of how long it had been since he'd been without a care, so instead he lounged on the chaise, idly playing with his hair and making headway on his newest glass of wine. Yazdyar seemed to be engrossed in examining Vaysh's selection of books, making an occasional intrigued noise.
"Your bath is ready," Ocelii murmured from the doorway, bowing his head and sweeping his arm in a languid arc toward the bathroom suite.
"Thank you, Ocelli," Aleeme said, slurring only slightly.
The serving-har demurely lowered his eyes and then was gone again.
"I need to use the bathroom," Aleeme admitted, rising to his feet and heading that direction.
"I do, too," Yazdyar said, picking up a new bottle of wine as he followed Aleeme out of the study.
Once his bladder was relieved, Aleeme disrobed and placed his wineglass on the side of the square tub, its rosy marble the same color as the sand out in the courtyard they'd visited. He stepped into the hot but not scalding water which, he noticed, had been scented with freesia.
"This is sublime," he crooned, looking over to Yazdyar as he pulled his tunic over his head and then stepped out of his wide-legged pants and undergarments. "You're sublime."
He didn't feel this was being disloyal; he loved Azriel, but Azriel was meeting with the mysterious, brooding, gorgeous-by-reputation Calanthe. Aruna didn't have to mean anything: after all, it was as much a harish necessity as food, or sleep. Yazdyar opened his bottle of wine, a dark, rich red, and poured himself a glass before sinking into the tub to sit on a lowered bench next to Aleeme.
"This is dangerous territory for me," he said, his expression haunted. The healer slowly kicked his legs in the water, a flush settling in his cheeks from the heat of the bath.
"What do you mean?" Aleeme asked, though he was nearly certain where the topic was headed.
"I could fall for you so easily," Yazdyar said, his voice pained. "I haven't wanted to be involved with anyhar aside from as a friend, or the occasional rooning companion, since— well, since Cel. Celafur."
Aleeme was just drunk enough not to self-censor, and briefly to entertain ridiculous ideas of the three of them — Azriel, Yazdyar and him — living happily together. "Who was he?"
Yazdyar shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment and then reaching behind him for his wine. "He was the first har I really felt a bond with, and thought he did, too. We grew apart, which hurt, but then we got together again, and it was as though those few years in between hadn't existed. It was like being reunited with part of my soul. And then…"
He pressed his lips together until they turned white at the seam. Aleeme placed a hand on his thigh, the fingers tantalizingly near to his quiescent ouana-lim. Yazdyar relaxed his mouth, turning to Aleeme and giving him a small, grateful smile.
"Well, he'd apparently continued to hold a flame for some other har he'd been with in the interim. The other har was trying to get him back— I'd seen some letters, but I'd respected his privacy. I had no idea that while I was building a future with Cel in my head, with a house near the water in Ferelithia and maybe a harling, he was busy being led back to this other har. I came back from a grueling day of classes one day and found an eloquent note, which basically told me that what I'd been living had been a lie. I was pretty bitter."
Aleeme's heart felt bruised for the healer; he'd never gone through anything like that. Yazdyar looked so disconsolate, though he was obviously trying to smother his feelings and focus on Aleeme again.
"I hope I don't remind you of Celafur. He sounds like a real bastard," Aleeme said softly, stroking Yazdyar's leg and letting his fingers drift over to his dormant phallus, smoothing his finger pads along the soft skin. "I'll admit that I don't always know what to think about you," he went on, firming his grip as Yazdyar emitted a low groan and sank down in the water, spreading his legs. "Azriel is my chesnari, and unlike the Tigrons and Tigrina, I don't think I could bond like that to two hara at once. But you affect me, Yazdyar. The care you've taken with me, the light I see in your eyes when I'm around… After aruna with you, I feel like I could do anything."
He continued stroking Yazdyar's ouana-lim with long, unhurried movements, and with a shock, realized he himself was still very much in an ouana role.
"But I could never leave Azriel. I don't want to. You're so fucking sexy, though, and good-hearted…" Aleeme stopped, surprised at his honesty.
"I'm here to help you heal, not cause you conflict, or try and steal you away from Azriel." Yazdyar took another deep swallow of wine and placed the glass off on the rim of the tub. "It's probably for the best that you'll be going home, and soon. I could make myself crazy, wanting you and not being able to be with you in ways… I've let my imagination get the better of me. So unprofessional," he muttered as Aleeme ran his thumb over the domed top of Yazdyar's awakening ouana-lim. "Ag, you're driving me wild now!"
"I know. I want to take aruna with you. I'm not being a tease, I want you so much, need your energy, your hands, to taste you again…"
He'd slid over into Yazdyar's lap, facing him, beginning an agonizingly slow rocking motion so that their ouana-lims rubbed against each other. Yazdyar whimpered, running his hands down Aleeme's sides to cup his backside. His usual calm gaze had turned wild, almost surprised; he resembled a startled fox.
"I couldn't possibly say no," he said, gripping the swell of Aleeme's buttocks. "Share breath with me," he begged, arching into Aleeme's hand, now circling their erect stalks.
The kiss was fierce, tasting of potent wine and desperation. Aleeme was swept away in the rush of Yazdyar's passion, the feel of wet skin under his hand as he snaked the hand not already occupied around Yazdyar's wide shoulders, devouring the heated images as though they were a favorite dish and he was famished. Yazdyar was incense, filling Aleeme with dizzying heat, his desire permeating him like a living thing. Aleeme rutted against him, sensing a pulsing energy around them, lambent auroras shifting and leaping outside of actual sight. He leaned back, panting, his gaze held captive by Yazdyar's dilated eyes.
"Are we going to take aruna here?" he gasped, moving both hands so he could place them on Yazdyar's chest, drawing his thumbnails over the hardened nubs.
"We could, but I'd rather be on the bed," Yazdyar said, his mouth forming a silent 'oh' as Aleeme tugged gently on his nipples.
"Vaysh won't mind?" Aleeme asked, genuinely surprised.
"He knows me pretty well, and I suspect he expected we'd make use of the bed. He and I have been rooning companions a few times," Yazdyar said hoarsely, leaning forward to nip on the side of Aleeme's neck.
"I thought that might've been the case. Careful!" Aleeme hissed as Yazdyar sucked harder on the sensitive column of his neck. "I don't need to have a glaring sign on my skin that we've been together."
Yazdyar licked him instead, planting light kisses up his jaw to his ear until he could breathe into it. "Sorry. I could get carried away, mark your body with my teeth, knowing the bruises and imprints would fade."
A delicious shudder frissoned across Aleeme's nerves; he leaned his head back, squeezing his thighs around Yazdyar's.
"Yes, but—"
"I know, Aleeme. I won't do it. But part of me wishes I could," Yazdyar said plaintively.
"You've marked me forever by healing me," Aleeme said, lowering his head and placing his hands on Yazdyar's freckle-dusted shoulders. "We're Wraeththu, and we're not exclusive. But—"
"You don't need to say any more," Yazdyar said, kissing Aleeme into silence.
The shimmering, dancing arunic energy grew stronger as they shared breath; Aleeme felt a radiance from the healer's groin and he moaned into his mouth.
"Bed," Aleeme begged.
"Yes."
It was sweet torture, being separated, as they sloshed water getting out of the tub and then dried each other off. Aleeme held Yazdyar from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder blades and down the knobby range of his spine. The heat-reddened curve of his ass proved too tempting to resist and he bit it, not hard.
"Ow!" Yazdyar yelled, laughing. "No scarring your healer, that's hardly fair."
"Oh fine."
