You Don’t Get Something For Nothing

May 3, 2008 at 8:27 pm (Az, Bewitchments, Enchantments, Gelaming, Immanion, Pell, Rue, Short, Vaysh)

You Don’t Get Something For Nothing
by Az

Story Notes

Author email: Email; az.ombie(at)gmail.com

Website: http://www.forgottenjuliet.net

Disclaimer; all these characters belong to Storm Constantine. This is solely a fragment of my twisted mind, all in the name of fun. No copyright infringement intended.

Summary: Rue feels his defences are crumbling, all because of one har, who manages to crawl behind the facade of the Tigrina.

Warnings; language.

Spoilers; book 1 & 2.

Pairing; Vaysh/Caeru

Editor’s Note:

This story was originally posted to the “Pinkboard” works-in-progress in Mar. 2006. These were the only chapter posted but I thought it was worth rescuing and posting here. If you’re the author and have the rest of this, or other stories, do get in touch with me!

You Don’t Get Something For Nothing

Refuse to surrender,
Strung out until ripped apart,
Who dares, who dares to condemn
All for nothing

This window, this view, I thought it grand upon my arrival, yet now it makes me feel as a prisoner, tied with silk behind golden bars, as a songbird who is refused its voice. I remember how I was thrilled seeing this large city under my feet, I felt as a god. That was then, this is now. I no longer feel divine, I feel trapped. It would be the understatement of the millennia to say that Pellaz was thrilled to see me, never have I seen anybody radiate that much surprise, discomfort and rage mingled in one. I should have been an idiot had I not understood what was beneath his civil words. I still remember the humiliation standing there with Wolf, who had a death grip on my clammy hand. Listening to the har I had once shared such intimacy with that we had had the power to create new life, all the arguments I had rehearsed over and over again on our journey here, died on my lips. Clearly he did not think that he had done wrong leaving me behind to birth and care for our pearl. But I had overstepped my boundaries when I had come to Immanion to seek him out. No matter how many times I tried to explain to him that I had done this for Wolf, nor for me, and if he wanted me to, I should leave right this instant. That was not completely the truth, I would never be able to leave Wolf behind, leaving him in this place, this haunted wretched palace. Thiede persuaded me to stay, promising that I would have a secure home for my harling, and that Pellaz surely would come around.

Chapter 1: Of loneliness and broken dreams

Caeru sighed as he took off the pearl necklace and tossed it on the stone floor. Standing up, he gracefully stepped over the treacherous pieces of the jewellery on the floor. “Cheap crap,” he muttered under his breath. Slumping down on a large mount of fluffy pillows he sighed, “The poor, poor Tigrina, stuck in his golden prison of lies and contempt.” Melodramatically he raised a hand to his forehead, and sighed even deeper, to then giggle at himself. If he had known what he would have gotten into back then, he would never have come, given he had all that he wanted, everything his heart desired. Almost everything.

Leaning out of the window his vision blurred as he looked down, how easy it would be to just slip and fall. Rue smiled bitterly and turned his gaze to the east wing of the palace, he could not even see his Tigron’s chambers from here, and Pellaz had on more than one occasion made him aware that it was not far enough; he would prefer to be farther away, but the palace would not allow it, its walls did not stretch that far. Every time he heard those words it felt like a slap, but after years of this treatment he had gotten used to it. He pulled himself inside the room again, how he had wept bitter tears at night, by himself, but at day he would always be designated to his fate. He was the Tigrina; no one on this god-forsaken planet could take that away from him. And he would live his role, do what was expected of him. He had brought this upon himself, and to complain would be a little too self indulgent, even for Caeru.

A knock on the door shook the Tigrina from his musings. “Enter,” he called as he stifled a yawn. He was tired and had not slept well that night, plagued by nightmares, as always. And no one to soothe him when he woke soaked in sweat. Hearing soft footsteps across the stone floor, he turned with a smile until he saw it was but a messenger, and his smile faded.

“The Tigron wishes to inform that he shall dine alone tonight,” the messenger said, looking skittish and absolutely uncomfortable.

“I see,” Rue said, “dining alone you say?”

“Yes” the messenger said, looking from Caeru to the space between his feet, studying the cracks in the tiles.

