Thursday, October 25, 2001

-----

Someone was licking his ear. Not really -licking- it, per se, more like... bathing it. It didn't tickle, however; whoever was doing it wasn't teasing.

They stopped, and just as Kelvath had opened his mouth to complain, teeth scraped across the side of his neck. Oh, -yes-... They weren't teasing at all. These touches were sure and firm, the caresses of a lover who knew what they wanted...

"What do -you- want, hm?" They whispered, breath warm against his cheek and cool on his still-damp ear.

"What do I want? When?" He must still be coming out of his ordeal with the Kil'shari spirits... That wasn't what he'd meant to say.

"Later. When the war is over and you're a free man." A hand was touching his face, palm against cheek and fingers in his hair.

"Oh... I think... A cottage on the coast. In a nice quiet town, where I can just collect my stipend and spend it on foolish things, like sweet cakes and too many books." He sighed. Arousal was easy, cheap. Just to lie here and talk? "What about you?" Maybe it could last a little longer...

"Too many books... Me?" They chuckled and bit his earlobe. "I want to be with you, silly! Wherever you want to be. The seaside would be quite pleasant, I think."

Kelvath finally turned his head, but there was no one there. "With me...?" Silence. He sighed again and looked up at the ceiling. The pattern looked familiar...

Oh Kannah, it was -Avrath's-. He was too tangled up in the blankets to get up; he fought over to the edge of the bed, fell off --

...and woke up.

He lifted his head, looking around. A dull glow from the brazier at the foot of his (his very own, thank the Gods) bed was reflected in the curves of his piled armor; caught the edge of his desk where years of use had polished it. There was no one stirring outside, so it must be late...

Kelvath got up, cursed as he stepped in an icy puddle of slush, and poked his head out of the flap. No footprints marred the latest snowfall, which was illuminated by the startlingly full moon. It was full already?

-----

"Kelvath, have you been sleeping well of late?" Telsem was frowning at him.

"Eh? Oh... Not really." He blinked, yawned, and tried to focus on whatever they'd been working on.

"Do you know why?" Telsem glanced across the table at Mikshet, who was now watching Kelvath.

"I keep having these...dreams." Moon charts. Moon charts and positioning charts and a survey of the lie of the ridge rising behind the camp... The ritual, right.

"Dreams? About what?" Avrath was looking at him, now.

Acutely aware that -everyone- at the table was now waiting for his answer, Kelvath frowned. "Just... Dreams. About... Nothing, really. The future."

"The future? Seeing dreams?" Mikshet's voice was dry and thin, like old leaves.

"No, not Seeing... Just- Someone keeps asking me what I want to do, afterwards. And I keep telling them, and it's something different every time. And I ask them, they just- they -always- say they want to be with me, and when I try to look at them, they're not there." He took a deep breath and let it out, slowly.

"That's all?" Mikshet was leaning toward him.

"Yes."

"Why do you lie?"

Kelvath's eyes widened. "Sir- Sir, I..." He dropped his gaze, toying with the pen before him. "They're not for... They're not... I don't want to tell you about them."

"Kelvath..." Avrath was sitting up straight. "It could...have a rather -deep- impact on what we're about to try, according to the book. Strange dreams, or more dreams than usual... I don't pretend to understand it all, but it's important."

Kelvath shook his head violently. "Sir, I... I respectfully refuse to- to reveal to -anyone- any of the rest of my dreams. Sir."

Siltha tilted her head, noting that the deputy's face was bright red. "Perhaps if I left, you'd feel more comfortable?"

"I- No- I- No- Er-" He covered his face with both hands and rested his forehead on the edge of the table. "May I be dismissed to go hide in a hole for the rest of my life now?" Kelvath mumbled, waiting for the inevitable burst of laughter.

The only sound was that of Siltha leaving.

He slowly uncurled, looking around at the others. No one said a word, and no one was smiling.

"Azri," Mikshet said softly, "what have you been dreaming about?"

He told them, starting with the disappearing whisperer and Avrath's bed, ending with a highly edited version of the morning's spectacle. "So... That's it."

"That...doesn't sound like anything that was mentioned in the book." Telsem shook his head.

Mikshet frowned. "No, it doesn't. If you dream of war, or death, or... What was the other thing?"

"Famine and plague," Avrath said, pretending to study the Grimoire again.

"Those, yes, tell me. Immediately."

Kelvath nodded, then gave the holy man a funny look. "Sir, this- this is a war, and I've been involved with it for the last five years. I dream about it on a fairly regular basis."

"I know that," the little man snapped, "however, if you have any -new- ones, or if they seem particularly violent or -different- in any way, I want to know."