Aleeme retrieved the red wine and Yazdyar took their glasses before they walked into the bedroom. Apparently Ocelii had anticipated what might take place: rose petals decorated the bed coverings, a decanter of sheh and two glasses, half-full, stood on a side table, and a menagerie of thin, burning tapers let off a pleasant citrusy scent. After putting their alcohol away in lieu of the sheh, they tumbled onto the bed, rolling and kissing, clawing at each other like sparring pups. At last Aleeme straddled Yazdyar's groin again as the healer lay on his back, his hands thrown over his head in mock surrender.
"We're both ouana," Aleeme said, holding Yazdyar's jutting organ for emphasis. "What shall we do?"
"Would you find it… distressing if I were both? At once?" Yazdyar asked, looking uncertain.
"Both? How?"
Aleeme continued to stroke the luminous bronze organ, which began to flower, the petals opening just slightly.
"You just have to focus," Yazdyar said, arching up and creating a titillating friction where the base of their erections rubbed. "At first it feels like being pulled in two directions, but with practice it's unbelievable. Feel me— I'm soume, too, wet and so ready, gods," he moaned.
"Those places inside that are so intense," Aleeme said, breathing heavily, his mind reeling at the thought of being both soume and ouana at the same time.
"Sikras?"
"Yes," Aleeme purred, scooting back so he could kneel between Yazdyar's legs. "I've never tried… do you think I could reach them with my tongue?"
"Oh yes. Are you sure?"
"Definitely."
Aleeme breathed deeply of the musky scent, his sensibilities jarred by the sight of the proud ouana-lim and the damp, silken folds of Yazdyar's soume-lam that begged for attention. He sent out his tongue, tasting a salty-lemon flavor as he licked inside the petaled skin. Yazdyar groaned, the sound causing Aleeme's ouana-lim to ache in sympathy. Remembering where his own sikras were, Aleeme sought out the first sensitive nub and rubbed his tongue against it until it swelled and a small rush of Yazdyar's juices flowed onto Aleeme's chin.
"Aleeme! Oh gods, so good," Yazdyar said, spreading his thighs wider and making pleading, needy noises as Aleeme kept to his succulent task. He pressed his face in further, spurred on by the erotic sounds Yazdyar made as he delved further into his muscle and awakened the second sikra. Yazdyar cried out; Aleeme thought perhaps he was hallucinating, but it seemed as though there were overtones in the air, ringing in an ethereal harmony that corresponded to the sikras.
"In me, now," Yazdyar said through a sob. "Bury yourself, touch me, need you so much, Aleeme, my guide star…"
Wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, Aleeme sat back on his heels. He felt so powerful and confident, Yazdyar's body spread out before him, a cornucopia of sensual delights. With one long thrust, he sank into Yazdyar's body, crying out as Yazdyar gripped him with the rippling muscles of his soume-lam. Again and again, Aleeme withdrew and then pushed, his hands planted near the hollows of Yazdyar's arms. Broken moans fell from his lips as he angled deep in Yazdyar's heat, finding another sikra and sliding past it with intent until its note joined the others and Yazdyar thrashed beneath him.
"Should I—" Aleeme said, gasping, "touch you?" His heart stumbled over itself at how debauched and undone Yazdyar looked, being carried irrevocably away by the rising tide of their motions to an ecstatic pinnacle.
"I'll do it," Yazdyar said, his brown eyes shining with tears. "We're hawks on the wind. Fly with me!"
Aleeme was soaring, held aloft on wings of desire. Yazdyar's blazing star was a solitary note, ringing clear as the tongue in Aleeme's ouana-lim flickered out to graze it. His limbs jerked, their combined release crackling in a torrid cascade of spark-lightning until at last Aleeme sank down onto Yazdyar, panting for breath. The healer's stomach was unexpectedly slick, and Aleeme dazedly realized he must have climaxed in two ways at once. He took in a few shaky breaths as the resplendent curtain of arunic energy faded away and he slowly lifted his head to gaze at Yazdyar. The Ferelithian looked decidedly worn out, but sated and content.
Aleeme eased his ouana-lim from the snug confines of Yazdyar's body and settled down at his side, pulling at part of a sheet from the shambles of bed coverings to wipe the opalescent fluid from his belly.
"Thank you." Yazdyar's voice was rich, still roughened from his shouts during their passionate coupling. "You're quite talented, Aleeme. Aruna will never be the same for me," he went on, smiling at Aleeme though there was a shadow of melancholy in his words.
"Nor for me," Aleeme said. The truth of the words was heavy, and he knew he wouldn't grasp the full magnitude of what he said for many years.
Eventually Yazdyar sighed and turned on his side facing Aleeme, draping his arm over his waist. He nuzzled against the side of Aleeme's neck, occasionally mouthing kisses along his sensitive skin.
"I'll treasure this," he murmured, adjusting his legs so that his softening ouana-lim rested gently against the retracted folds of Aleeme's soume-lam.
Aleeme took in a deep breath that caught a few times, exhaling through parted lips. "You've done all that you could for us, and more," he said.
Yazdyar's eyes closed slowly, blinds being turned to shut out the light of day. "We'll return to Galhea tomorrow. It's time for you and Azriel to go home."
Aleeme let the pronouncement made in such resigned tones settle in him like disturbed sand returning to the ocean floor. He was of two minds about going home; certainly he wanted to get back to Forever with its routines and cycles, the familiar hara of the house and nearby town, and reclaiming a partnership with Azriel. The other part of him was keenly aware of the affection and attentions Yazdyar heaped on him so generously. It was terribly flattering to have two beautiful hara devoted to him. He forced himself for a moment to be brutally honest about the healer. Yazdyar hadn't overstepped any bounds as his primary caretaker, but Aleeme knew in his heart of hearts that Yazdyar had fallen for him already, though he was doing an admirable job of keeping those feelings disguised and tucked away. Should he confront Yazdyar about it, though? What purpose would that serve?
As he gave it more thought, Aleeme decided that it would do more harm than anything else to come right out and say that he knew Yazdyar wanted him for himself. Aleeme wouldn't act on an outright love declaration anyway; Azriel was his soul mate, and that would never change. That said, he was grateful for Yazdyar's ardor, even if it made him a hypocrite.
"Yazdyar?" he asked quietly, snuggling closer in the Ferelithian's arms.
"Yes?" Yazdyar answered, not opening his eyes.
"I think you're right. The next period of our healing should be done at home. It's time."
Yazdyar nodded, brushing two fleeting kisses on the crown of Aleeme's head. "I'll stay with you two for a few days. I'd like to be around for the initial period as you get used to being back in that environment."
Aleeme thought back to the day he and Azriel had been violently forced out of their room, and a tremor went through him. "We'll need you to clean our room of any lingering bad energy," he said. "Though Cobweb's surely already done that. It was ages ago, now. It seems like I've lived several lifetimes since…"
He was choked up, his body beginning to tense as the memories of being beaten and then taken through the black, mind-mauling ethers to be presented to Ponclast came rushing at him.
"You're safe now," Yazdyar said soothingly, holding Aleeme even closer. "You're safe. They won't come for you ever again."
Aleeme was gripped by a powerful need to be with Azriel. His handsome face, his slender fingers that knew how to play Aleeme's body with the skill of a virtuoso, his forthrightness and his ability to make Aleeme feel cherished simply by a glance or the feathering of his touch— Aleeme felt parched, and only Azriel's physical presence could slake his thirst.
"Yazdyar?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I really miss Azriel. Do you think we could head toward wherever he and Cal are?"
