Lyer & Aluraios | History Lesson
"Faras li toric deror del asrak, when the morning enters the rose."
Aluraios's lips curved into a soft smile, his face relaxed as Lyer's voice trailed off into silence. He shifted slightly, causing the wine coloured robe that spilled around him onto the couch to slip further off the bare chest his head rested on.
It wasn't often his centuries old lover shared any of his writings, dismissing them as ramblings and rough drafts that needed polishing before they were ready to be heard by anyone higher in the food chain than rats. Considering the irritating rodents were one of his staple food sources, that wasn't very high. Personally he disagreed, finding the lilting languages of old lands cast a spell that was undiminished by the murmured translation.
He felt fingers begin to weave among his hair, lifting and tangling the stands, and recognised the familiar insecurity that always followed one of Lyer's recitations. He lifted his hand languidly to interlock his own slender fingers with the nervous vampire's.
"Thank you." The words were barely a sigh, but he knew his partner's hearing was extremely sensitive, and felt the grip tighten in reply. "As beautiful as ever, solar."
"Not as beautiful as you."
Aluraios ducked his head, the smile growing self consious as he turned his cheek to nestle on the pale skin. "Alright, not as beautiful as me, but damn close," he grinned, "When did you write it? From the language I'd guess before the Separation..."
"Arrogant." Lyer laughed softly, leaning down to rub his nose in the silver mane.
"I know I am. So, when?"
"About eighty years before it." He replied, the voice fading distantly, loosening his hold on Aluraios, to slip his arms across the fireborn's chest posessively, memories stirring up in a unstoppable flood that threatened to spill over and drown him. "Spring at the Saress'ka." He closed his eyes, giving into the wave of images that rippled into his mind.
The green lands of the southern unihorns ranged in flats and hills as far as even his eyes could see, stretching out forever under the ever-changing sky. He'd sat under the shelter of the spring green trees, not risking his young skin under the flashes of sunlight, thinking. Just thinking. Trying to sort out in his mind the events of the past years that had led him to seek refuge in the Herdlands, far away from his home in Ghovan. He'd written a lot in the secrecy of his mind, thousands of words never seeing the daylight, forgotten to the wind as soon as he returned from hawk shape, or one of the Herd approached him.
Only a few of his craftings remained, the thin sheet of paper that lay over Aluraios's pale skin one of them, and the touch of his partner's hand on his brought him back from the silence of the valleys. "Remind me to take you there when we move next."
"I doubt we'd be allowed in," the sunperson said wryly, craning his head back to look at Lyer. "Unless you've got some unknown contacts in the Herds?"
Lyer shook his head, his black braid swinging across his shoulder, "You've got a point there, love. I haven't visited in years, and unihorns don't," he sighed closing his eyes for a moment, "live forever. Old Liptos was Herd-lord in the Saress'ka when I was there. Pity, you'd love the spring celebrations." A light laugh broke the melacholy mood which shrouded them, "More than I did, as an unwelcome guest that no-one dared insult. It took weeks for Liptos to greet me formally, and if they have any reference to me in that oral history of theirs, it's first as an annoyance, then as an unobtrusive human who spent all day doing nothing but write, make polite conversation and then take off in an utterly useless shape to one of the hilltops." He shook his head, grinning as the hawk shifter's mutter of annoyance.
Aluraios leaned back against the tongue that suddenly lapped at the pink shell of his ear, his eyes drifting closed again. "I had to, I don't think they'd have apreciated my trying to feed off any of them." Lyer continued, wrapping his arms tighter, letting the mocking tone wind it's way into his voice. "They found it hard enough to accept a blood mage into their little haven of sweetness and light anyway."
"How in darkness did you get in then?"
"Invoked the Pact of Life, the one which the Separation replaced, they couldn't refuse me entry unless they could show I was dangerous."
Teeth nipped gently at the soft flesh, and the sunperson chuckled softly. "You're only dangerous in large amounts or when you're angry." The teeth tightened momentarily before releasing the delicate ear and his arms to allow Aluraios to roll over onto his front carefully, trying not to dig his elbows into his lover on the narrow confines of the couch. "You're just addictive in small doses." He muttered as Lyer's hands drifted down over his back, and their lips met in a deep kiss.
© Clare Selley 2009
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