Brittle

[Asher]

SEARING 23, 122

He succumbed to the fists of his Handler, and wore a split lip, crimson red with the markings of battered muscle along the contour of his cheek. Asher slept like that -- almost -- though a rag and some water helped taper down the most immediate elements of his wound. The Knight did not come to see Asher on the twenty second, even though he intended to... even though he had effectively promised that he would. Unfortunately, the Matchmaker denied his request for Talon's accommodations, and she saw fit to encourage his Handler to punish his audacity, or so he assumed. In the morning, he awoke with a bruise or three, but also -- evidently -- a bottle of procured aphrodisiac, a high concentration substance meant to serve as a substitute for a bed and a room. It would work, he supposed, though he was reticent to bring the bottle with him.

For the first thirty minutes after waking, he attempted to treat his face to lessen the visible signs of his beating. It didn't work, much, which only frustrated him, though not for long. He wasn't so marred as to look entirely else, and there was little swelling by the time noon came. Asher had always been a durable man, and it was evident that his Handler did not intend to disfigure him. That would only disrupt the Imperium's intentions.

Around six in the eve, he was allowed to return to Talon. This time, the Knight had been informed beforehand that he would be made to stay there for most of the night, if not all of it. His encouragement was clear: they wished for him to copulate. He wasn't certain how adamant they were on that idea, but it was clear he couldn't dawdle forever. Eventually, they would possibly find another Kathar who they believed would be more successful in persuading Talon, whether or not Asher's initial moments with him were quite successful. They would balance their approach between seeking an organic resolution to their desires, and expediting them if necessary. The Imperium was all about cost-benefit analyses, after all.

And so, wearing a simple white linen shirt, the man made his way to the cathedral again. His Handler did not accompany him this time, nor did his wings, which he had made recede into his back; another application of his Quirk. Proud of them as he was, Asher sometimes liked to masquerade as something almost approximating a human man.

The doors parted again, and with little pause the man approached his would-be lover, his black boots thudding against the ground until he made his way to his side, pausing for a moment as he came into the light. His bruises were visible, now, but he tried not to let Talon linger on them. Instead, he reached out with his hand to massage the Synnekar's shoulder, smiling faintly as he looked to him.

"My companion," he greeted in a low voice, "I apologize that I did not come yesterday. These... days do not always allow me time. I am even more apologetic that I could not procure you the accommodations I wanted to -- my request was refused."

He frowned, lowering his gaze for a moment.

"Nevertheless, I am here. Are you well?"

[Talon]

He stood staring out the stained glass window that served as the biggest source of illumination within his prison. His wings swayed listlessly, as though he were dimly remembering what it was like to fly. The silver of the feathers seemed to draw the light to them. Indeed, every light that shone within the chapel sought Talon out. It ensured that so long as a single light was shining, he was never plunged completely into darkness. It was an aspect of himself that he could not dispel and it seemed, could not be suppressed. Not that he wanted to. If he was to be sequestered into the cold dark, he would at least draw what small comforts he could. It had been quiet for him, which was unusual. His days were usually filled with a meeting with either the Matchmaker or the Archbishop. Neither of them had come to see him in several days. It was a small cause for concern for him as he did not know what it meant.

The glass did not allow for visibility outside of it but he did not need it to. He had deduced that the powers that bound him only responded when he attempted to access either one of his runes of magic or a destructive act engineered to resist their machinations. The act of simply extending his awareness through his province of Light did not fall into those areas. For the moment, he could still see a little beyond the boundaries of his prison. Not by much, but it allowed him to at least feel as though he could see the sky and the warmth of sunlight upon his skin. It was one of the few things that kept him sane, bereft as he was of the warm, fiery presence that had once suffused his thoughts just as his suffused theirs.

He knew exactly when Asher set foot within the radius of his awareness. He could see the man clearly in his mind. While staring out the window, his awareness also watched as Asher withdrew his wings in order to conceal them. It was a curious thing to witness but it was certainly not the strangest thing he had ever witnessed. The sound of his boots falling upon the stones made him withdraw his extended awareness so that he could focus on the immediate world in front of him. He lifted his wing so that Asher could step up closer to him. He tensed slightly when he felt the air stir as Asher reached for him. He did not flinch away from the touch however.

