And The Flowers Bloom Like Madness In The Spring

And The Flowers Bloom Like Madness In The Spring
by Camile Sinenis (Teapot)

Story Notes

Editor\'s PickTitle: And The Flowers Bloom Like Madness In The Spring

Author: Camile_Sinensis (Teapot)

Spoilers: Ghosts

Pairing: Thiede/Velaxis.

Thiede returns from exile and begins the journey home…

Sequel: After the Rains

And The Flowers Bloom Like Madness In The Spring

Seven years is a long time. A lot can happen in seven years. A harling can be conceived and born, and grow up, and become a har. Adulthood can bring new experiences and new perspectives on old certainties. So much can change, and yet so much can remain as it always was.

The sleeping har was alone in the room, but had anyone been there to observe, they would have noticed that he was restless. Although the room was chill, the heavy fur coverlet had been thrown aside, and one arm dangled over the edge of the bed, fingers grazing the bare wooden floor. The first pale streaks of a watery winter morning began illuminating the room, slowly making visible the shadowy objects within. Outside the birds commenced their morning salutations. The har stirred in his sleep again, and moaned slightly

Thiede awoke to a rush of warmth and blinding light, but it was not the dawn which roused him. Instinctively his hand moved down to his groin, fingers curling around his still hard erection, now wet and sticky with the ejaculated essence of his body. He felt the hot wetness spread down between his legs and he gave an involuntary groan. Grasping himself more firmly , he squeezed gently and stroked his thumb a few times down the length. It was almost too sensitive to touch, but his own semen provided comforting lubrication, and it produced a pleasant, if atavistic, sensation which helped ease away the last of the tension from his aching flesh, while simultaneously sending a few last half-hearted reminders of his recent orgasm along his nerves.

As his breathing and heart-beat slowed, and the painful stiffness began to recede, Thiede experience a moment of confusion as he looked across to the other side of the bed for his aruna partner. The he remembered – he was alone.

The dream was still fresh in his memory, though, and replaying it in his head caused his softening ouana lim to stir and move once more, but Thiede resisted the urge to touch himself again. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of his responses, it was just that it had been a long, long time since he had had a wet dream. He was used to being in control of his body, and it felt strange to have it escape from that control under the cloak of his subconscious. But then, a lot of strangeness had transpired lately.

If you had asked him seven years ago what his definition of “strange” was, then heading the list would almost certainly have been the transmutation to another reality and subsequent reincarnation as an inter-dimensional Godhead. Then again, it was something he had always expected.

Thiede smiled wryly to himself and allowed that there was a degree of insanity inherent in that admission. Even given his unusual life. It is one thing, though, to conjure mentally with the theoretical sublimation of the Self, and quite another thing entirely to experience it. To die and be reborn into another realm, where earthly passions and emotions had no meaning. It was peace, of a sort. Something he had always yearned for.

…. be careful what you wish for….

What he hadn’t expected was to come back. That was where the strangeness really started.

It was the child’s fault. Pell’s child. Pell’s and Cal’s child. Pell’s and Cal’s and Rue’s. A strange child, but he had called for help, and there had been no option but to go to him. And now he was a child no more. Thiede himself had been the one to initiate him into adulthood.

Seven years. Darquiel was seven years old. It had been seven years since Thiede had last experienced aruna. He had not missed it. In his Godly dimension it had been irrelevant. It was, however, very relevant indeed in this earth-bound existence. He had been surprised at how intense the experience had been – more so than his memory had prompted him. Yet that in itself was puzzling. Aruna was the most intense experience a har could have. How could he have forgotten that? Perhaps it was different now.

Perhaps something had changed. Perhaps he had changed.

He rose from the bed and shook his head, as if trying to clear his thoughts, causing long tendrils of dark red hair to ripple across the bare skin of his back in a pleasingly tactile way. He stood naked, examining the soiled bedsheets, pursing his lips, as if trying to decided what to do with them. It looked as if a goblet of liquid, iridescent gold had been spilled across the bed. Although it was not aesthetically displeasing, he had the sudden urge to rip the sheets from the bed and wash them. He sighed.

Don’t be ridiculous, he chided himself, There are servants to perform such menial tasks, and they have seen such things countless times. And if they are aware of the fact that Darquiel did not spend the night here, then what of it?

Besides, it had not been Darquiel’s face or Darquiel’s body which had been the cause of the sheets’ disgrace. Darquiel was beautiful, but he was still, for all that, a child.

Seven years. Thiede sighed again. Sometimes he felt his own age weigh heavily upon him. Aruna with the young scion of the Aralisians had been very pleasant indeed, but he was not the cause of these intensely erotic dreams which left him hot and wet with desire, both inside and out. Another har was responsible. Thiede knew he could conjure up that har’s face if he closed his eyes, and his body would respond again, but there was neither the time nor the place to explore this new phenomenon at the moment, because it was another thing which was strange. Another change. It had happened three days ago.

Thiede had always prided himself on his perceptiveness. Perhaps that had been his greatest weakness. Pride. Nevertheless, he enjoyed peering into the lives of his hara and using their hopes and fears and loves and hates to manipulate them. They were all his, after all, to do with as he wished, and he was the arch-manipulator. The thought that he himself might have been manipulated had never entered his head. It was absurd. He was the Aghama, who knows all and sees all.

Three days ago, he had discovered that he didn’t know as much as he thought he did; didn’t see as clearly as he had always assumed he had.

