thrihyrne: Portland, OR (Yazdyar in new Wraeththu fic)
Thrihyrne ([personal profile] thrihyrne) wrote2009-02-03 08:52 pm

"Break Open the Massive Dark" part five- end and epilogue

Continued from here



You'd think given everything we went through, our families might get along better, Aleeme said irritatedly to Azriel in mind-touch.

You'd think. But we managed to come from some hara prone to dramatics.

You did,
Aleeme corrected, spooning up some creamed yams. Ulaume is on the exotic side, but he and Flick are nothing like Seel and Cobweb.

"Azriel and Aleeme, I don't have words for how glad I am to see you sitting at this table again, looking as hale and whole as you do," Swift said, his grateful, loving tone cutting through the couple's private conversation. "Aleeme, I'm pleased to see your parents here as well. Forever is always open to you both."

Aleeme couldn't help but let his glance jump over to his hostling, who did an almost admirable job of not grimacing. A quick look at Seel revealed a similar expression of barely-disguised distaste.

"Right now, however, I want to toast to the healer who spent so many hours, days and weeks to bring our children back to health. Yazdyar har Ferelith, we are indebted to you and your dedication, to those who taught you, and for your unwillingness to consider our son and his chesnari's condition hopeless."

Yazdyar didn't blush; Aleeme had noticed he'd been more detached in his demeanor since the afternoon they'd taken aruna in Vaysh's rooms, though he was still as helpful and affectionate as he always had been. A pang of loss shot through Aleeme as he watched the healer graciously bow his head in acknowledgement of the praise being heaped on him.

"Thank you, Swift, but I would be remiss if I didn't mention the har whose skills in many realms directly affecting Azriel and Aleeme far outstrip mine. I know from talking with them that his name isn't always welcome here, but without Calanthe, not only would Azriel still be mostly without his memories, but both of these beloved hara would be dead. That would have been a tragedy nohar here wants to dwell on."

He paused, obviously sensing the conflicted emotions running rampant among the hara at the dinner table at Forever. "It's been my privilege to spend such sacred time with Aleeme and Azriel, two extraordinary hara. You may well have changed the course of my life," he went on, the statement rather cryptic to Aleeme's ears, but everyhar else seemed simply entranced.

"Well, while the circumstances for your coming into our lives were horrific, again I want to thank you for giving our sons back to us. To you, Yazdyar," Swift intoned, his eyes bright. "May you have a long and successful life in your calling, and may you be given happiness at least as great as ours."

Everyhar seconded the sentiment, and Aleeme noticed that now the healer's ears had turned a rosy color. Glasses clinked and they drank to the toast. Bryony came in moments later, asking who wanted some coffee. Flick, Swift and Cobweb stayed at the table, conversing among themselves as they waited for the coffee to brew. Ulaume announced that he was off to Swift's office to use his psycaller to get in touch with Katarin, who was watching Orien while he and Flick were in Galhea. Seel made noises about some bookkeeping and began to stride out of the dining room. He stopped behind Azriel's chair, rubbing his shoulders for a moment, and nodding his thanks again to Yazdyar, who returned the gesture.

"I'd like to take a short walk if you two will show me the way to the infamous Forever summerhouse," Yazdyar said, pushing away from the table.

"Sure!" Azriel said animatedly. "It still creeps me out a bit, but it's worth visiting. An intrinsic element to the sordid history of We Dwell in Forever."

"I heard that," Cobweb said dourly, pulling his fingers through his silky hair. "Don't prejudice our guest with your biased, naïve commentary."

"I've learned to think for myself, not to worry," Yazdyar said, his lop-sided smile tugging at Aleeme's core. The healer was dressed in his Ferelithian garb; 'dashingly handsome' really were the only words Aleeme could use to describe the healer's appearance.

"You may want a coat," Azriel suggested to Yazdyar as they got to the entranceway of the large residence. "This time of year it can get chilly once the sun's set."

"Can I just borrow one of these?" Yazdyar asked, pointing to a row of hooks with woolen capes.

"Of course."

