Healers wedding, p.14
Healer's Wedding, page 14
Toward the end of the evening, Sediryl found Jahir, standing alongside Lisinthir. He’d gravitated there unless pulled elsewhere, with all the inevitability of an orbiting moon, and didn’t fight it. It was too good to see him again.
“That went off well!” Sediryl said, reaching up to kiss Jahir’s cheek, and Lisinthir’s after. “I’ve wanted to do that since I saw you, but it didn’t seem the thing in front of everyone.”
Lisinthir chuckled. “I doubt anyone would have misinterpreted it, but it is never amiss to practice discretion.”
“To the winds with discretion,” Sediryl said, turning back to Jahir. “I’m going to be here all night, enjoying a comfortable coze with the Chatcaavan Queen, and in the morning we’ll go to Ontine and have all the official business to occupy us. I want you to take Lisinthir home. To Seni.”
“Sediryl?” Jahir asked, startled.
“I assume you’re amenable?” Sediryl asked Lisinthir. “Your Queen said she didn’t mind it.”
Lisinthir’s smile was gentle. “She wouldn’t. She does not need my company, or any man’s, to stand on her own. I would indeed be amenable. I should present myself to Liolesa as a vassal, seeing as I missed the winter court… but as you say, it can wait until later tomorrow.”
“Good.” Sediryl rested a hand on Jahir’s arm, and though he didn’t need the touch to feel her sincerity it added a level of nuance to it that clarified her hopes and hungers, fit to steal his breath. “Love, you’re only going to have him a few weeks a year. This is the few weeks you have. I want you to take advantage of them.”
“Sediryl,” Jahir said, low. “It is our wedding.”
She snorted. “Yes. Our wedding. Which we’re doing because we love one another, and Goddess hear me but we want one another, and nothing you do with Lisinthir is going to change that. So I expect you—do you hear me?—I expect you to go home with him, and have the wild and wonderful cuddle I still hope to talk you into letting me watch one day. And to enjoy him until he leaves.”
When Jahir found himself incapable of answer, Lisinthir murmured, “One would do well not to argue with a lady. Particularly the one you are engaged to wed.”
“He’s always got such good sense.” Sediryl looked up into his eyes. “Say you’ll say yes? I want you to be happy. It would make me happy. Besides, you owe it to your mother to introduce him.”
He hadn’t even thought of that. “God and Lady.”
“She’ll understand. Trust me.” Sediryl’s smile was lopsided. “The things I didn’t know were acceptable around here, so long as they were kept discreet.”
“We need not do anything,” Lisinthir said. “To talk with you, my dear, after so long away… that would be nourishment enough, if you wanted nothing else.”
He did, though, and they all knew it. Even Sediryl, whose carnally-flavored hope inspired half-realized fantasies of the two of them kissing, ardently enough to make Jahir’s cheeks blush. And… all of a sudden, it struck him as funny. That two of the three people he loved dearest in the world were right here, and all of them—even Vasiht’h, were he here—would be arrayed against him on the matter. And if all three of them agreed…
“Very well.” He sighed. “Though what I have done to deserve you, my heart…”
“And what you’ve done, cousin, to have such deliciously wicked ideas in your head,” Lisinthir said, catching Sediryl’s hand and kissing its back. “I would dearly love to know.”
“It’s on your head if you go snooping,” Sediryl said, unruffled. And paused. “Only… ah… am I close?”
Lisinthir started laughing, abrupt and delighted. Sediryl looked smug. “So I am? I hoped so.”
“I will take your fiancé home now,” Lisinthir said, turning Jahir lightly by the shoulders, “ere his embarrassment paralyzes him entirely.”
“Good,” Sediryl said. “Enjoy the night, you two. Lisinthir, take care of him, please.”
“When he does not take care of me,” Lisinthir promised, his affection warm through the palm he’d left on Jahir’s shoulderblade. “I vow it, Cousin Sediryl. We will see you tomorrow.”
They wound their way through the stragglers, down the stairs and into the perfumed gardens. Lisinthir strolled at his side, hands folded behind his back. The silence, which had begun as sheepish on Jahir’s part, softened into that comfort again, so quickly.