The healer was quiet for a moment, then he said, "We could do that. I think they were going to need a few hours, but I can speak with Ocelii who can probably find out the Tigron's status from another har on the staff."
"I'd appreciate that. We should clean up, too," Aleeme said, the smile audible in his voice. He leaned his head back so he could look into Yazdyar's face. His wolfish, blue-grey eyes were open now, and his expression was carefully neutral.
"Vaysh has a complicated but imaginative shower. Why don't you go enjoy it while I have a quick talk with Ocelii? I'll clean up after you and then we can seek Azriel out. Would you be adverse to having a snack before we leave?"
"No, that sounds great," Aleeme enthused. "Taking aruna with you has given me an appetite.
A cautious smile found its way to Yazdyar's lips and he gave Aleeme's backside a firm squeeze. "We were pretty energetic."
He scooted back from Aleeme, wiping at his stomach before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Aleeme watched him walk to the bathroom, presumably to get his clothes. His body wasn't as relaxed as Aleeme thought it should be, given the intensity of their climaxes. Guilt began to creep into his conscience, even though Aleeme couldn't possibly have prevented Yazdyar from having the emotions that he did. He eased up into a seated position and stretched his arms over his head. Aleeme had just stood up and taken a couple of steps toward the bathroom when Yazdyar approached him, looking determined.
"Aleeme, I need to say something, and it's not going to be easy for me to say out loud," Yazdyar said, placing his hands together as though to keep from fidgeting. "You probably already know, but I have to put it into words."
"Does it have to do with me?" Aleeme asked, and Yazdyar nodded.
"I can't act on this, but in the bath I said I could easily fall for you. It's too late." He made a mordant chuckle. "Almost from the first moment you were given to me to take care of, I've felt more for you than a healer should for a patient. I've fantasized about us being together, maybe with Azriel as well, raising a harling or two, living happily ever after. That's not how life works a lot of the time. I hope this doesn't change things— part of me is selfish and wants to whisk you away, but my responsibility first and foremost is to ensure your well-being. Not mine."
It was obvious how difficult Yazdyar found it to reveal his true desires face to face with Aleeme, and Aleeme's heart broke a little at the confession.
"I know," he said in a low voice. "And it doesn't change things. I admire your telling me. I don't think I'd have had the spine to do the same."
"I'm a pretty unique har," Yazdyar said, standing straighter. "One day, I hope, I'll find somehar to share life with. I have a lot to give, as a partner or a parent, or both."
"You do, so much," Aleeme agreed, walking the few steps to hold him, briefly, in his arms. "It'll come to pass, I just know it will."
"Well," Yazdyar started but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, looking slightly less miserable than he had when he'd finished his speech. "I don't know that it will or not, but I'm pretty sure there'll be some changes in my future. Go get washed up and I'll see if we can't get you reunited with Azriel sooner rather than later."
"Thank you."
Aleeme felt both optimistic and melancholy. At least now there were no unspoken secrets and longings, it had all been put out in the open. He gave Yazdyar a sympathetic smile, brushed the back of his hand against the soft skin of the healer's cheek, and then slowly walked past him.
* * * * *
Cal wasn't intimidating in the traditional sense. He seemed fairly subdued when Aleeme met him, but he did carry himself with an understated power and grace, much as Aleeme guessed a jungle cat would, and Cal appeared just as potentially deadly. But this Calanthe — Tigron, murderer, and seducer of several hara in Azriel's family — had also managed to work a miracle.
"Aleeme," Azriel said in a voice so saturated with raw joy that Aleeme teared up. "I'm mostly me again. I can remember," he murmured, taking a very willing Aleeme in his arms. "Good and bad and things I wish I couldn't remember, but so much about you, and us, my childhood, my feybraiha and yours."
Aleeme managed to keep his tears in check, finding himself unable to let loose his emotions while under Calanthe's piercing, violet-eyed gaze. He gave off an aura of benevolence, but there were definitely unsettling and intimidating qualities to him. Perhaps it was his infamy that preceded him, or his feral beauty. Azriel eased his hold on Aleeme and then stepped to his side so Aleeme could be properly introduced to the Tigron.
"Here he is, the other har you saved," Azriel said warmly. "This is how he's supposed to look, absolutely unforgettable."
For a moment, Aleeme's thoughts spun crazily: should he bow or do something else deferential? Calanthe just nodded and said, "I'm Cal. You look much improved from when Moon and I found you. Your healer has done his work, for sure."
"I owe you my life," Aleeme said emphatically. "Nohar else could have brought me back. I know I was nearly dead. And now you've brought Azriel back to himself. I just… I don't have words to thank you."
Cal smiled, though he seemed preoccupied. "Thank you is just fine. What would show me the most gratitude is to return to your home and enjoy life. You've been through a lot of trauma and now you're on the other side. Don't take your happiness or each other for granted."
His words seemed to be deeply personal. Aleeme knew of Cal's background, of his exile and eventual reunion with his first and lasting love. Cal was a har who'd been beaten up by life but he'd become refined by it, like gold melted down and the impurities burned away. Except that Aleeme didn't doubt that Cal was still quite flawed, and that Cal would be the first to tell anyhar that.
"I didn't take Aleeme for granted before, and I don't plan to start now!" Azriel declared, curving his arm across the small of Aleeme's back.
"Wise har," Cal agreed, scratching at his jaw. "Ah, good. Thank you," he said to a serving-har who'd brought three glasses and a decanter of some liquor that smelled intensely of licorice. "Would you two like to sit outside on the balcony? The lights of the city are quite colorful from here. I'm not so involved in Immanion's nightlife, but I can admire the view from a distance."
"Where'd Yazdyar go after he brought you here?" Azriel asked as they wandered out to the balcony edged with a sinuously carved balustrade.
"He's spending the evening with Teak and his… companion," Aleeme replied, sipping cautiously on the unfamiliar and pungent liqueur.
"Azriel told me you and the Ferelithian healer went to see Vaysh," Cal stated, raising a tawny eyebrow. He leaned against the railing, the casual jut of his hip drawing Aleeme's focus to him. Cal really was impossible to ignore.
"What did you think of him?" Cal went on, idly turning a wide silver band on his index finger with his thumb.
"Well…" Aleeme hesitated. He wasn't about to say unintended negative things about Cal's chesnari's best friend and aide.
"Don't worry," Cal said, smiling sagely. "He already has a reputation, one he wants to keep. I'm not going to go relay your comments when I see him. I was just curious."
Aleeme found his hand taken by Azriel's, their fingers intertwined. He turned and gave him a quick smile.
"Vaysh was surprising," Aleeme said, his train of thought momentarily thrown when Cal pulled a chair toward himself and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. His tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. "He's beautiful, but so cold at first. I thought he was simply tolerating having to meet me out of some responsibility to Yazdyar, but we got along once he started to let down his guard. Yazdyar hinted that he's been through a lot. It doesn't show, not on the outside, but what is obvious is that he's very protective of himself."
Cal nodded, draping his arm loosely over the back of his chair. "You're quite astute. That sums him up pretty well." He let his gaze wander to Aleeme's and Azriel's clasped hands, then back up to Aleeme's face. "You've both had pretty eventful days today. I'll ask one of the hostiaries to get a room ready for you two and your healer. Will he sleep with you?" he asked without even a hint of intrigue.
"He has before," Azriel said before giving Aleeme a smoldering look. "But I think tonight we'll want to be on our own."
Azriel's familiar touch and desire to be physically communing with Aleeme made his pulse speed up. He also felt a wave of relief that things really would be okay. He squeezed Azriel's hand, rubbing gently at Azriel's wrist with his thumb.