“You need not apologize. It was to be expected. I have been shown few--” His words died as he saw Asher’s face. As the Kathar’s gaze lowered, Talon brought up a hand. He gently grasped the knight’s chin between his thumb and index finger and tipped Asher’s head up. The bruises were fresh. He had been in battle, experienced enough pain himself, to be able to recognize them as such. Gently, he turned Asher’s head from side to side. It was hard to focus but he did manage some measure of it. The powers he summoned were not to destroy, defy or invoke wrath. He allowed his anger to simmer just beneath the surface, just enough to allow him to peer into the surface of Asher’s soul and bear witness to the small injustice that lingered there. It was not immediately clear but he could sense that Asher held confusion and frustration. That was enough.

Very gently, Talon brushed a thumb over one of the worst of the bruises. Stirring the barest thread of his powers, he set right this small injustice. The bruise faded until it was gone as though it had never been. He did not reveal what it cost him for it cost him greatly as he felt pain lance through his skull. He merely squinted before lightly removing his hand.

“I can do little in my current state but I can do that much.” His jaw flexed. He wanted to ask. He wanted to know who was responsible but he recognized that Asher likely did not want to linger on it.

“Please, do not endanger yourself for me if it is avoidable. The Imperium does not yet view me as disposable.” He left it at that.

[Asher]

SEARING 23, 122

He was surprised. He had not been surprised by very much since meeting the towering, lonesome man -- he had, after all, known that he would be meeting some anomaly of the Imperial Mandate; a man or being of power and influence. He hadn't been surprised by the severity of his presence, or the depth of his anger or sorrow. He was surprised by the touch, though, and its immediacy. Before he could lift his eyes from his momentary lapse, Talon's hand was beneath his chin, forcing him to reveal his bruised features. In his eyes were anger, but also a deep sort of... concern. It was something he was so unfamiliar with that he barely knew how to register it, at least when directed at himself. He had seen that sort of concern before, of course. He'd seen it in the eyes of those who were left behind in the Imperium's wake -- mothers treating their children, burnt and bruised, wives and husbands watching as the soldiers returned, wanting to know whether or not their toll had been taken.

Never had he seen any sort of concern directed for him, and he'd sustained far worse wounds than the one he wore now. It actually made his chest feel tense, and his throat nearly became strained. He didn't let that feeling persist for long, and as it subsided, it was replaced by a sort of marvel as he felt his injuries lessen. Talon mended him, and that meant all the more. His companion was... kind. Asher was glad that he was, because it made the bruises feel almost worth it. That feeling of frustration and agitation faded; suddenly, he was glad that he asked what he did, even if he'd sustained a few stray knuckles to his cheeks.

"Pain means little to me, Talon. My failure means I experienced a few hours of displeasure. If I had succeeded, your life would have substantially improved. It was a risk worth taking."

He caught the man's hand as it fell from his cheek, tucking it against his chest as he stepped forward, closing their distance. Rather than some scripted motion to try and seduce the other man, Asher felt a passion thrive in him. He placed his other hand on the Synnekar's tricep, before bringing their foreheads together.

"I missed you," he admitted. "I know we do not know each other well, but this... experience, it is new to me. It is thrilling. I want to know it fully, so I won't miss another day. I would like to learn more of what it is like to feel this sort of... ah, ardor."

The man let out a warm breath, his left lip curling faintly at the edge.

"What were you going to say? You have been shown few... what? Kindnesses, mercies? If I had visited you yesterday, would that have been one of those? If so, I am flattered."

[Talon]

“Do you live such a joyless life?” The words were said with a tinge of sadness, even as his anger still simmered. Of course, he knew what his bondmate had told him of his life in the Imperium. He had shared pieces of his memories with him so that he might see the experiences that the other Avialae had been through. He had even seen proof of the struggles they faced when he had met the mighty Baudric. To be in the Imperium however, to see how things were up close and so raw, it finally settled just how bleak he viewed the existence of his Kathar brothers. Before becoming their prisoner, the life of his kinsmen was something he had only experienced secondhand. It was either spoken of with pain by his bondmate or something he read about in textbooks. In the far northlands of Karnor, the shadow of the Imperium had always felt distant.

He blinked in surprise as his hand was taken and pressed against Asher’s chest. As the man stepped closer into his immediate personal space, Talon felt himself grow only slightly stiffer. The hand that grasped his arm was not shrugged off. He did not move away from the press of brows. It reminded him so much of the very thing he would do to comfort the ones he cared for.

