Lyer & Aluraios | Meeting
The sound was muffled by the opulent wall hangings that draped the Great Hall of Durles Holm's walls, but it still echoed on the grand oak beams that reclinded across its roof back down to the floor below. There it met with a whirling mass of colour as the formality of Court shifted into the impromptu festival that occured once the Lord and Lady had retired with their retinue and the older, or wiser, adults had made their way to their rooms.
That wasn't to say all the power-players had removed themselves, the whirlwind's eye was, at present, occupied by a graceful figure making an elegant bow to a girl, whose calculating eyes belied her light flirtatious giggles. His arms were outstretched as he poised on a silken-clad crooked knee, as if to fly, while the moment seemed to hang for him, waiting for his leave to move again. It was no surprise that the figure was attracting so much attention, the slender body, coupled with the exotic brown-gold eyes, striking silver hair and the quicksilver grace, but the fact that a Sunperson was in Court, when they rarely, if ever, they left their Cliffs to travel far, and the fact he did have the exotic looks, when usually it was the females who were gifted with those, in return for their drab hawk bodies, was the surprise for no few people.
Especially for a solitary figure lounging in a shadowed corner. Why on the god's way did I decide to come to Court tonight? he thought morosely, trying to lose himself in the rich swirls of colour that swept past his shielded little alcove. Oh, yes, I remember, I /wanted/ to be distracted by the pretty colours. He wedged himself further in, yanking as a stand of black hair caught on a decorative plaster border, and consequently wincing as it came free. After 304 years he knew Sunfolk enough to recognise this was an odd one.
He groaned suddenly as the unmistakable feeling of another mage close by suddenly washed over him, Just when I was enjoying myself, damn you! He growled, the annoyance making him forget that he had not been enjoying himself at all. Can this night get any worse?
Then the silver-haired Sunperson turned suddenly to another lady at his side, causing the shields surrounding him to ripple to anyone with the slightest ability to see energy. It can. He's the bloody mage. He took a deep breath as he concentrated on projecting the idea that he was not there, hoping that the Fireborn was not past his own Minor status. His life was complicated enough without being thrown out of Durles.
The old town was perfect for him, the lack of anemities and entertainment disuading most mages from it, and those that did pass through were travellers, easy for a vampiric mage to avoid for a day or two. Then there was the large hunting woods that the Lord kept, private of course, and guarded from poachers, but a lone falcon winging it's way into the woods wasn't noted, and as he refused to kill, feeding as little as he dared to keep himself sane, his presence was noted only by a slightly weaving deer as his bird-shape winged away an hour later.
He watched as the Fireborn's handsome face twisted in puzzlement for a second as he gazed towards the alcove, before returning to a courtly grin as his slender hand was grasped by a passing girl, pulling him into the whirling dancers. His own face dropped, and he tore his eyes away from the flashes of white that tranced through the crowds. He's gorgeous, he's exotic and he's practically worshipped. He thought bitterly, I'm just turned out of towns and called strange. Mental fingers reached out to carress the interlocking magic that formed his personal shields, feeling the two distinct types that interlocked around him and caused that state of affairs. Any strong Minor, Major or Mage Lord who managed to touch those shields would realise that he held two powers, that of the human he once was, and the vampire he was now. No-one else in 300 years had had magic from another species other than their own.
Closing his eyes, he centered himself, stopping the long repeated solinqy before it started, opening them afresh on the hypnotic swirls of colour and enjoying the fact that he didn't have to play the heir and young lord any more, a pleasure that never quite faded in its attraction. His eyes stayed distinctly averted from the elegant ivory slivers that weaved among the bright Court outfits, and after it disappeared for a time he sighed, half with relief, and equally with disappointment. Even through the jealousy and the fear that he'd be revealed, he felt a strong physical attraction to the slim boy, barely a man and if circumstances were different. If circumstances were different you would have been dead 260 years ago. Stop complaining. He told himself sternly, casting a furtive glance around the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Fireborn.
"What name are you called, Minor?" the soft voice behind him was just deepened into rich deep adult tones.
Lyer spun, forcing deep-rooted instincts back with centuries trained will to present a human face to... to the sunfolk mage. Up close the eyes which had glinted like gold-laced crystal held amber fires that caught his gaze and refracted it back to form a net that only trapped him further like a cat startled by a forest fire. The storm of light and colour of the Court faded to insignificance at the pure ice tumbling around the pale face and the gently ironic smile catching on the edge of the full lips. "Lyer Rew, Rewley." he murmured off guard and stopping himself suddenly. Have some sense of self preservation idiot! he berated himself, pulling away from the deadly sunlight and snow figure as he discovered to his embarrassment he'd stepped closer. This isn't Ioru, but you can't risk it!/ "And you?" He managed to gather himself together enough to reply.
The ironic smiled blossomed and threatened to ensnare him again as the gently curving lips parted to draw breath and answer. "My name is Aluraios Zephyr." Chuckling softly at the expectant gaze, "Major." he added.
With weak-kneed relief Lyer realised that unlike himself the fireborn couldn't tell different magics apart, while the ability had been getting rarer for nearly two hundred years, he hadn't realised it'd declined in non-human mages too. Double checking his shielding, knowing that as a Major the fireborn could easily find and exploit holes in his weaker energies, he bent into a Court bow, slightly deeper than protocol required, allowing the higher rank to do the shallower, as also required by the strict protocol.
"What brings a fireborn major here?" he asked as he straightened, curiousity overcoming his attraction and fear. He'd met a few of the reclusive sunfolk about... a long time ago, and they had seemed very reluctant to leave their Cliffs in the north for any reason.
The bright lights were echoed in the hawken-gold eyes, "To see the world, to learn, to meet, people." Those eyes trapped Lyer again as a few strands of that pure white hair wafted in front of them, and they seduced him with a snake's cold warmth. A slim finger hooked the hairs and pulled them away, and the feather brush of flesh on his arm seemed half imagined as the hand dropped back to the fireborn's side.
Tearing himself away again to blink in the renoticed brightness he casually forced himself to push his own hair back behind his ears. Will you get some control here! He took a deep breath, stroking the fabric of his tunic over his hips and reminding himself that his personal taste was considered wrong and in Ioru was illegal. This Court was close enough to the borders as made no difference, and there was no way this gorgeous fireborn would, could, possibly return the attraction.
Looking over the midnight clad shoulder his thoughts were confirmed by the jealous herd of Court females, from young girls to experienced Ladies, standing still among the flurry, their combined and angry gaze thrown at the pair as rivalry gave way to solid indignity. "It looks like you found some, people." The same subtle inflection made the fireborn look back round from where he'd followed the vampire's gaze to meet his eyes, and Lyer realised that this Aluraios was actually shorter than him, and younger than he'd first thought.
"But don't you think fillies get a little, boring?" Those eyes fixed on him from under heavy white lashes, "Court fillies especially tend to be all show and no brains."
Again the insinuation of skin on skin and Lyer's own golden eyes turned startled as Aluraios smiled again, this time with more than a hint of suggestion. "With the risk of offence Lord Zephyr..."
"What I'm proposing is illegal at least?"
Lyer inclined his head in aquisiance but jerked it up abruptly as fingers stroked the ebony hair that slipped over his own green clad shoulder and wrapped it around themselves.
"I'm no Lord." Out of the corner of his eye Lyer watched in half panic, half arousal as the black strands were lifted boldly to the other's lips. The hawken eyes glittered again in the light as they glanced semi closed sideways at him, a michievous grin alighting on the seemingly mature formal features.
© Clare Selley 2009
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