Azriel took Aleeme's hand once they were outside and Aleeme squeezed it before intertwining their fingers. In the days since Cal had helped him recover most of his memory, Azriel had been especially tactile with Aleeme. He was newly aware of their passionate history and treasuring their opportunity to continue on in life with new appreciation for being together. Just last night, in a cozy, post-aruna haze, Azriel had said he wanted to give Aleeme his blood, to make their union truly indissoluble.

"The stars here seem more brittle in your sky," Yazdyar noted, pulling Aleeme from his reverie. "It must be due to the colder air."

"You have the same constellations though, right?" Aleeme asked, breathing in the familiar tangy scent of early autumn, crisp and tart with memory.

"Yes, though I believe the night sky is quite different on the other side of the world, below the midline. I have no idea whether or not there are Wraeththu there, yet."

Azriel guided them along the path to the summerhouse and nearby lake, each caught up in their own thoughts. A waxing moon hung in the starry sky, a thin crescent that didn't provide much light. The glass panes of the partially-restored summerhouse glittered off to their right, its shadowy presence both welcome and yet mysterious. Azriel found a torch and a stash of matches he'd hidden there when he was younger. Yazdyar wandered past the burbling fountain, most of its surface a greeny color due to the moss that clung to it. A stone bench manifested itself in the flickering light and Azriel gestured to it for Yazdyar to sit down.

"That's okay," Yazdyar said quickly. "I don't need to spend a lot of time out here. I just wanted to speak with you two alone."

"I figured as much," Aleeme said ruefully. "This being our first few days back, I think our parents and Azriel's highhostling are rather unwilling to let us out of their sight, even to go to bed alone."

"I can't blame them," Yazdyar said, his tone sympathetic.

"Oh, we have news, too!" Azriel said, smiling widely and giving Aleeme a fiercely loving glance before turning back to the healer. "We're going to be blood bonded. We haven't decided on when, but it seems like the most natural thing in the world to do."

Yazdyar's expression became inscrutable, but then he, too, smiled and appeared genuinely pleased for them. "That's tremendous. I'm so glad that you've regained so much that could have been lost forever." He looked from Azriel to Aleeme, who suddenly felt a shiver of misapprehension at what Yazdyar would say next. "This is a difficult topic to bring up, but have you thought about going to Healing Gardens to visit the harling you bore?"

It was more shocking and just as painful as a kick to the gut. Aleeme violently shook his head.

"No. Never. Cobweb doesn't want that creature to be raised in Forever and I don't want to see it."

"Him," Yazdyar corrected, mildly.

Aleeme found a vitriolic rage blooming in him with a ferocity that shocked him. "No. The answer is NO!" he said through gritted teeth, clenching Azriel's fingers. "I wish it had died."

"The harling should be dead," Azriel said icily. "To the two of us and our families, it doesn't exist."

"Aleeme, Azriel," Yazdyar murmured, looking as though he were a dog kicked and beaten by its master. "I'm not suggesting that you embrace the harling into your lives. I only asked if you'd considered going to visit him. Please look at me— I'm your healer and friend. I would never recommend anything that I felt would harm you or undo the miraculous healing that you've both experienced. Before I returned to Ferelithia, I just wanted to find out your feelings on that topic, which you've dished out with no hesitation or lack of conviction. I know exactly where you stand."

The anger fell from Aleeme like a shelf of snow from a warming roof. "I'm sorry," he said, releasing Azriel's hand and walking over to Yazdyar, clinging to him in a desperate embrace. His face was pressed against the healer's collarbone as Yazdyar stood a few inches taller.

"I didn't mean to yell at you," he went on, his voice muffled as he spoke against the cape. "It's just so painful. I don't want to think about it. We want to move on, and we have the blessing from all of our extended family to leave the harling in Lisia's care. There have been enough losses and tragedies," he said as he sniffled, feeling a guilty pleasure in Yazdyar holding him so closely. "Logically I know it's not the harling's fault that it survived, but I would never be able to bear spending time with it. I'd see Ponclast in its face; I'd smell the rotten filth of that room…"

"Shhhhh. Don't think about that time," Yazdyar said soothingly against his temple. "Your father will take back all of his generous words and your highhostling will serve up my head on a freshly-polished platter if I cause you to have a flashback nightmare even as I'd presented you as being mostly recovered." He stroked Aleeme's back as Aleeme basked in his care. "Azriel? Come take Aleeme. Let's get back to the house— I could use some sheh. How about you?"