“It would have.” He did not lie. He was a kindness. One that the Imperium did not have to give. Asher’s presence, though he knew what it was for, was a pleasant change from the grim existence that had become his norm. Though the Bond with his husband was not severed, the perpetual silence from it left him lonely. For a man who had spent the entirety of his life accustomed to having the presence of others in his head, their thoughts, their emotions, their passions, it was a more crushing quiet than he would have liked to admit. This, coupled with the loss of his Bond with Rickter, Talon had to admit that he was lonely. Surrounded always by the eyes of his watchdogs, he still felt impossibly alone. The only break in that loneliness had been when Aoren had been returned to him for that brief moment.

“Your presence is a relief.” He lifted his free hand, sliding it up the length of Asher’s muscular arm until it came to rest at the base of his neck. He brushed his thumb along the smooth skin that he felt there.

“I will not hide it. You are...not what I expected.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I told you my lot in life, here in this stone cage. That you are counter to what I have lived through for months without end is a balm I have been convincing myself to take.”

Talon sighed and let some of the tension flow out of his body. Was this wrong? He had agreed to this. To keep Aoren safe. He knew what the reasons for this union were. Asher continued to show him that he was a man of honor. He was pleasing both in body and his behavior so far. Was it all an act? It could have been. Would that have changed his own current situation? No. It would not have and he could not deny his end of the agreement forever. So he let himself feel the warmth of Asher’s body. He let himself feel relax more into his touch. He looked into the knight’s eyes with uncertainty at first.

“Will you…” He hesitated. He was not sure how to ask. His mouth opened and closed but no words came out.

[Asher]

SEARING 23, 122

The man's question made him smile blithely, his shoulders shrugging for a moment. "I find my joy in my own ways, as do we all. I find it in the rise of the morning sun, in the breath of life that brings to the world that surrounds me; in accomplishment and pride in my skills, in that I am reprimanded far less than my kin. If that is joyless, I accept that." He was quickly finding another source of joy in Talon, but he felt anxious to admit that. He was not very good at affections, or how to express them, or what would seem off or too severe. He was learning.

Either way, he was a kindness and a mercy to the other man. Talon's admission of such returned that feeling in his chest. It was different this time, vaguely, but familiar. He hadn't felt it often before the last few moments, before being entangled in this man he was meant to perform a duty with. Talon's presence was a relief to him, too, and he was glad he would be allowed it throughout the night, even if it meant sharing a mat or sleeping on the cold, hard floor. That was something he'd done many times, in far less pleasant circumstances than this.

"I am glad I can bring some measure of... peace, even though your mind surely looms on these other things. I can't give you much in the way of counsel, but I am here if you wish to share your burdens. I--"

He stopped, breathing out with his own relief as the other man slid his hand from his arm to the base of his neck, brushing over his skin. He felt soothed; the tension in his body eased, and his lips opened wider to let out a pleased sigh. He'd never experienced touch that way. A cold fist, perhaps at best a hand upon his shoulder in brother-like commiseration, but only long ago. Never was anything close to this. Talon's was a lover's touch. Their eyes met.

Will you...

He did not know what the other man meant to ask, but he made his assumption, mostly because it was what he wanted himself. Asher leaned in, the bridges of their noses meeting, the hairs of their brows intermingled. He met the Synnekar's lips with a careful, soft kiss, but as his heart pounded he sought out more. He met the other man's tongue and wrestled with it, drawing it into his mouth before wrapping his arm around the small of Talon's back.

He let the kiss subside, and breathed out.

"Kiss you? Yes."

His chest still thrummed. He felt exhilarated, but it was so unlike the feeling of battle. It felt so much more pure, and even addictive. He felt a stirring, and so much more, his body tapping into a transformative version of who he was. A lover.

"If you would have me, I would stay the night with you. We needn't procreate if you do not wish to. I... have been permitted to stay, and I would like to. Is that alright?"

[Talon]

The kiss started out soft but quickly grew in intensity. Asher was hungry for more, for something deeper than a mere brush of lips. He could have said he was surprised by the way the Kathar reacted to both his touch and the act of kissing. By the knight’s own admission however, it seemed this was a rarity. Talon was hesitant at first but then he leaned into it. He followed the yearning in his body and in truth, his heart. Tongues met in the heat of the kiss and he did not remain an idle partner. He followed the signs of what seemed to cause the man across from him to hitch his breathing and to lean in for more. When the kiss subsided, Talon was left breathing more heavily. He let their foreheads rest together as his wings lowered, resting lightly upon the ground.