“Does he really find me that naive?” Rue hissed, but when the other har still did not move or answer he just sighed deeply and said with a voice that dripped with venom, “Fine! Tell the Tigron that I made other arrangements.” The messenger didn’t look up, afraid the Tigrina would throw one of his notorious fits; he just nodded and hurried out.

“Bastard,” Rue sneered to himself, alone indeed! The Tigrina felt tears welling up in his eyes, not because he was sad, but angry and hurt. Why had Thiede sweet-talked him into this? This humiliation, every day. Every single day he would be dismissed, pushed aside and ignored. Years ago he would have give anything for Pellaz to believe his words, but now it just didn’t seem to matter anymore. He had stopped praying for understanding and redemption; he knew it would never come. He might have power, he might be the Tigrina, but he was not Cal. He hated this har with a vengeance, never having met this mythical creature, which Rue was not even sure existed anywhere else than in Pellaz’ mind. And still it never stopped haunting him; how could he best something he couldn’t touch? No, Pellaz and his marriage was made of blood and loathing.

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Hara Malevery

May 3, 2008 at 8:08 pm (Aruna, Gilda Mock, Major OC, Pearlbirth, Short)

Hara Malevery
by Gilda Mock

Story Notes

This is my first piece of Wraeththu fanfiction, the first part in a planned novel. I hope those who read enjoy it, and I also hope you’ll share your thoughts and suggestions.

Editor’s Note:

This story was originally posted to the “Pinkboard” works-in-progress in Feb. 2006. This was the only chapter posted but I thought it was worth rescuing and posting here.

Hara Malevery

The dehar reached out to him with his hand. In his hand was a scroll of yellow vellum, tied with red ribbons. His feet stood on air. Rushing, ripping, whistling air as cold as the beginning of the earth. The breath at the top of the world. The dehara’s smile was serene as the sun’s and more warm. His voice laughed like a thousand streams as he beckoned; the wind buffeted his hair back and forth like a writhing mass of golden-scaled snakes. The har, his tremelous feet perching atop the pinnacle of the tallest rock he’d ever seen, smelled the sickly salty smell of the sea wafting up from the base, too far away for him to see. The dehara before him was silent, but his eyes spilled words like water. Esoteric messages and furtive whispers whipped around the planes of his body like something he could reach out and grab.

“I can’t.” The har screamed. “I can’t, I’ll fall!”

The dehara’s smile opened to the gleam of pearly teeth. He cocked his head and pressed the scroll towards him.

Rock sanded away under the har’s toehold. Panic scrabbled in his heart.

“I’ll fall!”

The dehara spoke: “Sometimes you must fall.”

The har whimpered deep in his throat and tightened the thin sheet to his body. Tears stung his eyes and made him blind. Panic closed a choking fist over him and he fell to his knees, scraped them to the bone.

“If I take it from you…” He blubbered, “If I take it, will you keep me from falling?”

The dehara’s eyes melted from dark to light, then back, like watching the scales of a brilliant fish from above the water.

“Sometimes you must fall. When you land you will be a god.”

The har, heart hammering, swayed to a stand. He could feel the electric rush of blood through every vein in his body. His pulse throbbed in his ankles and wrists like stars. His feet were bloody. He dropped the sheet. It flapped once with a great boom like a dragon’s wing and disappeared in a shooting wind. The har was naked, and reaching. The dehara had a divinely victorious expression on his face. His eyes were closed, brown eyelashes casting dripping shadows; his eyebrows swept back like sparrow wings. The ribbons on the scroll made a tiny, silky, gasp; slipped out of their knot and flew away. The parchment fell towards the har in a cream-yellow trail. The polished wooden handle bumped his hand. He gripped it with clammy fingers. The dehar let go of the other end. The har felt his stomach flutter to his throat. His toes left the rock and he leapt into the sky. Banshees of air screamed past him. Icy fingers reached to touch him as he passed by. He heard birds. He glimped the dehar above him, a steadfast beacon of energy, burning like a phoenix. Somehow he knew he was laughing, joyfully.

The har smelled frying meat and eggs.

He broke away from sleep like a nearly-drowned from water.