"No doubt Yarrow will join you," Azriel said, sliding his arm around Aleeme's waist as he stepped back from Yazdyar.

"I will, too," Aleeme declared, and Azriel grinned at him.

"Actually, while it's still just the three of us, I'd like to chant a blessing over you. It's in the ancient human tongue of my highhostling and highfather, a language they spoke even after they became har. My hostling learned some and passed it on to me."

"Of course."

Azriel took Aleeme's hand and they stood in front of Yazdyar, who took their free hands so that they formed a small circle. The healer closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In a melodic sing-song voice, he incanted words that were strange and unrecognizable, yet Aleeme felt their power and protection. When Yazdyar was done, they all stood in a respectful silence, eyes closed.

I'll never forget all you've done for me, Aleeme whispered in mind-touch. Already he felt the ache of loss even though he knew he would always choose Azriel, again and again, as he'd told him early in their recuperation.

I wish you happiness. Part of me will always be with you. Treasure it, because I can never get it back.

Aleeme opened his eyes and saw the profound defeat stamped on Yazdyar's features before he forced a pleasant look there instead.

"Time to take advantage of your family's hospitality," he said, letting their hands loose and adjusting his cloak.

"You're always welcome back," Azriel said, cupping Yazdyar's jaw in his hands and kissing him firmly. "I'd be insulted if you don't stay in touch. You're bound to us for life, now!"

An enigmatic smile lifted the corners of Yazdyar's lips as he looked from Azriel to Aleeme.

"Yes, I am."

* * * * *

Epilogue


At the sound of an approaching horse, Aleeme looked up from the pumpkin patch where he was weeding. Leef, one of the former Varrish soldiers now part of the Parasiel volunteer militia, rode up to him. Aleeme shielded his face with one hand against the bright midday sun and sat back on his heels, placing his trowel on the dirt.

"Hi Leef," he said, squinting as he stood up. "Can I help you with something?"

"No. I'm just delivering a letter to you that came to the carrier at Galhea. We don't get a lot of actual post and packages that way any more, but this came for you, from Ferelithia."

He threw his cloak back over his shoulder and reached into a vest pocket, pulling out a bright red envelope. Leef handed it to Aleeme, who looked quizzically at it, his brows furrowed. Flipping it over, he saw Yazdyar's name and address and smiled widely.

"Ah, good," Leef said, sounding relieved. "I was hoping it would be correspondence you'd want to receive."

"Well, I haven't heard much from Healer Yazdyar since he went back home," Aleeme admitted, wiping his hands on his canvas leggings. As excited as he was to hear from the healer, he wanted to read the letter in private, especially since he noted it was addressed solely to him, not Azriel and him. "How are things with you?" he asked at an attempt at polite conversation.

"Oh, they're fine," the sturdy har said, taking his horse's reins back into two hands. "Need to get back to my shop, though. Lots of hara have brought their leather goods to be repaired and there are only the four of us."

"Thanks for taking the time to bring this out to me," Aleeme said, tucking the vivid letter into the leather bag he'd brought out to the garden. "Am I missing anything going on in town?"

Leef snorted. "Hardly. But that's okay— I've been through enough excitement in recent months and years. I'll take the relative boredom of regular life. You're welcome to drop by, of course," he said, turning his horse around back toward Forever and the main road back to the settlement. "Oh! Congratulations to you and Azriel on your blood binding ceremony. It was good for everyhar in the community to see you two and to be witness to an affirming event. To me, anyway, it was reflective of positive changes as we rebuild."

Pride flared unexpectedly in Aleeme as he looked at the former Varr soldier. "Thank you. I feel privileged to be a part of the Parasielian family and making new history here. That was really kind of you to say."

Leef seemed suddenly self-conscious. "You're welcome. It was a great party, of course. Cobweb's events are always memorable."