He just listened to Asher breathe for a moment, even after his question. He felt the steady beating of his heart beneath his hand. Reflexively he pressed his palm upon Asher’s chest so that he could truly feel it.

“Stay.” He brought Asher over to the humble mat that was his only reprieve from the hard stone beneath his feet. He seated himself fluidly upon the mat, the only sounds being the rustle of his wings as he fanned them out and the jingle of the chains that kept him bound to the cathedral. Talon opened his arms, welcoming Asher into his embrace. He did not know if this would lead to more. He knew that the Matchmaker wanted it to. He found himself more open to the idea. It was a start and he would take the small measure of peace it gave him.

“Come, lay your head in my lap.” It was something he did or rather, had done, for those lovers he cherished most. The only ones he had ever had. He found peace in being able to study the lines of their faces, to run his fingers through their hair and see the light in their eyes as they stared up at him.

[Asher]

SEARING 23, 122

He followed his companion... his lover, easily, his chest still steadily thrumming as wanton breaths departed his lips. His eyes were trained on the other man's, and he looked to him with an admiration free of doubt or judgment. Talon was someone he was learning to feel fonder of every moment, and he was glad at the thought of spending every night in his embrace. He wasn't certain he'd be allowed to, but he would ask, even if it meant more bruises.

The Kathar slid into the other's embrace, his arms smoothing over his obliques as the two of them settled nearer to the ground. He had never withdrawn from the idea of laying with the other man the way the Countess desired, but now he wanted to. He wanted to know what Talon was like in his most intimate moments -- Asher wanted to know what he was like, too. It left him breathless thinking about it, the imagery floating through his mind. It was vivid, and seared rose into his cheeks.

Asher did as he was asked, nodding his head and pulling back slightly, his palms meeting the ground before the Kathar turned onto his back, settling his head between Talon's broad thighs. He looked up at him, lips smoothing as a sense of tranquility slowly eased into him.

"I... am deeply fond of you, Talon," he whispered, laying both of his hands on his own chest, his abdomen still rising in an elevated rhythm. "A part of me was afraid of what this duty would entail, but... I do not feel that fear any longer. To be able to bring men that resemble you into this world is an honor."

Asher cracked a small smile, shutting his eyes, a respite. He moved one arm behind him to grip and squeeze Talon's upper leg, as he relaxed into his embrace.

[Talon]

As Asher settled in his lap, Talon began gently threading his fingers through the man’s hair. It was a soft motion and one that helped him think beyond the misery around him. He brought his wings closer, forming a loose embrace around them, framed by silver feathers. When Asher spoke, Talon closed his eyes and just breathed. He found the knight’s company pleasing. It was a refreshing presence after the crushing loneliness and pain he had suffered thus far. He did not know if he could quite say that aloud just yet. Instead he tacked onto a related subject.

“You were afraid?” He supposed that made sense. He did not know what the Kathar had been told about him. He could have been told a world of things or he could have been told nothing at all. Were circumstances not what they were, he would have been able to better gauge the man’s emotional state. As it stood, he was content to simply explore them as they arose.

“I…” He furrowed his brow. He considered fully what the act of their union would do. He did not want his children, no matter how broken or strange the circumstances that brought them into this world, to live the life of a Kathar. He knew fully now just how brutal such a life was. Would they survive the bloody trials into adulthood? Would they become the collared revered slaves that were used to enforce the Imperium’s tyranny upon the world? He did not fully know. The life of his children brought into the world this way, he had no say in the life they would lead. He doubted they would even afford him the opportunity to even know them.

“There is honor in you, Ser Knight.” Talon spoke softly. “But I fear for the life that our children would lead.”

He sighed, reaching up to run a hand through his own hair. It was much longer than it had been when he had first arrived. Though it was well kempt, it was much thicker.

“You must understand that I come from a culture where fathers are not strangers to their children. Does every Synnekar train and work toward becoming a warrior? Yes, unless they prove they are simply not suited to such a life. It is because we see that as our duty to the country we built around ourselves but once we have passed our trial into adulthood, our lives are our own. Warrior, scholar, farmer, it does not matter. We become our own men.” He brought his hand back down to rest upon Asher’s chest.