"There's no shortage of rooms in Phaonica," Cal noted. "I'll leave word for Yazdyar when he gets back from his night out that he'll be in the suite next to yours."
"What did you do to help Azriel?" Aleeme asked in an attempt to forestall their departure. He'd offered up so much of himself in the aruna he'd taken with Yazdyar, only a couple of hours prior. Plus he had to admit he was under Cal's sway, as susceptible to his charisma as the dizzying list of hara similarly affected who'd gone before him.
"It's a bit hard to explain in words," Cal said, the apology apparent in his eyes. "Especially to a pure-born. The word hypnotize doesn't mean anything to you, does it?"
Aleeme wracked his mind, but the word was totally unfamiliar. "No, sorry."
"It's a human term. It means to be in a trance-like state, kind of like some of the altered consciousness you've gone through with some of your caste training. I had Azriel listen to my voice while he focused on deep breathing and I was able to get him to a transcendent state. He was awake, but in a meditative place where you're able to be talk about things and remember things that you can't when you're fully conscious. Once there, I was able to guide him through some chambers of memory locked up essentially as a means of self-preservation."
"Could it happen again?" Aleeme asked. "I kept having these terrible waking flashbacks, although they're much more infrequent now. Could something happen to Azriel that would cause him to forget again?"
"I suppose that's always a possibility," Cal said thoughtfully, "but it's highly unlikely. You're both much stronger in spirit due to having survived what you did. I wouldn't spend the energy worrying about what ifs." He finished his drink and poured himself another few fingers' worth. "Go on and enjoy the luxuries of the palace. You'll be back to the real world soon enough."
"Thank you, again," Azriel said, moving away from Aleeme to give Cal a somewhat awkward hug. "We'd be dead without you, in more ways than one."
"I was in the right place at the right time," Cal drawled.
"It's more than that," Aleeme said. "But we won't press the point. Any time you'd like to come visit—"
Azriel and Cal both gave Aleeme an incredulous look.
"What? He rescued us from Ponclast," Aleeme exclaimed. "Surely even Seel can get over his issues with you from the past. Without your help, his son, and I would have died in Fulminir."
"Cobweb might be an easier nut to crack," Cal said, shaking his head. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I feel more comfortable being this side of the Girdle from him."
"Well, you do have a harling on the way too, don't you?" Aleeme said, changing the subject. "You'll be needed here for quite a while."
"Yes." Cal's expression was rather baffling; he didn't seem as happy as he should given that his chesnari was with pearl. "Pellaz is still in a fragile state, though don't feel the need to go shouting that from the rooftops," he said sardonically.
"Of course not," Azriel said. "And congratulations! How'd you know?" he asked Aleeme.
"Vaysh told us." Aleeme suddenly paled. "I'm not going to get him in trouble, am I?"
"Vaysh? In trouble?" Cal barked a laugh. "No. All of Immanion knows. Word's probably gotten over to Megalithica for anyhar there who cares. Most hara outside of the royal realms do their own thing, which is as it should be. I do think we should help with rebuilding and researching how the fuck this all came to pass so we can be sure it doesn't happen again. But Pell needs to get through his first-ever pearlbirth before anything else. And I need to be there for him."
Cal seemed to be lost in a temporary reverie. Aleeme looked at Azriel, at his doting expression and the undercurrent of desire pulsing just under the surface.
"You will be," Azriel said, resting his hand on Cal's shoulder so that the Tigron looked up. His face cleared and he smiled, resting a hand on Azriel's and patting it.
"Go on. Take a wander 'round Phaonica before you leave. Aleeme, it's very good to see you again. I must admit that you don't remind me of your hostling or father at all. Then again, most second-generation hara seem to be free of many of the issues that plagued those of us first incepted."
"I love them both dearly, but I don't resemble them in many ways," Aleeme admitted grudgingly. "Orien, however, he's a lot like Ulaume."
Cal's eyes had grown wide, his expression spooked. "Orien?"
"That's my younger brother. Ulaume's his hostling."
Cal let out a deep breath and quaffed some of his drink. "I'm sure Flick picked out the name. Nice of him to saddle an innocent har with that," he said under his breath. He waved his hand at Aleeme, who'd just opened his mouth to defend his hostling's choice. "No, not going to talk anymore about that right now. Eat, drink, be merry, roon until dawn. You've more than earned it."
Aleeme felt a pull to stay, to provoke Cal into saying what he felt, but Azriel could read the expression on his face and shook his head.
"We'll do our best," Azriel said emphatically, giving Cal's shoulder a squeeze before threading his arm behind Aleeme's waist once again and steering them back toward the main palace. "Won't we?" he breathed into Aleeme's ear, causing Aleeme's desire sluggishly to come to life.
"Yes, we will."
Continue to the end
Yazdyar guided them back down the colorful path to the winged entrance to the palace tower.
"I really am feeling a lot better," Aleeme said sheepishly as they walked past wide vases sprouting peacock feathers, going down corridors and up staircases, passing fewer and fewer hara.
"I'm sure you are, but I'd be a terrible healer if I didn't do some purifying chants, and for us to talk a little bit. Vaysh's suggestion of a soak is a great one."
"Well, I've learned to trust you, so I'll follow your lead," Aleeme said, feeling unexpectedly amenable to Yazdyar's propositions.
"Thank you for that," Yazdyar said gently. "I'm really sorry that meeting Vaysh sent you into a spiral— the news about the Tigron was startling to me as well."
Aleeme waited for the miasma of distress to take hold of him, and was pleasantly surprised when that didn't happen.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but he was… different." The words to describe him weren't forthcoming, so Aleeme stopped with that statement.
"He is, and in more ways than you'd ever imagine," Yazdyar said cryptically. They stopped in front of a door painted dark plum; swirling arcs of gold and crimson danced on its surface. Yazdyar knocked. The door opened and a har dressed in luxurious silks bowed to them, an obeisant flower.
"Vaysh said to expect you," he said in a lilting voice. "Please avail yourself of anything in his lodgings. He has a study if you'd like a particularly quiet space, and there's wine in each room. If you'd care for me to draw a bath, or to assist you in any manner, just ring any one of the silver bells you see."
Aleeme couldn't get over the har's deferential treatment; he supposed that the serving-hara at Forever were simply much more down to earth. Well, that and the fact that most all of them had been raised as Varrs. He had no idea from what tribe this rarefied har came.
"Thank you very much…" Yazdyar inflected his voice, obviously hoping to secure the har's name.
"Ocelii," he replied demurely, backing out through the doors and closing them with a quiet snicking sound.
"So do you think you could get used to having somehar like that around, catering to your every whim?" Yazdyar asked provocatively, steering Aleeme past plush chairs upholstered in buttery leather into a smaller room with an ebony desk and matching chair. There was also a chaise lounge and a small couch, several bookcases against the walls were festooned with candles and abstract glass statuaries, and windows framed by sheer burgundy curtains.
"He was easy on the eyes," Aleeme admitted. "Most of the hara here are, though. Is there some kind of alarm that goes off if a sub-beautiful har tries to enter this city of delights?" He was only half-joking.
"There's probably a mechanism that allows some to get in because they're balanced out by blindingly gorgeous hara," Yazdyar retorted, grinning. His expression grew serious as he rubbed Aleeme's shoulder. "Why don't you lie down on this chaise, close your eyes, and focus on your breathing. Clear your mind if you can, and feel your blood as it pulses through you."
