Terzian’s Dilemma

Challenge Submission - January 2009Terzian’s Dilemma
by Persephone

Characters: Cal, Terzian, Pellaz & Cobweb

Beta: Thevina/Thrihyrne Any remaining mistakes are mine.

Rating: NC17

Spoilers: The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit

Synopsis: Cal presents Terzian with a challenging situation in the fateful night they spend together at Forever.

Disclaimer: All the characters, their world and all things Wraeththu belong to Storm Constantine, to whom I am very grateful.

Terzian’s Dilemma

It was an awkward, tension filled dinner at Forever, the four of us at the table playing our roles. Cobweb poked at his food, shooting daggers at me with his eyes, Pellaz tried to eat as quickly as possible, and Terzian made small talk about his military endeavors and how many horses had recently foaled, pretending everything was fine. I seemed to be the only one having a good time. Why did I enjoy seeing these hara squirm? One of them I was very fond of, one I fantasized about rooning and the other, we all seemed to know, was having intense arunic thoughts about me. It may or may not have been obvious that I returned those feelings, albeit with a certain degree of trepidation attached. Terzian, trying to dissipate some of the stress, addressed a question to me.

“Have you been to the stables yet, Cal?”

“No,” I answered smiling. “I don’t do much riding in the winter. I prefer to engage in indoor exercise.” I winked at him.

Terzian cleared his throat, Cobweb slashed at his meat with his knife screeching it across his plate, which made everyone jump. Pell seemed to be wishing he was invisible.

“Maybe I should check out the horses,” I remarked. “An invigorating winter ride after this lovely meal might do me some good. You like to ride, Cobweb. Care to join me?”

He stared at me, swallowed and said calmly, “I’d rather be tied to a tree and gutted.”

“Well,” I said good-naturedly. “Maybe some other time then.”

Two house hara came in and refilled the wine glasses, leaving very hurriedly. The taut atmosphere must have been palpable, even to them. After we’d finished and they were clearing up, Cobweb swept haughtily from the room, Pell close on his heels. It only took a terse look and the speaking of his name from Terzian to send Pell quickly out of the room. It seemed they couldn’t get away fast enough. Cobweb, I assumed would head to his rooms to sulk in private and possibly busy himself with plans for my demise, while Pellaz would make himself as scarce as possible. That left Terzian and me alone at the table.

“Well! Another delicious and congenial dinner at Forever, eh Terzian?”

He didn’t look amused. He lit two cigarettes and passed one to me. I didn’t care for the way he made the decision for me. I would have preferred him to ask if I cared for a smoke. A small thing, but it made me want to say, “No thanks, I don’t care for one.” But I was tired of playing games, so I took it.

“Why do you want to antagonize Cobweb?” Terzian asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe because I want to see how far I can go. Maybe just because it’s fun. I like lively exchanges at dinner, don’t you?”

Terzian took a deep drag on his cigarette and sighed.

“I wouldn’t push him too far.”

I laughed.

Changing the subject, I asked, “What shall we do tonight? Chess? A good book? Or maybe torrid aruna in your room. What’ll it be?”

I could tell he didn’t appreciate my attitude, but he gave me a bit of a smirk and replied, “What do you think?”

“Probably the aruna.”

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The Hat

Challenge Submission - January 2009The Hat
by Eldraug

Story Notes

Title:  The Hat

Author:  Eldraug

Pairing:  Cobweb/Terzian

Rating:  Soft R

Summary:   Terzian thinks about an evening of changes at home with Cobweb.

Disclaimer:  All characters and settings are the property of Storm Constantine.  I make no money from this work of short fiction

Author note:  I like to think that at one time Cobweb and Terzian were happy together.  This fic is set in that time.

The Hat

Terzian smiled as he pulled his dress uniform hat from the top shelf of his closet.  He loved the feeling of the smooth black leather, the way it shone in the light.  He buffed the silver studs with his sleeve before holding it back to critique his work.  Nodding to himself, he carried it carefully into the bedroom he shared with his chesnari.  Cobweb lay in their huge bed, curled up in the middle hugging a pillow.  Terzian stopped by the bed and smiled down at the fragile creature lost in sleep.  Leaning over, he placed a gentle kiss on Cobweb’s forehead then softly padded over to his chesnari’s dressing table.  Placing the hat carefully right in the center of it, he smiled to himself and left the room.

