by TS Clayton
Originally posted 2006.
This is a story I wrote for the Grissecon Challenge a couple of years ago. It never made the cut for the challenge and so I thought I’d share. Enjoy.
Rating – R
Characters – Calanthe and Pellaz
Size – 1,288 words
Author web site: http://www.sennovia.com
I lie replete, sprawled on a sea of cushions; the silk and lace caress my skin as a gentle breeze washes up my legs and chest. A sense of fulfillment flows through me. Utter satisfaction thrums deep inside my chest as a reminder of what I – we – did last night, and I know that well of power is now just waiting in the pit of my mind, needing only a spark to spring back to life, to arouse in me the splendor and unparalleled desires of my true self. That perfect, coveted spiritual state of completeness and unity that embodies and connects each and every Wraeththu alive.
But for now, I resist the urge, content to drift in a state of completion, to enjoy the silence that is no longer filled with voices – no longer filled with the unstoppable energies conjured by sex magic. The immensity of what we achieved, I think, shocked even the Hegemony. For this was the first joining of Immanion’s Tigrons, a joining blessed by the Aghama, sanctioned by the Council of Tribes in order to create a cleansing, a spiritual child from our loins that would eventually shatter the curse of madness sweeping in from the north.
I smile, stretching as the cool breeze plays over my face. I’m still tingling all over from the experience, the scent of lavender still fills my nostrils, and nothing seems real as I am lost again in the thrill of flying unbound on a plane of pure sensation. As free as the gods, infused with raw power as the earth beneath my feet vibrates in homage.
The echo of a rhythmic chanting whispers through in my mind and I open my senses to it subconsciously, only to find I am floating again on nothing, held suspended on pure ambience, searching…searching until I see him, and then with one glimpse I am drunk again on my lover’s beauty. Drawn to the scent of his hair, the warmth of his skin, the taste of his breath. With effort I turn away from the temptation and reach for the warmth beside me, needing the reminder of where I am, and who I am. Oh yes…I think we shocked the Hegemony last night.
Slowly, I wiggle my toes to dissipate the remainder of the images, the action sending a tingle of pleasure up my leg. Too soon I know I will be asked questions, yet at this moment I refuse to lose the feelings of last night completely, choosing instead to listen to my heartbeat. A deep, steady sound, reassuring, reminding me of my humble beginnings, of my struggles and triumphs. Soothing, just like the living warmth pressed against my left side, and I smile.
I reach out and entwine my fingers in the thick, soft hair covering my arm. I know its color well, for it is the color of darkness on a moonless night, its silkiness like the picture of starlight forever captured on a lake’s surface, sensual like its owner; and that knowledge secures me to the present. I feel breathless as I think of him, see him in my mind, admire his perfection, the deadliness of his beauty that is both a blessing and a curse. Yet one I need, just as I covet the perfume of his soul.
I move my fingers, carding them through his abundant hair, absorbing the heat and comfort he offers in slumber. He murmurs something…and it is unintelligible, yet I can imagine the small frown that would now playing upon his brow. Even that seems welcoming, and I dance my fingers down his nape to rub him in gentle reassurance. He stretches then, reminding me of a cat I had once owned so long ago in another place and time. And like that cat, he is so languid, so harmless in appearance, so warm and beautiful, yet underneath the softness is a deadly, dangerous hunter.
I press my fingers more firmly against his nape, sliding them down to feel his pulse. It is full and steady, a sure indication he is awake and basking in the afterglow of sleep. I grin and feel him shift. It is only a minute move, but it kills my smile and I mourn the fact that the fairytale of the night before is about to end – to vanish into nothing. Small sounds start to encroach on my solitude; the breeze that had been caressing is now distracting and I shiver, as the reality of day is only a breath away.
The serene state of understanding and oneness which connected us, is fading, even as I try to hang onto the moment for a little longer. I know it is a lost cause, but still I try, perverse enough to believe I can win against fate. Even now, after all this time I refuse to accept the inevitable. But my battle is lost as I feel him move. He stretches – again so like a cat – and then he moves away and the bubble holding us together shatters completely.
Voices from outside our tent now intrude and I smell the spicy flavors of cooking. The lingering freshness of lavender, which had held me suspended in sleep, evaporates into nothing. The warmth at my side is now a chill, and I let my hand drop to the cushions, feeling abandoned. I lay still; holding on to my last vestiges of peace, keeping my eyes held firmly closed, knowing that in a moment one of the Hegemony would be in our tent demanding my attention. Then things would be back to normal. The tiny tranquil state of togetherness I have found will cease to exist, and that unspoken emotion of need, which tethers me to him, will be shuttered away until next time.
That spark of desire deep in my gut has now turned into a stab of regret, and I almost jump when tentative fingers skim down my chest. They stop over my heart and press down, the touch a burning caress. Warm hair trails over my shoulder and I taste moist breath feathering over my lips. Sweet as fresh cut lavender and I hitch in a breath, marveling at the taste…at the memory and brief remembered images. Then warm lips brush my closed eyelids, lingering on my cheek and I lie frozen, transfixed by this break in routine – by this glimpse of softness in my unpredictable partner. So like my old cat. Maybe I should rename him?
‘I will not forget.’
A whispered sound, a sharing of secrets, a promise and a truth – the words echo in my mind – and I snap my eyes open to capture his gaze, holding him to me for a prolonged instant. I want to say so much, but I cannot, abruptly realizing that words are not needed anymore. He knows…and I feel young, unburdened and alive. So alive and suddenly so powerful again.
Then noise breaks the connection and I watch him turn away, seeing Ashmael and Arahal push into our private chamber. They look tired and less immaculate than normal, and I grin.
‘It is time.’
I don’t need to be told what it was time for, I know. I had dreaded this moment from the time I had first drifted to awareness. It is the moment that I – we – have to leave Calanthe and Pellaz behind and once again became Tigron. Only now I know that we have transcended the boundaries of self and existed like angels, dancing together like innocent children, experiencing unselfish love for a brief moment in time.
For now that is enough.