"I can try. Do you mind if I have a glass of wine first?"
"No, at least not as long as you pour me one as well," Yazdyar said, his mouth quirking in a smile.
"But of course."
Aleeme drank his quickly and served himself another half a glass before lying down. The ritual didn't take very long, but Yazdyar's voice and the heat from his palms as he passed over and around Aleeme's body caused Aleeme to feel as though some lingering anger was being breathed out through his skin. Yazdyar was coaxing it out of him, allowing Aleeme to take in golden light with each deep, purposeful inhalation. For a few moments he could have sworn he was so free of heaviness of any kind that he was floating above the chaise, held gently in place by Yazdyar's intentions and affection which flowed from him, silken ribbons of thought which kept them connected. Yazdyar's flutey tones faded away and Aleeme settled back into his corporeal self.
"How do you feel?" the healer asked quietly, brushing some tendrils of hair from Aleeme's forehead.
Aleeme thought about how to describe his feelings and settled on a word that echoed in him as though his body was a struck bell.
"Liberated."
Yazdyar made a low, pleased humming sound. "That's marvelous to hear." He leaned down to retrieve his wineglass and drained it. "I'm going to summon Vaysh's lovely serving-har, and within a few minutes we'll be able to enjoy a pampering soak."
"Sounds divine," Aleeme said, sinking even further into the chair. "Just peel me up when it's ready."
"I can't tell you how pleased I am to see you like this, relaxed, at peace—"
"Roonable," Aleeme sighed, looking at Yazdyar through heavy-lidded eyes.
"You have no idea." Yazdyar's fingers drifted down Aleeme's cheek to his jaw. "Azriel is truly a lucky har."
"I thought I knew a lot about aruna," Aleeme said, leaning into the healer's touch, "but you're practically a hienama."
"Flattery will get you everywhere," Yazdyar said, a huskiness creeping into his voice.
"As long as I'm not taking advantage," Aleeme said as he glanced at the healer sidelong.
"That's one of the joys of being har, now isn't it? And as you know, aruna can have tremendous healing aspects to it. Until you return to Galhea, you can take advantage of me as often as you'd like."
Aleeme smiled lazily at him, easing up to pour himself more wine as Yazdyar walked to the black desk and rang the bell that was in front of a set of drawers.
Ocelii glided in moments later, as fluid as a swan on water. He conferred quietly with Yazdyar before vanishing again, leaving behind the faintest hint of woodsy spice. Aleeme realized he was especially susceptible to the effects of the wine, but he was really enjoying the sensation of being carefree. He didn't even feel the need to think of how long it had been since he'd been without a care, so instead he lounged on the chaise, idly playing with his hair and making headway on his newest glass of wine. Yazdyar seemed to be engrossed in examining Vaysh's selection of books, making an occasional intrigued noise.
"Your bath is ready," Ocelii murmured from the doorway, bowing his head and sweeping his arm in a languid arc toward the bathroom suite.
"Thank you, Ocelli," Aleeme said, slurring only slightly.
The serving-har demurely lowered his eyes and then was gone again.
"I need to use the bathroom," Aleeme admitted, rising to his feet and heading that direction.
"I do, too," Yazdyar said, picking up a new bottle of wine as he followed Aleeme out of the study.
Once his bladder was relieved, Aleeme disrobed and placed his wineglass on the side of the square tub, its rosy marble the same color as the sand out in the courtyard they'd visited. He stepped into the hot but not scalding water which, he noticed, had been scented with freesia.
"This is sublime," he crooned, looking over to Yazdyar as he pulled his tunic over his head and then stepped out of his wide-legged pants and undergarments. "You're sublime."
He didn't feel this was being disloyal; he loved Azriel, but Azriel was meeting with the mysterious, brooding, gorgeous-by-reputation Calanthe. Aruna didn't have to mean anything: after all, it was as much a harish necessity as food, or sleep. Yazdyar opened his bottle of wine, a dark, rich red, and poured himself a glass before sinking into the tub to sit on a lowered bench next to Aleeme.
"This is dangerous territory for me," he said, his expression haunted. The healer slowly kicked his legs in the water, a flush settling in his cheeks from the heat of the bath.
"What do you mean?" Aleeme asked, though he was nearly certain where the topic was headed.
"I could fall for you so easily," Yazdyar said, his voice pained. "I haven't wanted to be involved with anyhar aside from as a friend, or the occasional rooning companion, since— well, since Cel. Celafur."
Aleeme was just drunk enough not to self-censor, and briefly to entertain ridiculous ideas of the three of them — Azriel, Yazdyar and him — living happily together. "Who was he?"
Yazdyar shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment and then reaching behind him for his wine. "He was the first har I really felt a bond with, and thought he did, too. We grew apart, which hurt, but then we got together again, and it was as though those few years in between hadn't existed. It was like being reunited with part of my soul. And then…"
He pressed his lips together until they turned white at the seam. Aleeme placed a hand on his thigh, the fingers tantalizingly near to his quiescent ouana-lim. Yazdyar relaxed his mouth, turning to Aleeme and giving him a small, grateful smile.
"Well, he'd apparently continued to hold a flame for some other har he'd been with in the interim. The other har was trying to get him back— I'd seen some letters, but I'd respected his privacy. I had no idea that while I was building a future with Cel in my head, with a house near the water in Ferelithia and maybe a harling, he was busy being led back to this other har. I came back from a grueling day of classes one day and found an eloquent note, which basically told me that what I'd been living had been a lie. I was pretty bitter."
Aleeme's heart felt bruised for the healer; he'd never gone through anything like that. Yazdyar looked so disconsolate, though he was obviously trying to smother his feelings and focus on Aleeme again.
"I hope I don't remind you of Celafur. He sounds like a real bastard," Aleeme said softly, stroking Yazdyar's leg and letting his fingers drift over to his dormant phallus, smoothing his finger pads along the soft skin. "I'll admit that I don't always know what to think about you," he went on, firming his grip as Yazdyar emitted a low groan and sank down in the water, spreading his legs. "Azriel is my chesnari, and unlike the Tigrons and Tigrina, I don't think I could bond like that to two hara at once. But you affect me, Yazdyar. The care you've taken with me, the light I see in your eyes when I'm around… After aruna with you, I feel like I could do anything."
He continued stroking Yazdyar's ouana-lim with long, unhurried movements, and with a shock, realized he himself was still very much in an ouana role.
"But I could never leave Azriel. I don't want to. You're so fucking sexy, though, and good-hearted…" Aleeme stopped, surprised at his honesty.
"I'm here to help you heal, not cause you conflict, or try and steal you away from Azriel." Yazdyar took another deep swallow of wine and placed the glass off on the rim of the tub. "It's probably for the best that you'll be going home, and soon. I could make myself crazy, wanting you and not being able to be with you in ways… I've let my imagination get the better of me. So unprofessional," he muttered as Aleeme ran his thumb over the domed top of Yazdyar's awakening ouana-lim. "Ag, you're driving me wild now!"
"I know. I want to take aruna with you. I'm not being a tease, I want you so much, need your energy, your hands, to taste you again…"
He'd slid over into Yazdyar's lap, facing him, beginning an agonizingly slow rocking motion so that their ouana-lims rubbed against each other. Yazdyar whimpered, running his hands down Aleeme's sides to cup his backside. His usual calm gaze had turned wild, almost surprised; he resembled a startled fox.
"I couldn't possibly say no," he said, gripping the swell of Aleeme's buttocks. "Share breath with me," he begged, arching into Aleeme's hand, now circling their erect stalks.