“I’m glad you’re come,” Jahir said, shading it silver. “It would have not felt right without you.”
“I could hardly have missed it,” Lisinthir said. “Not just for the political reasons.” He shot Jahir a smile. “And not solely because of you, even. Your fiancée is delightful; I knew I would like her for you, but it was a pleasure to like her for myself, as well. She’ll do well for the world.”
“You believe?”
“I know. Because she will allow nothing else.”
Jahir smiled, and the Pattern around him shimmered like the stars overhead descending to wind him into their jeweled and eternal net. Beside him, Lisinthir inhaled, sensing it through him.
“Hold that,” Lisinthir whispered. “If you can, my Delight.”
So he did, all the way to the Pad, and over it to the one on Seni’s grounds. Lisinthir paused as they stepped out of the folly that had been constructed to house it, staring up at the sky. “Strange to travel thus on our world.”
“Very,” Jahir agreed. “We were overdue.”
“Yes.” Lisinthir smiled at him. “Lead the way, cousin.”
All the Pads were guarded: Seni’s, by Pelted in Galare livery who murmured acknowledgments to Jahir as he passed with Lisinthir behind him. It was a shorter walk than Laisrathera’s, for unlike that Pad, Seni’s permitted only a single user at a time, and in the judgment of their security folk that made it less dangerous to have the Pad sited within an easier distance of the manor. The estate was subtly lit with pin lights along its perimeter to augment the lanterns set on either side of the door, and it was quieter than Laisrathera, and Jahir was grateful.
His mother, of course, was still awake. She loved evenings the way Jahir loved mornings. They’d but entered the antechamber and begun stripping their gloves when she arrived. “Oh, but you are home so soon, my son! Don’t tell me they have broken up the party before midnight!”
“Not at all,” Jahir said, smiling. “But I’m not my best after midnight, as well you know.”
“I do.” She came to a halt. “A guest? Shall I set up a suite?”
“Please, mother.” Jahir extended a hand for Lisinthir, who gave it to him without hesitation. “May I present Lord Lauvet Imthereli? Of whom you may have heard.”
Lisinthir bowed, his free hand pressed to his breast. He had not lost his courtly graces while among dragons, but he no longer hid the aggressive edge that touched them. It made the stately elegance of his attire feel not like a lie, but like… a courtesy. One he donned on behalf of those who would otherwise find him overwhelming. “My lady. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Oh!” Jeasa said. And then, quieter. “Oh. You were the one, weren’t you. He commissioned the secret rampant for you.”
“He did, yes,” Lisinthir said. “And it saved my life. It was not the last time he saved my life, and the lives of many other people. My lady, your son is dear to me, and I am grateful for your hospitality that I might have time in his company.”
She offered him her hand, and he took it with a tender respect that tinted her cheeks. “You were the Nase Galare heir, were you not, my lord?”
“I was, yes. The Empress was so kind as to gift me the lands my father lost in the marriage.”
Jahir’s only warning was the mirthful burble that traveled her aura, and that was not warning enough. “They said you were on the catch for a rich widow, you know, to satisfy Korval Keldi Imthereli. There were women in my set who said I should hope to draw your eye. They certainly tried hard enough on their own behalves.”
“God and Lady!” Lisinthir exclaimed, and laughed. “I should have known Jahir’s streak of mischief was genetic. So, shall I ask if you ever watched me and wondered if you should flirt your fan at me, my lady?”
She giggled. “You could ask, but you would be disappointed in the answer. I’m afraid I like my swains older. Now, if I had been my son’s age…” She trailed off, her eyes resting on Jahir’s. Her voice gentled. “I think I would have found I liked you very well, Lord Lauvet.” Her regard returned to Lisinthir. “You were largely responsible for our salvation, I have heard. I am honored to house a hero of your stature.”
“I am hardly that,” Lisinthir said, “nor was I the only person involved in that salvation. But thank you for your welcome.”
Jeasa smiled at Jahir. “Why don’t you take him up to your room while I send someone to prepare a suite for him? It should be ready in half an hour, so you needn’t expect the news from a servant. I’m sure you both have a great deal you want to discuss without interruption.”
