Lyer & Aluraios | First Contact
He had been born in, and and lived for seventeen years in, the hottest, most humid part of the world, and yet Major Aluraios Zephyr was choking on the cloying overheated perfumed air in Mage-Lord Dakram's Courtroom. And dying of boredom. Gritting his teeth into a semblance of a smile, he nodded politely to one of the girls around him. One of the empty headed moths who had been flitting around him, drawn by his exotic species, and even more exotic looks.
Long white hair fell and shimmered into golden-brown eyes, and over his midnight-blue clad shoulder - though now it was slightly tangled with sweat and motion - as the girl tittered, batting her eyelashes at him. She would have been attractive to him, with soft black curls arranged artfully in a tumble over the cream lace and silk dress, and melting deep brown eyes, if both her looks and intelligence didn't remind him of a pampered lapdog.
He nodded again as she admired at length the elegance of the room, longing more and more for the cooler air outside. He usually adored the chaos of Court, the dancing, music, socialising, flirting, gossip, but he should have expected one of, if not the, most powerful Mage-Lords in the human world to have one of the biggest Courts, especially when Lord Dakram held them so rarely. But unluckily the size of the Holm's Courtroom was not in proportion to the number of the present occupants.
Unconsiously he ran a hand over his neck, lifting the hair from the sweat, and wishing he'd bothered to do it up instead of talking to the comely stableboy at the inn where he was staying. The girl didn't even notice, rambling on regardless of the show of irritation, and he interrupted her smoothly when she didn't slow. "My lady must excuse me, I am not used to the atmosphere in a Court like this, and my kind feels more comfortable in the open air, and I fear I must leave your presence to find a less confined space." He excused the minor lies with a courteous smile, grateful that the little featherhead wouldn't know that Sunfolk lived in caves in their Cliffs, and he'd been to plenty of Courts outside Ioru. Although the sky /was/ preferable to the firelit Cliffs, and the other Courts hadn't been nearly as big as this, hosted by Majors or weak Mage-Lords.
The girl tittered again, a noise which grated above all else on his sensitive ears and was then replaced by her equally irritating voice. "I could come with you my lord, and show you the many gardens of our Lord's Holm."
"I fear that the view I prefer would be from a place that you have not the means to follow me to." Aluraios said, grimancing inwardsly at the sickeningly sweet Court language he was, for some reason, expected by Court society to use. Putting a look of deep regret on his face, he hoped the girl would also be ignorant of the strict limitations placed on his form-shifting, for instance that without the sun, or a fire, it was impossible.
He was rewarded by a plump lower lip forming into a pout as the girl's face swiftly twisted into a disappointed look, her eyes gaining an even more puppy-like gaze as if practised for hours in front of a mirror. Which, the fireborn reflected cynically, it probably was. He gave her an apologetic full bow, his arms outstretched in the manner of the sunfolk, pointedly ignoring the looks of the crowd bumping against them, and then turned to merge with the mass of lords, ladies, servants and courtiers that swirled in a riotous dance before she could delay him again.
He looked upwards to gasp a much needed breath of minutely cooler air, as he looked around to find the nearest exit that looked like it might lead out the Courtroom, anywhere would be infintely more relaxing compared to the crushing oppressive heat. Remembering the girl's mindless gobbling, he did pause to admire the ceiling, a huge expanse of creamy white, supported by massive pale wooden beams that arched across the vaulted stone roof, a beautiful simplicity that merged effortlessly with the cream and tan walls, the slight sheen suggesting they were, from what he remembered from the few books in the Cliffs, drackon glazed. Which put the room at over two hundred years old. And the bright wall hangings looked as if they had been woven by sunfolk, the style and patterns very similar to the few he had hanging on his own stone walls to muffle sound and keep in heat. Looking closer, grateful for his sight was powerful even in human form, he noticed several of them even depicted the firebird legend of his people, confirming his guess.
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, he hadn't expected any of the old tapestries from before the Seperation to still exist, let alone retain their bright colours, he caught sight of a small door set in a slight alcove, framed in the same pale wood, the cool darkness beyond the portal lit with the soft flicker of candlelight. While the main Courtroom was also lit by hundreds of candles, the overpowering and encircling unnatural brightness was starting to hurt his eyes along with the bright Court garb the Iorux seemed to prefer.
He slowly made his way across the room, slipping through the thick crowds with strained but practised ease. Panelled in the same wood that adorned the rest of the room, the pale floor added a touch of the exotic where other Courtrooms were polished or natural stone. However, he didn't want to even think about the maintainance costs of the easily worn timber.
Shaking off the wince that came from suddenly finding it incredibly difficult not to think about the cost, he eagerly moved against the glow to the beckoning gap, using the slim authority and arrogance, he could command as a fireborn sunperson to give him a superior edge and further aid his passage.