The kiss was fierce, tasting of potent wine and desperation. Aleeme was swept away in the rush of Yazdyar's passion, the feel of wet skin under his hand as he snaked the hand not already occupied around Yazdyar's wide shoulders, devouring the heated images as though they were a favorite dish and he was famished. Yazdyar was incense, filling Aleeme with dizzying heat, his desire permeating him like a living thing. Aleeme rutted against him, sensing a pulsing energy around them, lambent auroras shifting and leaping outside of actual sight. He leaned back, panting, his gaze held captive by Yazdyar's dilated eyes.
"Are we going to take aruna here?" he gasped, moving both hands so he could place them on Yazdyar's chest, drawing his thumbnails over the hardened nubs.
"We could, but I'd rather be on the bed," Yazdyar said, his mouth forming a silent 'oh' as Aleeme tugged gently on his nipples.
"Vaysh won't mind?" Aleeme asked, genuinely surprised.
"He knows me pretty well, and I suspect he expected we'd make use of the bed. He and I have been rooning companions a few times," Yazdyar said hoarsely, leaning forward to nip on the side of Aleeme's neck.
"I thought that might've been the case. Careful!" Aleeme hissed as Yazdyar sucked harder on the sensitive column of his neck. "I don't need to have a glaring sign on my skin that we've been together."
Yazdyar licked him instead, planting light kisses up his jaw to his ear until he could breathe into it. "Sorry. I could get carried away, mark your body with my teeth, knowing the bruises and imprints would fade."
A delicious shudder frissoned across Aleeme's nerves; he leaned his head back, squeezing his thighs around Yazdyar's.
"Yes, but—"
"I know, Aleeme. I won't do it. But part of me wishes I could," Yazdyar said plaintively.
"You've marked me forever by healing me," Aleeme said, lowering his head and placing his hands on Yazdyar's freckle-dusted shoulders. "We're Wraeththu, and we're not exclusive. But—"
"You don't need to say any more," Yazdyar said, kissing Aleeme into silence.
The shimmering, dancing arunic energy grew stronger as they shared breath; Aleeme felt a radiance from the healer's groin and he moaned into his mouth.
"Bed," Aleeme begged.
"Yes."
It was sweet torture, being separated, as they sloshed water getting out of the tub and then dried each other off. Aleeme held Yazdyar from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist and kissing his shoulder blades and down the knobby range of his spine. The heat-reddened curve of his ass proved too tempting to resist and he bit it, not hard.
"Ow!" Yazdyar yelled, laughing. "No scarring your healer, that's hardly fair."
"Oh fine."
Aleeme retrieved the red wine and Yazdyar took their glasses before they walked into the bedroom. Apparently Ocelii had anticipated what might take place: rose petals decorated the bed coverings, a decanter of sheh and two glasses, half-full, stood on a side table, and a menagerie of thin, burning tapers let off a pleasant citrusy scent. After putting their alcohol away in lieu of the sheh, they tumbled onto the bed, rolling and kissing, clawing at each other like sparring pups. At last Aleeme straddled Yazdyar's groin again as the healer lay on his back, his hands thrown over his head in mock surrender.
"We're both ouana," Aleeme said, holding Yazdyar's jutting organ for emphasis. "What shall we do?"
"Would you find it… distressing if I were both? At once?" Yazdyar asked, looking uncertain.
"Both? How?"
Aleeme continued to stroke the luminous bronze organ, which began to flower, the petals opening just slightly.
"You just have to focus," Yazdyar said, arching up and creating a titillating friction where the base of their erections rubbed. "At first it feels like being pulled in two directions, but with practice it's unbelievable. Feel me— I'm soume, too, wet and so ready, gods," he moaned.
"Those places inside that are so intense," Aleeme said, breathing heavily, his mind reeling at the thought of being both soume and ouana at the same time.
"Sikras?"
"Yes," Aleeme purred, scooting back so he could kneel between Yazdyar's legs. "I've never tried… do you think I could reach them with my tongue?"
"Oh yes. Are you sure?"
"Definitely."
Aleeme breathed deeply of the musky scent, his sensibilities jarred by the sight of the proud ouana-lim and the damp, silken folds of Yazdyar's soume-lam that begged for attention. He sent out his tongue, tasting a salty-lemon flavor as he licked inside the petaled skin. Yazdyar groaned, the sound causing Aleeme's ouana-lim to ache in sympathy. Remembering where his own sikras were, Aleeme sought out the first sensitive nub and rubbed his tongue against it until it swelled and a small rush of Yazdyar's juices flowed onto Aleeme's chin.
"Aleeme! Oh gods, so good," Yazdyar said, spreading his thighs wider and making pleading, needy noises as Aleeme kept to his succulent task. He pressed his face in further, spurred on by the erotic sounds Yazdyar made as he delved further into his muscle and awakened the second sikra. Yazdyar cried out; Aleeme thought perhaps he was hallucinating, but it seemed as though there were overtones in the air, ringing in an ethereal harmony that corresponded to the sikras.
"In me, now," Yazdyar said through a sob. "Bury yourself, touch me, need you so much, Aleeme, my guide star…"
Wiping his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, Aleeme sat back on his heels. He felt so powerful and confident, Yazdyar's body spread out before him, a cornucopia of sensual delights. With one long thrust, he sank into Yazdyar's body, crying out as Yazdyar gripped him with the rippling muscles of his soume-lam. Again and again, Aleeme withdrew and then pushed, his hands planted near the hollows of Yazdyar's arms. Broken moans fell from his lips as he angled deep in Yazdyar's heat, finding another sikra and sliding past it with intent until its note joined the others and Yazdyar thrashed beneath him.
"Should I—" Aleeme said, gasping, "touch you?" His heart stumbled over itself at how debauched and undone Yazdyar looked, being carried irrevocably away by the rising tide of their motions to an ecstatic pinnacle.
"I'll do it," Yazdyar said, his brown eyes shining with tears. "We're hawks on the wind. Fly with me!"
Aleeme was soaring, held aloft on wings of desire. Yazdyar's blazing star was a solitary note, ringing clear as the tongue in Aleeme's ouana-lim flickered out to graze it. His limbs jerked, their combined release crackling in a torrid cascade of spark-lightning until at last Aleeme sank down onto Yazdyar, panting for breath. The healer's stomach was unexpectedly slick, and Aleeme dazedly realized he must have climaxed in two ways at once. He took in a few shaky breaths as the resplendent curtain of arunic energy faded away and he slowly lifted his head to gaze at Yazdyar. The Ferelithian looked decidedly worn out, but sated and content.
Aleeme eased his ouana-lim from the snug confines of Yazdyar's body and settled down at his side, pulling at part of a sheet from the shambles of bed coverings to wipe the opalescent fluid from his belly.
"Thank you." Yazdyar's voice was rich, still roughened from his shouts during their passionate coupling. "You're quite talented, Aleeme. Aruna will never be the same for me," he went on, smiling at Aleeme though there was a shadow of melancholy in his words.
"Nor for me," Aleeme said. The truth of the words was heavy, and he knew he wouldn't grasp the full magnitude of what he said for many years.
Eventually Yazdyar sighed and turned on his side facing Aleeme, draping his arm over his waist. He nuzzled against the side of Aleeme's neck, occasionally mouthing kisses along his sensitive skin.
"I'll treasure this," he murmured, adjusting his legs so that his softening ouana-lim rested gently against the retracted folds of Aleeme's soume-lam.
Aleeme took in a deep breath that caught a few times, exhaling through parted lips. "You've done all that you could for us, and more," he said.