It was rare that Terzian was ever soume, being such an ouana personality and all, but there were times that he wanted to be taken care of, be controlled, be loved.  Sometimes being soume felt good, even for a Varrish warrior like himself.   He would never let any of the others know what he did and he would never be soume for anyone but Cobweb and even then it was only every now and then, but . . . Gods, when he wanted it, it felt so good.

As he settled in at the barracks in town for a day of paperwork, his mind drifted to what would happen that evening.   Webby would find his hat and know what it meant.  It was a little thing they had worked out when they were newlybonded.  He loved the way Webby looked in his hat – his soft, gentle chesnari with his dress uniform hat perched atop his head.  Webby’s whole demeanor changed when the hat was on his head – gone was the soft, whispery Cobweb and in his place was a dominant, strong har no one but Terzian ever saw.

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After the Storm, Restless Fire

Editor's PickAfter the Storm, Restless Fire
By Thevina

Story Notes

Title: After the Storm, Restless Fire
Pairings: Ithiel/Cobweb, Ithiel/Terzian
Rating: Adult
Genre: PWP, with some character exploration
Word count: 4,979

Summary: Ithiel is rather an enigmatic har in Bewitchments; one of the things obvious about him is his loyalty both to Terzian and Cobweb, though doubtless they manifested themselves differently. This is a mostly PWP exploring Ithiel’s relationship with the two adult monarchs of Forever in the immediate aftermath of Cal and Pel’s departure. I made grateful reference to an image in Elfscribe’s marvelous story, Playing With Matches, by her use of a tattoo on Terzian–though I put mine in front!

After the Storm, Restless Fire

Restless, sullen grey clouds were dragged along by the breeze as Ithiel jogged along his path on Forever’s borders. The leaden skies mirrored his spirit, troubled at Terzian’s refusal to leave his rooms since the Uigenna-devil and his lap-pup’s departure. That was why he was out running; as har, he didn’t ever get truly out of shape, but the steady beat of his feet on the ground and faint burning in his lungs gave him the focus to organize the tumultuous barrage of emotions wreaking havoc with his usual demeanor. It was as though the very house had become utterly still, holding its breath until its Master re-emerged from his rooms. Of course Ithiel had noted Cal’s lazy beauty, but the icy loathing that he felt for the Uigenna-turned-Sarock-turned-Tempter-Incarnate froze any actual attraction to him. Terzian, Ithiel’s commandant and oldest friend, had succumbed. Utterly.

Ithiel continued his swift pace, slowing here and there to avoid undergrowth creeping across the woodland trail. As he ran, he began a list of pros and cons to entering Terzian’s rooms unannounced— not that that was really possible, unless he climbed the outside of the house and entered by stealth, which was out of the question. He was second in command of the Varrish army under the Autarch; he wasn’t a house-hara trying to sneak into their leader’s bedchamber. He’d not witnessed that much of Terzian’s behavior around Calanthe, but what he had seen had worried and sickened him. He and Terzian went back further than nearly anyhar else he knew, incepted days apart, and having suffered the same abuses as human youths in the months prior to becoming Wraeththu.

Ithiel blinked and wiped at his eyes as he jogged. “Rain,” he panted in frustration. The stables weren’t too far down the path, only a quarter mile or so. He decided to sprint, relishing the physical sensation of challenge in his muscles. With each satisfying pound against the earth, he imagined he was smashing Cal’s face with the bottom of his boot.

Breathing heavily, Ithiel availed himself of some fresh water that he knew the stable-hara kept. It wasn’t storming, but a steady rain fell. The clouds seemed to have decided that their burden was too much and they poured it generously to the earth. Ithiel was too agitated to return to his small home, though his sweaty hair was matted to his head and he was in sore need of a bath. As another welcome diversion, he decided to brush down his horse, knowing that she would enjoy the attentions. After that he would go home, get cleaned up and have a meal, and then decide whether or not to keep a third night’s vigil outside of Terzian’s doors— or kick them in.