Read the rest of this entry »

Advertisements

Three More Wraeththu Drabbles

Three More Wraeththu Drabbles
by Camile_Sinenis (Teapot)

Story Notes

Title: Three More Wraeththu Drabbles

Author: Camile_Sinenis (Teapot) – teapot@doramail.com

Pairing: Velaxis + others (possibly the merest whiff of UST, if you sniff the air hard enough!)

Three More Wraeththu Drabbles

Promise

“Release Tiahaar Chrysm or I will kill you.”

The man who had his arm around Tiahaar Chrysm’s neck, and the gun thrust into his side, snarled furiously. His face had three days’ growth of beard, and his breath smelled of rotting meat, both of which were offensively obvious to the struggling har.

Yanking Chrysm’s head back painfully, the man focused his blood-shot eyes on Velaxis’ haughty features.

“Is that a threat?” he spat, “…because if it is you …..”

His sentence ended abruptly, and a surprised expression momentarily passed over his features. The surprise was almost certainly due to the fact that a small, ornamental dagger hilt was now protruding from his forehead.

“No,” said Velaxis calmly as the man dropped to the ground, dead “It was not a threat. The word “threat” implies that there is some doubt as to whether the action will be carried out or not”

He took three paces forward and removed the jewelled weapon from between the man’s eyes with a sharp tug, tsk-ing slightly as he fastidiously wiped away the the blood from the blade and the filigreed gemstones before secreting it away again in whatever hidden pocket it had come from.

“Oh, and could someone see to Tiahaar Chrysm – he seems to have fainted…”

***************************************************************

Whore

Caeru lay on his bed, his soft white skin flushed with hint of dewy pink. Sometimes he hated his body, and the demands it made on him. And for some reason it was always worst at the same time of the month – the full moon. He knew the Hegemony laughed amongst themselves about it. “… on heat again…” – he had heard the barely-concealed whispers behind his back. Pell, of course, would not satisfy his consort’s needs, so to compound his humiliation the Hegemony had sent a professional to do the job.

“Oh come, Rue, don’t sulk!. Most hara would be delighted with this arrangement. As you know, I am very experienced and – even if I say so myself – talented in this particular field.”

Caeru threw a pillow angrily at the tall har. “Shut up! I am the effing Tigrina, and you are nothing but a… a… whore!”

Velaxis smiled indulgently. “Indeed,” he purred, running his fingers provocatively through the impressive lengths of his hair. “… and I work for the Hegemony, so we know what that makes them, don’t we?”

Caeru lay still for a minute as he thought about that. Slowly a small smile worked its way across his lips, and he started to giggle. Then Velaxis’ endless hair was trailing across his body and Velaxis’ lips were pressing down on his own and Velaxis’ hot, scented breath was filling his mouth, and he wasn’t giggling any more.

Afterwards, Velaxis brushed away a damp strand of hair from Rue’s neck. “My dear,” he cooed encouragingly “I would have done that for nothing!”

Caeru took it as the compliment it was intended to be.

************************************************************

Slut

“Rue, you are such a slut!” Velaxis exclaimed.

The Tigrina had been recounting his exploits of the previous evening, involving three political delegates from Maudrah, an old friend from Ferelithia and a surprising quantity of whipped cream.

“What’s a slut?” Darquiel enquired, puzzled. Velaxis rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. Young people today – their education was sorely lacking!

“It is a pejorative term for a female who indulges in frequent sexual activity, or who makes her enjoyment of it widely known.”

“It was a human thing”, he added, seeing Darquiel’s blank expression.

“That’s just weird!” Darquiel shook his head and wrinkled his nose

Velaxis sighed again. “Indeed it is. Humans had a whole plethora of taboos and regulations when it came to sex, and an astonishingly wide vocabulary to describe those who transgressed the permitted norms. For example, I am a whore, which describes my professional capacity of providing educational and recreational aruna to those who require it. My employers, the Hegemony, are pimps”

“Calanthe,” – he indicated the august presence of the Tigron, currently draped over an armchair still nursing a slight hangover from the previous evening – ” is a queer, indicating that in his human days he preferred sexual activity with other males rather than females”

“I prefer poof,” muttered Cal “… so much classier”

“Whatever.” Velaxis sniffed. “So many to choose from. They were an inventive lot, humans. No wonder they became extinct, though – they spent all their time inventing random rules about who could do what with whom, and when, and how much.” He paused for a moment. “Of course, you had to be careful. Especially if you happened to be a member of…ahem.. a longer-lived species. Take your eye of the ball for a couple of generations and you suddenly discover that your Upstanding Member of Society has suddenly become a Pervert of the First Order” He shuddered slightly, and there was a moment’s silence.

“What about Pell?” asked Darquiel

“Pell?” Velaxis looked over at the other Tigron, whose sulky expression indicated his disapproval of the whole tenor of this conversation.

Velaxis sidled over to him, silent and graceful as a cat. If anything, Pell’s expression became even more sour. Velaxis smiled his tight little smile.

“Pell is a…. prick-teaser” he smirked

“What???” Pell exploded

“Well! Thirty years, and not so much as a sniff”

Pellaz looked as if he’d just stepped in something very unpleasant. He didn’t know what was worse – The thought of being… sniffed…. by Velaxis, or the thought of Velaxis thinking about…. His scowl deepened even further and he had the sudden urge to have a long, hot shower. He got up and walked out without a further word, hearing Velaxis’ mocking commentary trail after him

“…. and yet again our union remains unconsummated. Ah Pell, you are such a tease!”

“Now,” continued Velaxis turning to Cal “… tell us about your time in Piristil…

The End 

Newer entries »