He exhaled a slow sigh of relief when the Court suddenly gave way to the air, feeling like he'd passed through a shield. Now he could at least take free steps without worrying about his hair being caught and pulled from the wrist clasps that held it in the two abstract wing-halves under his arms when they were outstretched. Quickly he checked the dark blue tightly woven fabric of his tunic, the shorter, tighter top was more likely to tear than his favoured looser lounging robes, and he silently thanked whatever had prompted him not to wear the matching robe-coat today. The flowing blue and white material was very delicate and not at all suited to the riot that Lord Dakram seemed to call a Court.
As the cool darkness enveloped him, the dim candlelight nothing compared to the bright Courtroom, and his eyes adjusted to it, he laughed wryly. One of the sunfolk enjoying the dark in preference to the light. While there had been old Orasial who had preferred the black depths of his Cave in the Cliffs, he had been a glaring exception in a culture that worshipped the sun Goddess.
Following the stone walls, the large grey blocks worn slightly by age, and lit every twenty paces or so by candles, he realised the passage was a servant's run, and the polished floor was due to the movements back and forth over the years. A feeling of intruding crept over him, as his attitude faded to nervousness, even the pet of the Cliffs was not excempt from punishment for trespassing. But before he could surrender to the instinct to turn to flee back to where he was meant to be, the mischievous that came with being seventeen permeated his mind.
After taking a few moments to remind himself firmly that he wasn't in the Cliffs any more, he moved almost silently along the run. The situation called up memories of all the times he'd run raids on the kitchen cavern for his friends for midnight food and parties, knowing that if he was caught, any punishment he'd receive would still be light in comparison to what they'd get. Half consciously he decided to play by the unspoken rules of those games, no changing to hawk shape using the candlelight, and he started searching the darkness for the passing holes where he could duck into to prevent being seen.
Several passages branched off at intervals from his, and it was with reluctance that he chose to stay on the one from the Courtroom, telling his sense of adventure that he'd have to go back eventually, and getting lost in a Mage-Lord's Holm wasn't very intelligent anyway. The soft scent of fresh air as he slipped past a connecting run startled him though, and he half turned to squint down the corridor. A breeze skittered up to tease his hair, and that with the desire to finally get out into the open air settled him.
He relaxed from his quiet steps, allowing the leather boots to ring out his eagerness as he approached the hazy candlelight from what had to be a yard. Hesitating at the entrance to what he could now see was a small circular enclosed sitting yard, he let his eyes adjust once again to the lighting.
A small pool in the centre surrounded by trees and benches greeted his vision when it cleared, the pool tinted with human magic to his mage senses, and he guessed it was to power the small fountain in the middle of the pond. Dark green leafy trees bent their branches down to caress the water and trail in and around the metal worked seats while the half-moon of the night sky reflected on the edge of the pool. The silence was broken only by the water's splashing, both from the fountain and the boy who sat on the rim of the patchwork wall surrounding the water, trailing his hand in the silver sheered liquid.
The boy turned from the main entrance to the yard as Aluraios stepped out onto the paved yard, blonde hair falling carelessly into startled youthful eyes. "Hey, I..." His eyes instantly dropped in deference as he saw Aluraios's face, and the fireborn noticed with interest that the boy wore the livery of one of Lord Dakram's manservants.
"I'm sorry, my lord. I was expecting someone else." the boy murmured, lifting his hand from the water to stand up and move servilly by the pond wall. "If you wish to enjoy the pool..."
"A servant waiting for his sweetheart while his lord is otherwise engaged?" Aluraios aked, his eyes scanning over the other's body and letting a hint of his disapproval into his question. The boy looked to be around his own age, young for the position the rich yellow and grey cloth that robed him spoke of, but already grown into the soft-muscled body which was slightly taller than the fireborn's own slender frame. Long arms hung by his side, deceptively relaxed to Aluraios's powerful vision, which saw the minute muscle spasms under the lightly tanned skin.
The boy looked up slightly, scooping his fringe from his eyes, "No, my lord, Lord Dakram gave me this hour leave while he met with the other lords."
Aluraios smiled slightly, watching the boy's diffidence with slight amusement. He ran his eyes over him again quickly, examining his posture and outward attitude and wondering if it wase safe to flirt with him. He's a servant, I'm a fireborn sunperson, I can get away with it. he decided, moving over to sit next to the spot the boy had vacated on the cool stone, lifting one foot to perch on the edge of it. "It's Aluraios, not 'my lord'." he said, looking out of the corner of his eye at the servant boy with a grin, "Come and sit back down, I'm not going to hold to rank out here. Why aren't you joining in the Court if you've got a free hour?" He patted the wall as he spoke, letting his voice finally relax from the stiff style of formal speech.
"I see enough of Court as Lord Dakram's manservant." the boy replied, cautiously regaining his seat and wriggling into a comfortable position on the pocked surface. "I prefer the quietness out here."
Aluraios turned to trail a hand in the water, watching it slip like smooth silk over his finger as he tried to ignore the boy's movement and its effect on him. He glanced to the side, trying to gauge whether the boy had meant to have that particular effect on him and caught a glimmer of apprecation in the green depths as the boy quickly looked away from his own apprasial of the fireborn mage. Oh, he thought with an inwards grin, someone likes what they see? He'd been on the end of enough looks over his seventeen years to recognise one of attraction rather than appreciation, although the two were often intermingled. And he was well aware that he had better than average features.