"That's the truth!" Aleeme said, laughing.

"Give my best to him and Snake," Leef said, giving him a gesture that was part wave and part salute as he departed. Aleeme nodded, turning to watch him as his horse trotted away.

A chilly breeze ruffled Aleeme's hair; in looking down at the pumpkins, he decided he'd done enough weeding for the day and that he'd go back to the house. First, though, was the letter. His stomach seemed to have become a residence for a small band of butterflies. There was no reason for him to be nervous, getting a hand-written letter from his former healer. And yet, there was something about it, so bright and intimate, despite its being not at all secretive.

It's just a letter, for Ag's sake! he chastised himself, but then again, he'd received precious few pieces of written correspondence in his life. He'd learned to read and write while growing up in Roselane, of course, but his parents communicated in person or, very rarely, through the ethers. This was a novelty. Shaking his head at his overactive imagination, he packed up his weeding tools and then put on his own coat and walked to a bench near a stately ancient oak. Once seated, he took time to evaluate Yazdyar's handwriting— it was reasonably legible, no extravagant flourishes and in an ink of dark teal.

The envelope was sealed with wax and had an imprint of some symbol that Aleeme couldn't recognize. He retrieved a small jet-handled knife Cobweb had given him and sliced under the flap, careful to keep the seal intact; it was an exotic aesthetic. Inside was a piece of marbled paper, folded in thirds. Aleeme's hands trembled slightly as he opened it up and then had to turn it around as it had been upside down.

    Dear Aleeme—
    Firstly, I hope you're well, you and Azriel both. I've had some new and challenging patients since I've been back, but none have made the impact you did… they couldn't. I'm sorry that I missed your blood binding ceremony. I'll be honest, it was just too much for me. Please know that I still believe I didn't overstep my bounds as your healer, but I let my imagination and affections get carried away.

    I really don't know how you'll react to what I have to say next. It's why I haven't written until now, but it seemed time for you to know. I visited with Lisia several times during my time in Galhea and checked on the status of the harling born in Fulminir.


Aleeme felt a flash of hot, then cold. All at once he could anticipate what Yazdyar had done, but his eyes had to refocus, he had to read the words himself.

    I adopted him, Aleeme. Once I knew for sure how certain you were that you wanted to go forward as though you'd never carried a pearl to term, I decided to bring him into my life. I couldn't have you, and I knew that. You and Azriel belong together, and I only ever wished for your complete healing and happiness. I'm a flawed, sometimes very idealistic har who feels things deeply, perhaps too deeply. It's not Kymer's fault that he was created by such vile means, and I intend to provide a life for him in which he's loved and protected. I suspect this means that you'll never want to see me again. It was a price I weighed in my heart for a long time.

    I hope to hear from you, but I'll understand if I don't. While I'm coming clean on all of this, your parents, Azriel's parents, Cobweb and Lisia all gave me their blessing. Your extended family was relieved more than anything, though I sensed that Swift may harbor a kernel of regret.

    How to end this letter? I'll just close by saying that my door, like my heart, is always open to you.

    With peace,
    Yazdyar


Aleeme sat, letting his eyes unfocus so that the tidy scrawl became indistinct and unreadable. He felt numb, that whatever feelings were appropriate for a situation like this were simply absent from his rather well-stocked pantry of emotions. The harling… Yazdyar… growing up in Ferelithia… Aleeme began to wish that a torrent of responses, or any response, really, would manifest itself. The harling created through pelki was dead to him, he recognized, or more appropriately, non-existent. There was no regret.

He lowered his hand into his lap and looked out across the lawns of the estate to the hills beyond, now bedecked in their colorful autumnal finery. The harling was gone from Megalithica. Ponclast was in exile in some other dimension. His younger brother Orien would soon experience his feybraiha. Cobweb tended Ithiel's grave, and he and Snake no longer slept alone.

If order existed in the world, it had settled on Aleeme and those he loved with the beauty and impermanence of new-fallen snow. Straightening his shoulders, he stood up, pocketed the letter, and heeded the silent call of his home.

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