Break Open the Massive Dark

Editor's PickBreak Open the Massive Dark
by Thevina

Story Notes

Author email: thevina33@gmail.com

Spoilers: Shades of Time and Memory

Canon Characters: Aleeme, Azriel, Cobweb, Moon, Vaysh, Cal (all others original characters)

Summary:

Now language escape, fugitive of forgiveness
Leaving as trace only circles of rust
– “Drought,” Vienna Teng

There are many casualties in the second assault on Ponclast that happens in The Shades of Time and Memory. This is a possible telling of Aleeme and Azriel’s story after their liberation from Fulminir.

Author’s Notes: Firstly, my huge thanks to my two betas, Elfscribe and Wendy. You have both helped tremendously in making this story as polished as it is— and thanks for pushing me to write Cal! Hopefully there aren’t any mistakes, but if any remain, they’re mine. My gratitude also to Persephone for being an advance reader and for sharing your enthusiasm and thoughts. One of my original characters makes reference to a Chickasaw legend; I found the story here initially.

Break Open the Massive Dark

Drifting into wakefulness felt like slowly rising to the surface from the bottom of a lake. Aleeme suddenly thrashed around, terrified that there was ice above him; he was trapped, he couldn’t breathe— he would drown if he opened his mouth to take a breath and his limbs were so heavy. He began to sink again, letting out a strangled cry despite the panic of expecting a rush of icy water to fill his lungs. He pulled in a deep breath of air, hearing an awful rattling sound that, with a shock, he realized was his own hoarse throat. There was a sound of canvas flapping, somehar muttering under his breath, approaching Aleeme at speed while with agonizing effort he forced his eyes open. He couldn’t even speak, he just gaped, fish-like, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to figure out where the hell he was, why he was lying down, the source of the glowing soft light. Something horrific had happened; it lurked patiently in Aleeme’s mind, off to the side like something glimpsed in his peripheral vision, uncertain and shadowy. Whatever it was, it was really, really bad.

“Aleeme. Please look at me.”

The har’s voice was steady, but Aleeme could hear the worry in his tone, betraying his calm demeanor. With tremendous will, Aleeme turned his head to gaze heavy-lidded at the har standing at his bedside, clad in healer’s robes. He had porcelain skin and cat-like eyes that slanted slightly upward. He seemed to be struggling with emotions that he managed to keep in check, reaching down to brush some of Aleeme’s hair that had instinctively waved feebly toward him.

“Please don’t try to sit up or move around,” the healer said kindly. “You’ve done very well, but you’ll still be with us for quite some time. You’re safe now.” He held his hands suspended above Aleeme’s body, walking slowly around him, his lips moving silently.

Aleeme felt a soothing warmth in his torso when the healer passed over that area, but the sensation stopped as the har traversed above his pelvis, down his legs and up again. Not until he was above his stomach did Aleeme sense the heat and strange feeling that his blood was singing, responding to whatever energies the healer was channeling toward him. He tried to move his legs, managing only to wriggle his toes a little bit and feel a terrible ache in his inner thighs.

“What happened?” he asked the healer who had pulled up a chair and slipped his hands under the warm blankets to knead at his thigh.

The touch was professional, not at all erotic, but just as the exotic har opened his mouth to reply, Aleeme was assaulted by a memory of somehar else’s fingers gripping his shoulders in a bruising hold, a battering ram of an ouana-lim slamming into him over and over as he screamed and tried to escape, only to be hit in the jaw by a hideous-looking creature—

“NO!” he shouted, shaking with the abject terror, powerless to escape as his innermost chamber was wrenched open. “YOU FUCKING BASTARD!”

Aleeme swung with his fists, screaming and screaming, trying to kick, snapping with his teeth when he felt warm hands trying to pin him down.

“AZRIEL!” he sobbed, struggling against his would-be captors like a wild thing. There was a stinging in his left thigh and an icy sensation; hara with expressions of anxiety and concern came into his line of vision as he pulled against restraints they’d managed to attach to his wrists.