“It is hard for me, knowing that any children brought about by us will…they will not know us. That is not what I wanted.”

[Asher]

SEARING 23, 122

As he laid there, he found himself unable to avoid idling on Talon, wondering what he was thinking or immersing himself into those thoughts of his as they came. He was beneath his gaze, and within his grasp, unable to retreat into isolation. He felt frayed and vulnerable, in some ways; Asher was unaccustomed to this feeling like many of the other ones Talon had given him, but he tried to adapt. The topic at hand was a serious one, and it was worth being present for, and thoughtful with.

Even if he barely knew what to say, or how to scratch the surface. He needed to be careful with his words, and he could not make promises or assertions that would be unfulfillable. He didn't want to subvert the other man with lies.

"I know," the man let out, a sigh escaping his lips. "I know that you do not enjoy the thought that your sons may lead a life similar to mine. I do not blame you for feeling this way -- it is something you are unused to, and you do not see the value in a life like mine, collared as I am. These circumstances, though, are different. This... courting, it is atypical of how we normally interact with reproductive partners for the Imperium. You are an exception to the norm, because you are an exceptional man. I cannot be certain that our children will become simple Kathar, or that they will be lost to us, because I cannot be certain that the same rules as always will be followed."

That was his perspective, at least. He wondered whether they'd really throw children as valuable as Talon's into the same standards he'd been born into; that did not seem like the Imperium, to him. They would likely shepherd them in a different way, though Talon was likely onto something when he imagined they'd have minimal contact with their parents. Not unless circumstances quite significantly changed.

"I met my father a few times, but we were never close; we were never meant to be. He was like... a higher-ranking officer to me, one who might have had the impulse to act paternalistic, but who did not exercise it. He never really had the chance; our exposure was limited. I do not know whether I would maintain a similar... strained dynamic with our children, or if I'd be allowed to know them at all. It's difficult to peer into the future with a sense of certainty, or to speculate. I... all of that is to say--"

Asher sighed, as Talon's hand combed over his scalp, causing him to ease for a moment.

"The outcome of all of this is unpredictable. In time, as our... little Knights develop into beings of life, the circumstances will have changed from now until then, and again by the time they are fully created and born. If you are deeply concerned with being able to know them, then I would suggest for you to work to change those circumstances in a way that will bring you satisfaction. You are not completely powerless here, Talon. You are a scion of the Divines -- live that role as an emblem of pride, and you need not be treated as a prisoner. That is my advisement, at least." He couldn't be certain whether or not he was right or wrong, but he imagined that Talon was no bystander. Even if the weight above him was unbearable, he needn't be crushed.

[Talon]

“I am glad that you at least got to meet your father.” He considered Asher’s words. What would the life of his children in the Imperium be like? Did the Imperium want him to procreate simply to bolster their ranks or because they had something unique in mind? He was silent as he listened but eventually he chuckled.

“The only power I have here, Asher, is the power to choose whether to cooperate or to dissent.” He ran his hand through his hair again. He sighed, shaking his head.

“They wish for me to put on that armor.” He nodded his head toward a suit of armor made from an ebony black material. As the light passed over it, there was a slight sheen over the armor that gave it an almost glasslike veneer. Missing from the chest piece however, was a portion of the breastplate. The dark armor drew in the light as though it were hungry for it. He stared at the armor for a long moment before shaking himself from the thoughts that threatened to draw him in.

“If I don it…I will not be the man before you.” He did not know what he would become but he knew he would not be wholly himself. He resisted the urge to shudder. A vision of a black sky illuminated by an eclipsed sun that emanated a cold light had filled his mind when he had first beheld it. He spread his hands out and leaned forward, spreading his palms over the broad expanse of Asher’s powerful torso. He pressed his brow to Asher’s, bending over him so that they were covered by the shadow of his wings.

“Apologies. I do not mean to linger upon such dark thoughts. There is no easy path forward from here. There is only the path before us.” He sat back up, allowing his hands to glide over Asher’s form. It was pleasant to have another solid body against his own. It was an illusion of safety but one that he would indulge in.

“Thank you.” He threaded his fingers through Asher’s hair once more before cupping the man’s cheek. “For listening.”