In the Cliffs he'd had prospective mates of both sexes propositioning him since he was old enough to wing it, which for sunfolk was 14, and some before then, who had taught him the delicate arts of love, flirting and sex. He'd not formed a life partnership with any of them, that took a serious and genuine act of love between a pair, but he'd had enough flights, both in hawk and human form, to be somewhat of an expert in the subject. The outside world had confirmed that opinion.
He cocked his head on one side, half listening to the silence, half making sure his hair fell just so in a silver waterfall over his arm, "It is nice out here, I usually love Court, but your lord's is much bigger than others I've visited."
"That's because he holds them so rarely. The land he holds covers a large area of northern Ioru, and he's the most powerful Lord in the north." The words were softly spoken and almost devoid of inflection as the boy studied the floor with remarkable interest.
Glancing down momentarily to study the elegant flagstones that meandered their way across to the flickering shadows, Aluraios lifted his head to the night sky, arching his back to the dawning light of the stars. "If this was daytime what would you be doing in this hour?" At the boy's suprised glance he continued with a light laugh, "I'd probably be visiting the markets for new embroidery thread. My new lounging robe needs some decent ornametation."
"I'd probably be hunting," the boy's voice was slightly more confident now as he looked up to meet the fireborn's eyes for the first time, "As Lord Dakram's manservant I often get to go along." a smile blossomed on his mouth, "I even have two mounts of my own."
"Horses." Aluraios spat the word in disgust, a smile taking the edge off his voice, "I've never got the hang of the things, they're uncomfortable, uncontrollable and uncommonly elegant." His voice twisted into wry tones as he finished speaking, "They look good." he admitted, turning a grudging grin on his partner.
Rich laughter floated across the night air as Aluraios leaned back slightly from the shaking boy, "And what's so funny?" He raised an eyebrow as the boy shook his head, shrugging off the light touch on his shoulder.
"How can you not like horses?" the boy shook his head, pushing his hair back from where it'd fallen again into his eyes, now damp with tears of laughter, "'They look good'? Is that all the praise you can give them?"
"Er, yes..."
"How do you travel? Don't you miss having a constant companion who will carry you all day and night, who would brave anything for you, who would warm you and hide nothing from you?" the boy continued eagerly, gesturing emphatically with his hand.
"Usually on wings," Aluraios said blandly, before a michevious grin lifted a corner of his mouth, "And I wouldn't mind you doing the last." Lifting his hand he placed it on the upstretched palm lightly, letting his eyes soften to candlelit amber globes.
The laughter stopped abruptly, giving way to wide emerald eyed shock, "That is illegal here." he whispered roughly, leaning forwards slightly in emphasis, "Don't try it on anyone here, you could end up dead!"
With a small smile, the fireborn lifted his hand to touch the soft cheek, roughed only with a sprinkling of stubble, flicking the darkened sandy hair away with one slender finger. "So how come you're not running to get the priests?"
"Ferel." The one word made the servant's head swiftly turn with fearful relief from the palm's embrace as a shadow in the doorway coalesed into a young man. Aluraios winced inwardly as he recognised their host, lowering his hand to his side as he rose to execute a full bow, a tinge of fear running over his stomach as the boy immediately went to one knee before his lord, the sound of his hands and knee hitting the stone echoing in the silence.
Aluraios frowned for a second as he felt immense power suddenly swell outwards from the Mage-Lord and, to his magesight, wrap the broad body in dangerously rippling and agitated waves. What's wrong with his control? he thought worriedly, checking his own shielding, even as the magic was damped to almost nothing under a tight shield spell and the moment passed. Straightening slowly, he looked up at their intruder.
Replesent in a dark wine tunic that sparked false highlights in the short styled black hair, the mage turned his angry gaze from where it had first landed on the boy with a look of extreme displeasure, to him where it darkened to deep annoyance, "You do know that it is illegal for two men to have a relationship in Ioru, I hope?" the quiet voice was softly intense.
Aluraios raised a slender eyebrow, crossing his arms casually, forcing himself to look relaxed, "Your servant wasn't complaing."
"If it was anyone but me who'd discovered this, you would likely be dead or arrested by now." Lord Dakram said tightly, his voice ringing with authority and supressed emotion. He stepped further into the candlelight where Aluraios could see his eyes matched the deep midnight blue of the water, "I'll speak with you later about this, Ferel," a burning glance stopped the anticipated outburst as the manservant lifted his head, "As for you, Major Aluraios, I'd recommend, for all our healths, that you curb your attentions."
The sandy-haired servant bowed his head again, but not before Aluraios caught the flash of absolute regret that crossed the glistening forest green eyes. "Yes, my lord." he murmured, standing slowly, his eyes flashing closed for a split second as he bit his lip, before he walked past the tall regal figure out of the courtyard and into the shadows.
© Clare Selley 2009
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