“Thank you, mother.”
“My pleasure. I’ll see you both for breakfast.” Her eyes sparkled. “I might even wake up early enough for it to please you, my son.”
“You surely will, for I have the God and Lady’s own ship-lag,” Lisinthir said. “We reset the clocks halfway here, but some part of me remains convinced it is barely afternoon.”
“Even better,” Jeasa said. “Good night, my son, my lord.”
“She is exactly what I expected of a woman who could produce you,” Lisinthir said quietly after she’d gone. “I am gratified. How did she know about the amulet?”
How had she? “A guess, perhaps,” Jahir replied, and begin leading his cousin down the hall. “Or mother’s intuition.”
“Talent?”
“Mayhap,” Jahir said.
Lisinthir glanced at him. “You did not tell her of us.”
Jahir’s footsteps slowed. “No. I had not asked you whether you would wish it known.”
His cousin smiled a little. “I appreciate your discretion, my dear… but your own mother?”
“Even so.” Jahir returned his glance then, smile whimsical. “Consent always. Yes?”
“Save when it is lovingly revoked.”
Jahir colored, but found it comfortable and familiar. “This way.”
They walked the quiet halls, ascended broad stone stairs carpeted in blue and silver and dimly lit by offworld lights tucked into sconces formerly used for lamps… through wide corridors paneled with tapestries of basilisk hunts and unicorn sightings, and at last to the door that Jahir held open for his cousin. He followed Lisinthir inside, halting at the edge of the rug, watching his lover move through the space Jahir had lived in all his life… study it with those perspicacious eyes.
“Your affianced’s wishes notwithstanding, I won’t do aught if you wish otherwise,” Lisinthir said conversationally. He was looking at the jeweled orrery, allowing Jahir the breathing space to answer. “You know that.”
“I do,” Jahir answered, soft. “But I have missed you, Lin. And if she says she is well with a thing, she is not sacrificing herself to make the offer.”
Lisinthir glanced over his shoulder, his smile just creasing his lips. “The question remains. Sediryl I know to be too sensible to throw herself on an altar… you are the one I have yet to hear offer consent. I want only your willing martyrdom, my dear.”
Jahir held out his hands, palm up, and Lisinthir answered by crossing the distance between them in two strides and catching him up, hands fisted in hair, mouth on mouth. For a long moment too full of stolen breaths, there were only kisses. And then Lisinthir rested his brow against Jahir’s and murmured in Chatcaavan, “O my Delight. You have not changed at all, save to become sweeter than honey and milk.”
“Hunter-my-better,” Jahir breathed. “Do what you will with me-your-lesser.”
Lisinthir growled against his cheekbone. “Tease,” he said in lurid red, the Eldritch word soft and wet after Chatcaavan’s clipped syllables.
Jahir hid his grin against his cousin’s mouth. “So punish me,” he answered.
Lisinthir laughed, and pulled him to the loveseat, and what transpired there was not punishment but consummation, and it filled his heart and left him needing more, and different. Tangled with his cousin on the loveseat, he chased his breath until his head stopped swimming, and by then Lisinthir was over him and the eyes that had been so busy considering his room were now considering him.
Leaning over, Lisinthir slipped his belt from the discarded clothes alongside them. With deliberate fingers, he unbuckled the frog that held his sword in place and set it aside. Jahir made no objection, but waited, body tense with want and hope.
Bending toward him, Lisinthir threaded the belt behind his neck, then slid the tongue through the buckle and pulled gently until he had himself a leash. Then he sat up, straddling Jahir, and said, “Now. Tell me why you want this so badly, cousin.”
“You did promise that I’d earned it.”
“You did, yes.” Lisinthir caressed the belt idly, thumb moving. “But this is new. And no, you will not manipulate me into marking you before your wedding. I will gladly tumble you, Galare, but I will not send you to your marriage bed with welts. And certainly not without understanding why.” He tugged gently. “So. Talk.”
“My least favorite thing,” Jahir murmured.
“Yes,” Lisinthir said. “Don’t think to escape the necessity, either. If I decide to hold you down, you won’t move.”