“Azriel!” he choked out of a raw throat, resisting the soothing waves of energy that radiated toward him. It was a trick— Ponclast had moved him, was going to do unspeakable things to him; Aleeme was too weak to fight it. He cried, the bitter, angry tears burning his eyes as he thought about another harling starting life in him, another harling created in hate.

“Just kill me!” Aleeme raged, though his mind was getting fuzzy. “I’ll die before this harling is born!” he yelled, gasping for breath. He began to feel as though his body had been filled with heavy cotton, becoming still even as he continued to struggle against whatever drug had been injected in him.

“Aleeme, you’re safe,” a voice said to his right; he sounded like he was trying to convince himself of that. “You’re with the best healers there are. Please believe me.”

Aleeme tried to spit at him, but his body no longer wanted to cooperate and instead he succeeded only in flinging spittle on his pillow. “You’re with him,” he moaned. “It’s a trick. Azriel…” The word tasted like blood. He wheezed pitifully, clawing at consciousness, desperate to stay awake. “Ulau…”

The world went black.

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Northern Lights

Northern Lights
by Morgana

Story Notes

Author’s Email: morganalebeau@yahoo.com

Web page: http://www.paranoid.nl/avalon

Pairings: Pellaz/Cal/Caeru and Rune/Galdra

Rating: NC-17

Summary: After receiving a head injury, Pellaz’ younger self takes over for a while.

Disclaimer: Not mine. No copyright infringement is intended. All characters belong to Storm Constantine.

Warning: AU of course.

Spoiler warning: Set after book 6.

Beta read by Patricia and DA, thanks sweeties!

All remaining mistakes are mine.

Northern Lights

Prequel

Pellaz-har-Aralis, Tigron of Immanion, was curled around his consort’s body and soothed Caeru who had suffered from a nightmare only a few minutes ago. Although Diablo’s attack had happened some time ago, Pellaz still felt like he had to fight for Caeru to stay with them. Holding Caeru’s hand in his, he rubbed the knuckles with his thumb.

“Pellaz, don’t do this to yourself. The attack wasn’t your fault.” Cal stroked Pellaz’ hair and tried to comfort his chesnari. “There were forces greater than ours at work at the time, you know that.”

Cal… What would he do without sweet, understanding Cal, who had become his chesnari in every sense of the word, thanks to the purification rituals and Thiede’s training the blond har had gone through? Pellaz shook his head. “No, Cal, I am responsible for this mess,” he whispered saddened and in a guilty voice. “None of this would have happened if I hadn’t coerced the two of you into creating that pearl.” Pellaz rested his weary head on Caeru’s shoulder. Feeling safe with Caeru and Cal, he voiced his unsettling thoughts aloud. “Cal, I made one mistake after another.” His latest mistake had been losing control and allowing Galdra to make him with pearl. “Why did Thiede pick me to be Tigron? I am a failure. I can’t even keep my consort safe – or you, Cal.”

Cal petted Pellaz’ hair, but the touch offered Pellaz no comfort. He felt like he had put both of them, Caeru and Cal, through too much pain. “I am the wrong har for the job, Cal. I wish Thiede had never found me – had never made me Tigron. Then you wouldn’t have gone insane, Caeru wouldn’t lie here more dead than alive and I wouldn’t be with pearl.”

Cal, lacking the right words to comfort Pellaz, remained silent. Pellaz’ outburst had taken him by surprise. Normally the dark-haired har oozed self-confidence.

Pellaz rubbed Caeru’s fingers and turned his head so he could study Cal’s face. “I wronged the two of you. I wronged so many hara – including Galdra.” Tears, which he had forced down most of his life, spilled from his eyes and flowed down his cheeks to drip onto Caeru’s chest.

Cal moved closer and enveloped both of them in an embrace. “Hush now. There is no need to doubt yourself, Pell.”

But Pellaz didn’t listen. He was lost in self-reproach and self-hatred. “I should…never have…been made…har…let alone…Tigron,” he whispered, as he slowly succumbed to fatigue. His eyes closed, his body relaxed, and he drifted off into sleep.

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