Yazdyar's eyes closed slowly, blinds being turned to shut out the light of day. "We'll return to Galhea tomorrow. It's time for you and Azriel to go home."
Aleeme let the pronouncement made in such resigned tones settle in him like disturbed sand returning to the ocean floor. He was of two minds about going home; certainly he wanted to get back to Forever with its routines and cycles, the familiar hara of the house and nearby town, and reclaiming a partnership with Azriel. The other part of him was keenly aware of the affection and attentions Yazdyar heaped on him so generously. It was terribly flattering to have two beautiful hara devoted to him. He forced himself for a moment to be brutally honest about the healer. Yazdyar hadn't overstepped any bounds as his primary caretaker, but Aleeme knew in his heart of hearts that Yazdyar had fallen for him already, though he was doing an admirable job of keeping those feelings disguised and tucked away. Should he confront Yazdyar about it, though? What purpose would that serve?
As he gave it more thought, Aleeme decided that it would do more harm than anything else to come right out and say that he knew Yazdyar wanted him for himself. Aleeme wouldn't act on an outright love declaration anyway; Azriel was his soul mate, and that would never change. That said, he was grateful for Yazdyar's ardor, even if it made him a hypocrite.
"Yazdyar?" he asked quietly, snuggling closer in the Ferelithian's arms.
"Yes?" Yazdyar answered, not opening his eyes.
"I think you're right. The next period of our healing should be done at home. It's time."
Yazdyar nodded, brushing two fleeting kisses on the crown of Aleeme's head. "I'll stay with you two for a few days. I'd like to be around for the initial period as you get used to being back in that environment."
Aleeme thought back to the day he and Azriel had been violently forced out of their room, and a tremor went through him. "We'll need you to clean our room of any lingering bad energy," he said. "Though Cobweb's surely already done that. It was ages ago, now. It seems like I've lived several lifetimes since…"
He was choked up, his body beginning to tense as the memories of being beaten and then taken through the black, mind-mauling ethers to be presented to Ponclast came rushing at him.
"You're safe now," Yazdyar said soothingly, holding Aleeme even closer. "You're safe. They won't come for you ever again."
Aleeme was gripped by a powerful need to be with Azriel. His handsome face, his slender fingers that knew how to play Aleeme's body with the skill of a virtuoso, his forthrightness and his ability to make Aleeme feel cherished simply by a glance or the feathering of his touch— Aleeme felt parched, and only Azriel's physical presence could slake his thirst.
"Yazdyar?"
"Yes, sweetheart?"
"I really miss Azriel. Do you think we could head toward wherever he and Cal are?"
The healer was quiet for a moment, then he said, "We could do that. I think they were going to need a few hours, but I can speak with Ocelii who can probably find out the Tigron's status from another har on the staff."
"I'd appreciate that. We should clean up, too," Aleeme said, the smile audible in his voice. He leaned his head back so he could look into Yazdyar's face. His wolfish, blue-grey eyes were open now, and his expression was carefully neutral.
"Vaysh has a complicated but imaginative shower. Why don't you go enjoy it while I have a quick talk with Ocelii? I'll clean up after you and then we can seek Azriel out. Would you be adverse to having a snack before we leave?"
"No, that sounds great," Aleeme enthused. "Taking aruna with you has given me an appetite.
A cautious smile found its way to Yazdyar's lips and he gave Aleeme's backside a firm squeeze. "We were pretty energetic."
He scooted back from Aleeme, wiping at his stomach before he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Aleeme watched him walk to the bathroom, presumably to get his clothes. His body wasn't as relaxed as Aleeme thought it should be, given the intensity of their climaxes. Guilt began to creep into his conscience, even though Aleeme couldn't possibly have prevented Yazdyar from having the emotions that he did. He eased up into a seated position and stretched his arms over his head. Aleeme had just stood up and taken a couple of steps toward the bathroom when Yazdyar approached him, looking determined.
"Aleeme, I need to say something, and it's not going to be easy for me to say out loud," Yazdyar said, placing his hands together as though to keep from fidgeting. "You probably already know, but I have to put it into words."
"Does it have to do with me?" Aleeme asked, and Yazdyar nodded.
"I can't act on this, but in the bath I said I could easily fall for you. It's too late." He made a mordant chuckle. "Almost from the first moment you were given to me to take care of, I've felt more for you than a healer should for a patient. I've fantasized about us being together, maybe with Azriel as well, raising a harling or two, living happily ever after. That's not how life works a lot of the time. I hope this doesn't change things— part of me is selfish and wants to whisk you away, but my responsibility first and foremost is to ensure your well-being. Not mine."
It was obvious how difficult Yazdyar found it to reveal his true desires face to face with Aleeme, and Aleeme's heart broke a little at the confession.
"I know," he said in a low voice. "And it doesn't change things. I admire your telling me. I don't think I'd have had the spine to do the same."
"I'm a pretty unique har," Yazdyar said, standing straighter. "One day, I hope, I'll find somehar to share life with. I have a lot to give, as a partner or a parent, or both."
"You do, so much," Aleeme agreed, walking the few steps to hold him, briefly, in his arms. "It'll come to pass, I just know it will."
"Well," Yazdyar started but his voice cracked. He cleared his throat, looking slightly less miserable than he had when he'd finished his speech. "I don't know that it will or not, but I'm pretty sure there'll be some changes in my future. Go get washed up and I'll see if we can't get you reunited with Azriel sooner rather than later."
"Thank you."
Aleeme felt both optimistic and melancholy. At least now there were no unspoken secrets and longings, it had all been put out in the open. He gave Yazdyar a sympathetic smile, brushed the back of his hand against the soft skin of the healer's cheek, and then slowly walked past him.
* * * * *
Cal wasn't intimidating in the traditional sense. He seemed fairly subdued when Aleeme met him, but he did carry himself with an understated power and grace, much as Aleeme guessed a jungle cat would, and Cal appeared just as potentially deadly. But this Calanthe — Tigron, murderer, and seducer of several hara in Azriel's family — had also managed to work a miracle.
"Aleeme," Azriel said in a voice so saturated with raw joy that Aleeme teared up. "I'm mostly me again. I can remember," he murmured, taking a very willing Aleeme in his arms. "Good and bad and things I wish I couldn't remember, but so much about you, and us, my childhood, my feybraiha and yours."
Aleeme managed to keep his tears in check, finding himself unable to let loose his emotions while under Calanthe's piercing, violet-eyed gaze. He gave off an aura of benevolence, but there were definitely unsettling and intimidating qualities to him. Perhaps it was his infamy that preceded him, or his feral beauty. Azriel eased his hold on Aleeme and then stepped to his side so Aleeme could be properly introduced to the Tigron.
"Here he is, the other har you saved," Azriel said warmly. "This is how he's supposed to look, absolutely unforgettable."
For a moment, Aleeme's thoughts spun crazily: should he bow or do something else deferential? Calanthe just nodded and said, "I'm Cal. You look much improved from when Moon and I found you. Your healer has done his work, for sure."
"I owe you my life," Aleeme said emphatically. "Nohar else could have brought me back. I know I was nearly dead. And now you've brought Azriel back to himself. I just… I don't have words to thank you."
Cal smiled, though he seemed preoccupied. "Thank you is just fine. What would show me the most gratitude is to return to your home and enjoy life. You've been through a lot of trauma and now you're on the other side. Don't take your happiness or each other for granted."