"Oh. Sorry, sir." Kelvath nodded once.

------------

Avrath watched Kelvath gathering his things, his arms folded. Kelvath had been dreaming of him? Well, no, he'd simply said he'd dreamed of his -bed-. "Kelvath," he said, as an idea occurred to him.

"Yes, sir?" Oh, now what? Please please don't let it be more questions...

"If you...want to go into Cromveth, for the weekend, you certainly may." He smiled a little. "Just -tell- me before you leave, all right?"

Well, -that- hadn't been what he'd been expecting. "Thank you, sir. Perhaps I will." He doubted he would, but it was nice to have the option. Kelvath shuffled his papers together, then rolled his pens and ink bottles up inside them.

"You really should have an occasional night off, you know. You work harder than any of us, and..." Avrath trailed off, waving a hand in an expansive gesture.

"You've been ill, sir. I'm... I just do what I can." He shrugged and managed to make himself meet the commander's eyes, saluting.

"I know. And I appreciate that." He returned the salute, somewhat diffidently. "Dismissed."

"Sir." And he ducked out.

--------------

Kelvath didn't want to go into town. What if Silver and the boy were still there? What if they weren't? Why was he even -worrying- about it? All he really wanted was...for the war to be done with. That's all he really wanted... After it was done, -then- he'd worry about his future.

And if his future included Avrath? He shook his head sharply. No, no, no, there was no reason to be thinking about that. He was exhausted, that was all. He'd go take a nap, and then he'd be fine.

Unfortunately, he wasn't.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know any more. Why do you want to know? And who are you?" He kept his eyes squeezed shut.

"You don't know any more? Don't you want -me- any more? And you know very well who I am." They nipped at the tip of his ear, trailed fingers along the side of his neck.

"I don't know you, I don't! And I just... I don't -know-. I want this all to be over with. I want a real bed, and four solid walls, and a real fire. I want... I want you to leave me alone!" He gasped, and as soon as the words were said he knew he didn't -really- mean them... Or did he?

"Oh."

Just that. Just 'oh', and no more. They didn't leave, however.

Kelvath decided he'd try one last time, and then he'd start ignoring them. Provided they came back, of course. He opened his eyes and turned his head.

Avrath leaned in and kissed him.

Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:00 PM |

Tuesday, October 23, 2001

Well, I fixed the problems in MooTII, and now you too can read it in its entirety -- here. Enjoy, Or Something.
Posted by: Shannon M.: 1:29 PM |

Monday, October 22, 2001

Lookit! More transcription of MooT -- Avrath/Kelvath stuff! (And also lookit, smuttish bits. Biiiiiiig surprise, right?)

No real notes/warnings, other than I miscapitalized Kil'shari a bunch of times and didn't run a spellcheck (though I _did_ catch 'breath' where I wanted 'breathe', which would have been missed by a spell-check).

So, Enjoy, Or Something.

"Chethwith! Just the man I wanted to see..." Kelvath waved as he walked toward the corral, thankful for the coincidence. "I'll trade you news for news."

"Sir!" He saluted, then grinned. "Sir, sir- they -found- it! They found the Grimoire, and they're on the way to Cromveth now!"

"The Grimoire- They- oh, thanks be to Kannah, blessed art Thou above all others..." He ran a hand through his hair and looked uselessly in the direction of the town. "When will they arrive?"

"We- They're not sure. About two weeks, if things go well. Oh! And news on the reinforcements, too... The Chancellor of War is drafting again, and we should have another regiment joining us in a month." He drew himself up to his full height. "You said you had news for me, sir?"

Kelvath sighed, then frowned. He'd been sighing a -lot-, of late. "All right, thank you. And...ah, good work."

"Thank you, sir. Your news?" Chethwith raised his eyebrows and waited patiently.

"News? Oh, yes, I'm- I was distracted. Ah, you're going to be part of the detail responsible for the transport of the prisoner, all the way up to Kislina."

Chethwith stood up even straighter (if that was possible) and nodded sharply. "Yes, sir."

----------

Time ran at a epoch pace. New civilizations rose, flourished, fell, and were discovered by the people that came after.

Kelvath spent the days alternately staring at the trail running out toward Cromveth and nervously flittering between various projects, both his own and those of others. When he found himself attempting to oversee the reshoeing of the few healthy horses they had, he gave up and went to see Avrath, much to the relief of the camp smiths.

"Sir?"

"No, I haven't heard anything, Kelvath."

"Er, I was actually going to ask if I might come in." He hung his head, even though no one was looking at him. The back of his neck was warm.