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Playing with Matches

Thevina Editor's Pick

Editor's Pick

Playing with Matches
by Elfscribe

Story Notes

By elfscribe,  elfscribe5@yahoo.com

Characters: Calanthe, Terzian, Pellaz, Cobweb, Swift, Ithiel, OC
Rating: Adult

Beta: Thevina
Spoiler: Enchantments

Disclaimer: Storm Constantine owns all to do with the Wraeththu universe. I am borrowing her characters for my own nefarious purposes.

Summary: What exactly happened during those hours when Terzian seduced Cal “with the fire power of a volcano?”

Author’s note: A few lines of dialogue have been taken from The Enchantments of Flesh and Spirit.  They are indicated with italics.

Playing with Matches

Terzian was drunk.  That, right there, was cause for alarm. The first crack I’d seen in the cool, controlled exterior. He paused at the door. “Cal, I have to speak to you,” he’d said ominously, then walked into the room, his leather garments creaking softly as he moved, the sound vaguely menacing.  He dropped into a chair at the table where we were finishing dinner.  “Pellaz!” he growled with a dismissive jerk of his chin.

Pellaz, sweet, innocent Pell with the face of an angel, took the hint.  Got up from his chair, excused himself, and left.  Left me to my devils.  Oh Pell, why? I’m not strong, you know that.  I’m a tramp, a cat in heat.  And Terzian is stretching his claws.

I smiled at him – a lazy Cal smile, like a laser beam of charm. Well do I know it.  “What do you want, Terzian?”

His eyes: hungry, shadowed, direct. “You know what I want.”

Well, so much for a long, slow seduction.  But we’d already been at it for weeks.  He wasn’t one to play coy and I must have been making him crazymad.  Oh Pell didn’t see it.  But I did. An arched eyebrow. A hand: clenched, unclenched.  A twitch in the jaw.  The very air between us thrumming with aruna magic.  Beckoning. And I must admit, I played him.  Batted him about in the sunshine like a ball of twine. Slanted glances, a flip of tawny hair, the insouciant remark. There is only so long you can do that with one such as him before the explosion comes.  Bad Cal.  Playing with matches.

During this dance, I was aware of his consort Cobweb in the background. I could feel him, hissing quietly, mouth open. Green as a viper.  It adds to my sin that I didn’t care. For right now there was only Terzian: a powerful, dominant presence: pulled taut like a longbow, growling, needy. Power such as his draws me. It always has.  Fills me with a desire to bite and claw, a need to surrender. My blood itched with challenge.  I was Uigenna to his Varr.  Showdown.

“What do I get out of it?”  I asked, examining my nails, noting the nicks in the black nail polish.  I’m such an imposter.

“What do you get out it,” Terzian repeated thoughtfully as if assessing a trade.  He picked up a spoon, tapped the bowl against his lips.  “It would seem lodging, food, security, would already be payment enough.”

“I was under the impression that you extended your hospitality to Pell and me in gratitude for rescuing your consort. You never said there was a price for it.”

“There wasn’t,” Terzian said abruptly.  He got up from the table and walked about the dining room, picking up objects and setting them down again.  Finally, he turned to look at me. “I would hope you would get pleasure out of it.” Read the rest of this entry »

Fairy Tale

Fairy Tale
By Lusa

Story Notes

Author’s Email: rhapsodyingreen@cox.net
Web page: http://www.geocities.com/lusa_thul/ecrirehome.html

Pairings: Aleeme/Azriel
Rating: R
Summary: Aleeme reflects during his imprisonment.
Spoilers: For pretty much all of Shades.
Disclaimer: Storm Constantine was brilliant and thought of all this, not me, tragically.

Fairy Tale

My hostling told me a human story once, about a princess trapped in a tower. She waited alone, empty and tragic until a prince arrived to save her. They fell in love and the entire world, from that moment on, was perfect. It’s all backwards and wrong for me. I fell in love, I felt that way, and I actually understood and believed all those silly fairytales. But then it went wrong, somehow, for reasons I still don’t really understand. I don’t want to, anymore, because I’m scared to learn just what they might be. Now it’s me locked away in a tower, not some distant character. Now I’m the one who suffers.

Can I describe this pain? Words don’t really exist for it, because what my life has become is something too terrible for them. Even ‘pelki’ falls short. That first time Ponclast touched me I thought I could fight it. That I could be stronger than this. All I would have to do was think of Azriel and he could not hurt me.

I still love him, but I can no longer even remember his face.

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