Even The Longest Day
By Camile Sinensis (Teapot)
I was asked to write this by a fellow Wraeththu fan. It’s not something that I would have thought of doing, otherwise, because generally I don’t like to blatantly contradict The Author (tugs forelock respectfully), but I hope a little suspension of disbelief and/or intervention by the Dehara will account for it!
Characters: Caeru, Cal and Pellaz. Also the long-suffering Doctor Sheeva.
Spoilers: Major spoiler for “Shades”, and also for “Ghosts”
Summary: A memorable day results in serious repercussions for Caeru, and each member of the Royal Triad finds himself caught up in his own dilemma.
Author’s email: email@example.com
Even The Longest Day
“Even the longest day has its ending”
Some days were so beautiful, so perfect, they could only be Almagabran days. Cal lay on his back staring up at a sky which stretched from one side of eternity to another in an arc of glorious blue. Not even the faintest wisp of cloud sullied those pristine heavens. The sun was golden and warm on his body and all around him the bearded stalks of grain whispered and rustled in the warm breeze. Poppy flowers trembled delicately, the paper-thin scarlet blooms scattered throughout the field like unexpected drops of blood.
He stuck a piece of straw in his mouth, and sucked on it rustically, because it seemed the appropriate thing to do. He could hear voices – comforting sounds of pleasantly unimportant conversations, but they were distant, and he could block them out if he wished.
His whole body felt completely relaxed, and he deliberately put from his mind all thoughts of work and responsibility. Today was Cuttingtide, and the entire Arilisan family had left Phaonica behind to indulge in the traditional outdoor festivities. An empty bottle of wine lay at his feet, together with the remains of some bread and fruit. He had nothing more strenuous to do than digest his lunch, or possibly even take a nap.
He tilted his head back to locate the source of the greeting, but the voice was instantly familiar, and he wasn’t displeased to have his woolgathering disturbed. He raised one hand lazily in greeting, and waggled his straw.
Rue laughed, a bright, summery sound that matched the glorious day.
“You look very relaxed down there. Mind if I join you?”
“Be my guest.”
Caeru sat down primly, pushing down some of the barley stalks with his hand, and Cal rolled over on his side to face his consort, propping himself up on one elbow.
The Tigrina was dressed all in white; a simple muslin shift which draped loosely around his body. The material was fine enough to flutter gently in the soft air currents. His hair was long and unbound, and matched the colour of the ripe grain perfectly. It too was stirred by the breeze. The sun was behind him, and the wispy material seemed to absorb the light making him look as if he was surrounded by a gauzy, glowing halo. A soft-focus vision of ethereal beauty. Cal gazed at him and felt oddly moved by the simplicity of the scene before him.
“What are you staring at?”
“What for?” Caeru feigned innocence, with wide blue eyes, but Cal knew he enjoyed flattery
“Because you are the loveliest har in all of Immanion – possibly even the whole of Almagabra. Well, except for that cute red-haired creature who performs those exotic dances in the market square every evening….”