His words seemed to be deeply personal. Aleeme knew of Cal's background, of his exile and eventual reunion with his first and lasting love. Cal was a har who'd been beaten up by life but he'd become refined by it, like gold melted down and the impurities burned away. Except that Aleeme didn't doubt that Cal was still quite flawed, and that Cal would be the first to tell anyhar that.
"I didn't take Aleeme for granted before, and I don't plan to start now!" Azriel declared, curving his arm across the small of Aleeme's back.
"Wise har," Cal agreed, scratching at his jaw. "Ah, good. Thank you," he said to a serving-har who'd brought three glasses and a decanter of some liquor that smelled intensely of licorice. "Would you two like to sit outside on the balcony? The lights of the city are quite colorful from here. I'm not so involved in Immanion's nightlife, but I can admire the view from a distance."
"Where'd Yazdyar go after he brought you here?" Azriel asked as they wandered out to the balcony edged with a sinuously carved balustrade.
"He's spending the evening with Teak and his… companion," Aleeme replied, sipping cautiously on the unfamiliar and pungent liqueur.
"Azriel told me you and the Ferelithian healer went to see Vaysh," Cal stated, raising a tawny eyebrow. He leaned against the railing, the casual jut of his hip drawing Aleeme's focus to him. Cal really was impossible to ignore.
"What did you think of him?" Cal went on, idly turning a wide silver band on his index finger with his thumb.
"Well…" Aleeme hesitated. He wasn't about to say unintended negative things about Cal's chesnari's best friend and aide.
"Don't worry," Cal said, smiling sagely. "He already has a reputation, one he wants to keep. I'm not going to go relay your comments when I see him. I was just curious."
Aleeme found his hand taken by Azriel's, their fingers intertwined. He turned and gave him a quick smile.
"Vaysh was surprising," Aleeme said, his train of thought momentarily thrown when Cal pulled a chair toward himself and sat down, crossing one leg over the other. His tight leather pants left nothing to the imagination. "He's beautiful, but so cold at first. I thought he was simply tolerating having to meet me out of some responsibility to Yazdyar, but we got along once he started to let down his guard. Yazdyar hinted that he's been through a lot. It doesn't show, not on the outside, but what is obvious is that he's very protective of himself."
Cal nodded, draping his arm loosely over the back of his chair. "You're quite astute. That sums him up pretty well." He let his gaze wander to Aleeme's and Azriel's clasped hands, then back up to Aleeme's face. "You've both had pretty eventful days today. I'll ask one of the hostiaries to get a room ready for you two and your healer. Will he sleep with you?" he asked without even a hint of intrigue.
"He has before," Azriel said before giving Aleeme a smoldering look. "But I think tonight we'll want to be on our own."
Azriel's familiar touch and desire to be physically communing with Aleeme made his pulse speed up. He also felt a wave of relief that things really would be okay. He squeezed Azriel's hand, rubbing gently at Azriel's wrist with his thumb.
"There's no shortage of rooms in Phaonica," Cal noted. "I'll leave word for Yazdyar when he gets back from his night out that he'll be in the suite next to yours."
"What did you do to help Azriel?" Aleeme asked in an attempt to forestall their departure. He'd offered up so much of himself in the aruna he'd taken with Yazdyar, only a couple of hours prior. Plus he had to admit he was under Cal's sway, as susceptible to his charisma as the dizzying list of hara similarly affected who'd gone before him.
"It's a bit hard to explain in words," Cal said, the apology apparent in his eyes. "Especially to a pure-born. The word hypnotize doesn't mean anything to you, does it?"
Aleeme wracked his mind, but the word was totally unfamiliar. "No, sorry."
"It's a human term. It means to be in a trance-like state, kind of like some of the altered consciousness you've gone through with some of your caste training. I had Azriel listen to my voice while he focused on deep breathing and I was able to get him to a transcendent state. He was awake, but in a meditative place where you're able to be talk about things and remember things that you can't when you're fully conscious. Once there, I was able to guide him through some chambers of memory locked up essentially as a means of self-preservation."
"Could it happen again?" Aleeme asked. "I kept having these terrible waking flashbacks, although they're much more infrequent now. Could something happen to Azriel that would cause him to forget again?"
"I suppose that's always a possibility," Cal said thoughtfully, "but it's highly unlikely. You're both much stronger in spirit due to having survived what you did. I wouldn't spend the energy worrying about what ifs." He finished his drink and poured himself another few fingers' worth. "Go on and enjoy the luxuries of the palace. You'll be back to the real world soon enough."
"Thank you, again," Azriel said, moving away from Aleeme to give Cal a somewhat awkward hug. "We'd be dead without you, in more ways than one."
"I was in the right place at the right time," Cal drawled.
"It's more than that," Aleeme said. "But we won't press the point. Any time you'd like to come visit—"
Azriel and Cal both gave Aleeme an incredulous look.
"What? He rescued us from Ponclast," Aleeme exclaimed. "Surely even Seel can get over his issues with you from the past. Without your help, his son, and I would have died in Fulminir."
"Cobweb might be an easier nut to crack," Cal said, shaking his head. "I appreciate the sentiment, but I feel more comfortable being this side of the Girdle from him."
"Well, you do have a harling on the way too, don't you?" Aleeme said, changing the subject. "You'll be needed here for quite a while."
"Yes." Cal's expression was rather baffling; he didn't seem as happy as he should given that his chesnari was with pearl. "Pellaz is still in a fragile state, though don't feel the need to go shouting that from the rooftops," he said sardonically.
"Of course not," Azriel said. "And congratulations! How'd you know?" he asked Aleeme.
"Vaysh told us." Aleeme suddenly paled. "I'm not going to get him in trouble, am I?"
"Vaysh? In trouble?" Cal barked a laugh. "No. All of Immanion knows. Word's probably gotten over to Megalithica for anyhar there who cares. Most hara outside of the royal realms do their own thing, which is as it should be. I do think we should help with rebuilding and researching how the fuck this all came to pass so we can be sure it doesn't happen again. But Pell needs to get through his first-ever pearlbirth before anything else. And I need to be there for him."
Cal seemed to be lost in a temporary reverie. Aleeme looked at Azriel, at his doting expression and the undercurrent of desire pulsing just under the surface.
"You will be," Azriel said, resting his hand on Cal's shoulder so that the Tigron looked up. His face cleared and he smiled, resting a hand on Azriel's and patting it.
"Go on. Take a wander 'round Phaonica before you leave. Aleeme, it's very good to see you again. I must admit that you don't remind me of your hostling or father at all. Then again, most second-generation hara seem to be free of many of the issues that plagued those of us first incepted."
"I love them both dearly, but I don't resemble them in many ways," Aleeme admitted grudgingly. "Orien, however, he's a lot like Ulaume."
Cal's eyes had grown wide, his expression spooked. "Orien?"
"That's my younger brother. Ulaume's his hostling."
Cal let out a deep breath and quaffed some of his drink. "I'm sure Flick picked out the name. Nice of him to saddle an innocent har with that," he said under his breath. He waved his hand at Aleeme, who'd just opened his mouth to defend his hostling's choice. "No, not going to talk anymore about that right now. Eat, drink, be merry, roon until dawn. You've more than earned it."
Aleeme felt a pull to stay, to provoke Cal into saying what he felt, but Azriel could read the expression on his face and shook his head.
"We'll do our best," Azriel said emphatically, giving Cal's shoulder a squeeze before threading his arm behind Aleeme's waist once again and steering them back toward the main palace. "Won't we?" he breathed into Aleeme's ear, causing Aleeme's desire sluggishly to come to life.
"Yes, we will."
Continue to the end