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Sweet Desperation

May 3, 2008 at 4:34 pm (Aruna, Bewitchments, Cal, Em, Enchantments, Fulfilments, Gelaming, Immanion, Pell, Short, Wraiths)

Sweet Desperation
by Em

Story Notes
Pairing: Cal / Pellaz

Summary: The Tigron craves the one har he cannot have.

Spoilers Anything up to Wraiths

Rating: NC17

Disclaimer: Characters and the world they inhabit belong to Storm Constantine.

Sweet Desperation

The Tigron of Immanion had at his disposal anything a har could possibly ask for. He was surrounded by luxury and comfort and no request was too much to ask. Pellaz har Aralis was never short of company – should he desire it a banquet could be called at a few hours notice and one of the many function rooms of Phaonica would be filled with hara to socalise with. Or, should he prefer, he had many close friends to spend intimate time with. He could travel halfway across the world in mere minutes with the help of his sedu if he missed hara in Megalithica and the apartment next door housed his closest confidant in Immanion, Vaysh – who would put down whatever he was doing at Pellaz’s request.

Despite all this, Pellaz was not satisfied. He was not an overly demanding har. Aristocratic, yes – but Pellaz did not exploit his position. It was unfortunate perhaps that the one thing he desired most in the world was the one thing that even the Tigron could not have. The one thing the Tigron was specifically not allowed to have.

Calanthe.

Though Cal was never far from Pellaz’s thoughts, there were nights like tonight when the Tigron’s memories made things almost unbearable. When he could almost swear Cal was in the room with him, so strong was his presence. He haunted Pellaz like an unrelenting ghost and lingered like a cherished memory.

Many years ago the Hienama Orien had warned Pellaz to hide his tears from others and Pell had heeded that lesson well. He told nohar, not even Vaysh or Seel, how deep his grief ran. He buried it deep inside and locked it away in his heart, focusing his attention on the here and now so he would not be swamped by his past. Nohar knew of how Calanthe constantly flittered through Pellaz’s dreams or how difficult it was to get up on the mornings that waking up alone filled Pellaz with deep pain. Nohar knew that on the nights that Pellaz’s shunned company and went to his apartments alone it was because he could not stand to look at the face of anyhar who was not Cal.

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Salt and Sweet and Spice

May 3, 2008 at 11:27 am (Aruna, Bewitchments, Enchantments, Flame Warrior, Fulfilments, Gimrah, Inception, Kamagrian, Major OC, Opalexian, Roselane, Shilalama, Tel-an-Kaa)

Editor\'s PickSalt and Sweet and Spice
by Flame Warrior

Story Notes

Originally posted to Raythoo LJ group, Jan. 2005.

This just finished – it was supposed to be a fictionalised magical journal based on my experiences with Kamagrian magic, but it went off on its own merry way…

Constructive criticism gratefully received, as well as gut reactions.

Salt and Sweet and Spice

I am Yaleena Gimrahn, a parage of the Kamagrian, but I began life as a human female.

When I was twelve years old, my mother died. My brother had given her a difficult labour; her womb ripped and not even Wraeththu magic could heal the wound or staunch the flow of blood. We were taken in by the nearest estemble, looked after well enough, but I knew from the moment my mother breathed her last that there was nothing for me in Gimrah. As soon as I was able, I joined a team of traders and travelled all over Jaddayoth, wherever hara who travelled with humans were welcome, selling horses, buying food, spices, wool, whatever Gimrah needed.

The year of my twenty-second birthday, we arrived here, in Shilalama, with its honey-coloured stone, its peaceful life. At the time, I did not know what made me stay, only that I was grateful for the rest. Now, I know it was the call of Tel-an-Kaa, of Opalexian; of Kamagrian. Tel-an-Kaa told me I must have the touch of Lilith on my soul to have heard that call, even in the most dim and unconscious way, while still human.

I write this here to remind myself: how I came here, that I did have a life before. It is important to remember, and easy to forget. And very tempting. But I did not stay here to forget, I stayed here to know.

I asked to study before my inception, and Tel-an-Kaa approved. “To know what you want, you must first know yourself. If inception succeeds, Yaleena, there is no turning back.” I think she meant it as a warning of sorts, but it made my spine tingle with excitement. My heart leapt with hope. No turning back.

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