“I’ve been practicing,” Jahir said. “You might find me more of a challenge.”
“Not likely.” Lisinthir leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose, then, gently, his lips. His voice, though, was implacable. “I spar daily against a shapeshifter good enough to duel his way onto the throne of an empire. Twice.” He pulled at the leash. “Don’t make me ask again.”
“No,” Jahir murmured, resting his face against his cousin’s and feeling there the safety he’d been unaware of needing so badly. He luxuriated in it, letting it relax him, until at last when he opened his mouth it was to say, “I miss it.”
Lisinthir waited, which was its own torment. Too many people leaped eagerly into the spaces between words, wanting their say; Jahir had used that propensity often enough to hide. Few were those who truly wanted to dig into other people’s psyches; the glimpses they received in the most desultory of conversations was enough, and sometimes too much. But his cousin would not allow him to deflect attention... and that, right now, on this cushioned loveseat with a belt around his neck… that was love, in one of its purest and most unexpected of forms.
“Being the Voice in the Silence,” Jahir confessed. “And the Silence Between Stars. I miss… using the power. I miss power.”
“Ah,” Lisinthir said, and sighed, and kissed his cheek, let that kiss drift back to Jahir’s jaw, his neck above the leather. Another sigh there, hot and wet. “No wonder you want the striping.”
“It is too bad, isn’t it?” Jahir asked.
“No,” Lisinthir said. “But it is complicated, which is all that I expect from you, dear cousin.” He sat up. “Come. You have a bed behind one of these doors. Which…?”
“To the right.”
Lisinthir rolled off him and plucked the belt free. “No, don’t be disappointed. I will take it with me, and if I decide you require it, then I suppose Sediryl will have to forgive me if it hasn’t healed before you put yourself at her service.”
Jahir followed, his relief vast, like the sea lapping the cliffs at Ontine. He wanted to fall forward into it and drown. He waited while Lisinthir arranged himself on the bed, then allowed himself to be drawn into his cousin’s arms, his head resting on Lisinthir’s chest.
“Are you surprised?” Jahir asked, at last.
“No.” A smile then, hidden against Jahir’s hair. “And that surprises you? The exercise of power is an addiction.”
“For you,” Jahir said. “For many, it’s terrifying. Something to be avoided.”
That elicited a snort. “You are not one of them, however, O master of supererogation. There was never a responsibility set on your shoulders—by others or yourself—that you did not embrace to the point of self-abnegation.”
“It does not follow that I should love power,” Jahir said. “One might feel obliged to duty without finding it intoxicating to…”
“…walk the halls of a foreign palace and crush its soldiers with the flexure of your will?” Lisinthir murmured against his hair. “Seek injustice and cruelty and contain it with nightmare? Rise from your body and fly through the web between stars, and bring with you a thousand thousand warships to rescue all you love dear—and destroy their enemies?”
Jahir shuddered. “That was not me. And yet. And yet.”
Lisinthir caressed his cheek with the folded belt, then raised his chin with it. “You already gave up your therapy practice, my dear. Was that not penance enough for the sin of realizing you were a mind-mage, and had not the good taste to find it repugnant?”
“I fear my sin is far worse,” Jahir answered, rueful. “Not only do I not have that good taste, I mourn that I no longer have need of that talent. I go to my practice faithfully, and I think… what good this? To become better at a skill I will not need again? I have fought my last great battle—it will not come again.”
“More fool you, Galare.” Jahir looked up, startled, for the words were shadowed and black and the tension in Lisinthir’s body had the edge of a knife. “You think us done? We are not even close.”
Jahir sat up on an elbow. “What do you know? You know something.”
“We found a stranded fighter, yes,” Lisinthir answered, meeting his eyes. “One of the things my Queen will be discussing with ours, probably tomorrow.”
“A stranded fighter?” Jahir’s hand tightened into a fist. “From the people responsible for…”
“The attack on one of the colonies, yes. From him we have a vector. Second and his contingent were heading over the back of the Alliance, toward its spinward corner. And there were more of them than we expected. We’d assumed he took the military defectors, but he was met by tenders and cargo ships carrying civilians.”