"Oh... Well, certainly." Avrath sat up and stretched, feeling various portions of his back pop unpleasantly. He needed to start moving more... He straightened the things on the table before him, then turned to watch Kelvath enter.

Kelvath ducked into the tent, composure regained. "Hello, sir."

"Hello." He arched a brow, unable to settle on a single question for his agitated second.

"I... Well..." He looked around, glanced at the work on the desk, wrung his hands. "Er... Never mind, sir, you're very busy, as I should be- am! As I am, I... I'll go, now." He turned, took a half step, and turned back. "Good day, sir." He saluted and scurried out.

"Good day..."

Kelvath ignored the amused tone of Avrath's voice and marched himself back to his own tent.

It was going to be a very, very -long- week.

----------

Some Days Later:

Kelvath woke slowly, head muzzy and mouth sticky. Damned Kil'Shari liquors... Hm. He snuggled sdown into the blankets he was wrapped in, letting his thoughts drift and scatter like sheep.

Kil'Shari.... The pretty Kil'Shari boy with honey on his lips and candleglow dancing in his eyes... Kil'Shari boy. Short legs and talented hands and two coins on whether... Whether...

Two coins say he -- Kelvath -- would be staying with the Gi'shel and Kil'Shari--

Someone had spat at the idea.

Four coins say that he ends up warming -your- bed-- Whose bed? Who'd said that?

Well, it wasn't -his- bed, his ass was too warm. Unless a fair number of them had been too drunk to stagger back to camp and they'd stayed at the inn... He pushed his head into the pillow. And there was another mark to prove he was somewhere besides his own bed -- _He_ didn't -have- a pillow.

Damned Kil'Shari liquors. Three -days- to recover from a decent blind-drunk, though strangely without pain... He wondered vaguely why it -didn't- hurt, though he wasn't about to protest. Granted, you couldn't -think- much, or move, or do much of _anything_ else beyond sleep, but still...

Bed. Kelvath forced his eyes open and stared at the wall before him. Pattern. Wall. Fabric.

 

Fabric wall. Fabric wall with pattern.

 

Pattern on fabric wall that wasn't his. Whose?

 

He closed his eyes and let himself drift again.

 

Honey on his lips and fire in his eyes... Seen him before, Kil'shari whorehouse... That's right; never seen the Gi'shel before, 'cept...whenever that was, all those months ago.

So deliciously warm. Never liked his leaky tent and paltry four or five blankets. And no pillow. Filthy blankets, too, not been washed in a sixmonth or more...

Four says you'll be warming -his- bed- eyes flicking and head tipping over... But Kelvath still couldn't remember. Or see... No matter. It was just table-talk, the sort of faintly malicious teasing that they always indulged in after a certain point...

There were raised voices outside. Arguing. He didn't bother trying to figure out what they were saying, just let the sound fade out of his consciousness. Kelvath laboriously turned over onto his back and pulled the blankets up over his face. It was a little hard to breathe, sure, but his nose was warm.

He woke with a start some time later as cold air and light poured into the tent. Someone was growling to themselves as the light faded; Kelvath turned his face away as snow crystals spattered his cheek and melted into tiny spots of dampness.

"...my own bed. What -am- I to do with you?"

Kelvath blinked as cold, rough fingers brushed his forehead. Shame, really, that such nice hands were left to chap and crack and bleed...Wasn't there oil or something for that? And...

That was the other danger of drinking so much. Everything was nice and fascinating and presented no danger whatsoever. The glitter on the blade of a knife would be greeted with interest, even as it cut one's throat.

Avrath sighed at the blank look on Kelvath's face. The whole thing was his fault, in a way... If he'd told them all to march straight back to camp- but there were the recent rains and the subsequently swollen rivers to consider, and since it was raining, dark, and freezing by the time the negotiations had concluded... And what harm was there in celebrating? Even the people not involved in the transaction had cheered the news that the war would probably end soon...

It took a monumental effort, but Kelvath managed to grasp the hand and pull it down under the bedding, to rest between his neck and his shoulder. Too cold to be allowed, he thought blearily. And it was nice of Avrath to come see him in the medic's tent...

Avrath frowned and pulled his hand back. The boy -- oh, that was a silly way to think of him. Silly... The whole damned mess was -silly- and _stupid_ and...

The bed shuddered a little as avrath sat down on the edge of it. Kelvath wondered if he'd be able to string enough words together to ask him... Something. Why he was here. Why... Why the pattern on the cieling looked so familiar...

Avrath was speaking, but Kelvath couldn't really make himself pay attention.

*Dramatic Sting* To Be Continued...

Posted by: Shannon M.: 11:58 PM |