Late for Work [Sivan]

[Torin Kilvin]

2nd Ash, 121

Torin lay in his bed, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of the elf who slept again his shoulder. It was late and he was supposed to be asleep, had been asleep until about half an hour before.

Sivan was warm and soft in his sleep, all his limbs heavy and still. Mostly still, he twitched occasionally, dreaming. The movements the smith's lover made in his sleep were different now than they had been when first they had shared a bed. The change had been abrupt and Torin could only imagine it had something to do with the new rune that now nestled between Sivan's shoulder blades. Perhaps he dreamed as a Wolf now. It was something to ask later, perhaps.

He had found out about the new rune only the day after it had been unexpectedly given. As unexpectedly to the one who received it as to Torin himself, which was why he'd found out so early.

It had started as a work day like any other, as Searing had been leaning toward its end but wasn't ready to give up its hold on the weather yet. Torin had began his work after breakfast, a little disappointed that Sivan, who had several concoctions working away in the Alchemical lab upstairs hadn't joined him and Timon for the first meal. The elf had a lot going on now, Torin knew, between the lessons he was giving to several students and the unexpected awakening of the Fae’ethalan who had been sleeping beneath the tree in his garden, so it was of no concern. At least, not until he had looked up from his work on the cuff he and Aurin had been working on to protect him from Mesmer manipulation to discover it was nearly noon and he still hadn't seen or heard from his friend.

Stepping away from the forges he poked his head into the shop to ask Timon if he had heard anything from the elf. The apprentice had shaken his head, a look of worry now blooming on his normally pleasant features as he took seemed to realize that Sivan should have been there.

"Should I run go find out what's up?" He asked, almost all trace of his once pervasive lisp now missing from his speech.

Torin shook his head, "No, I won't be needed for a few hours and I'd rather have you manning the shop."

It was a compliment; acknowledging that sales went more smoothly when Timon handled them himself, and the younger boy took it as such, nodding with a smiling and returning to the book he'd been reading.

The smith stopped in the house to give himself a quick wash, put on a shirt and don his light Searing coat. The trip didn't take long, between Torin's long legs and knowing all the short cuts between their two homes. When he arrived he didn't see any light coming from inside, so, maybe Sivan was out, but it felt so unnatural of him not to show up for work without even sending word, so Torin knocked on the door.

When no answer was forthcoming he took out the key he'd been given and opened the front door.

"Sivan? Are you home? It's Torin, I just wanted to make sure everything is alright."

[Sivan]

The tower was devoid of Sivan, but not of life. The spirits came, curious as ever, to examine Torin. Many of them recognized him and flirted with his hair, his skin, and loose bits of clothing. Anticipating that he came for their master, they whirled away and out the door into the garden, where Sivan lay sprawled upon the moss. Exael was manifest, a floating statue of gold and alabaster, chin on his fist as he regarded his aidolon.

Good morrow, Torin Runesmith, it said without looking up. He sleeps. Yesterday, he was given a new Rune, a surprising turn of events. There is a balance to it, though. He could always speak to the Wild, then summon the Wild, and now he has become one with the Wild.

He reached out, pulling up Sivan's shirt so the Rune picked out between his shoulder blades was visible; he knew Torin liked Runes and glyphs and such, and Sivan had given his body over to his friend quite a bit and wouldn't mind the reveal.

The gift of Aedrin. He communed with the Wolf and it gave him its form to borrow. But he is exhausted and out of danger.

The bees were droning, the spirits playing, some even flickering through the moon gate into Laurevere's yard, which had bloomed under Sivan's care. Nobody seemed worried, though Exael at least might have thought to let Torin know that Sivan would be asleep or unconscious for a while. But then, he didn't always think in mortal terms. The Coraegi of Wisdom was still learning mortal terms. The squealmouse peeked over and through the vague crown-shaped flare of bone—or whatever he was made of—to peer at Torin. He always shared food. He was a good human person.

[Torin Kilvin]

When his entrance was greeted by the Spirits of the house alone, the smith's worry for his friend deepened. The Spirits did not seem distressed as they had after the break in, nor even the way they sometimes were when Sivan was out of sorts or gone for periods more prolonged than a day. That was hopeful, but not fully. If something had befallen the elf on his way to Torin's home, or if something had happened that the little sprites did not understand to be dangerous...

Thankfully his worry was not given long to build, for a cursory exploration revealed Exael in Sivan's, physically present, floating just above the ground. Sivan himself was upon the soft moss of the garden floor, and Torin stepped closer, though not close enough to get between the aidolon pair.

The words took a moment to process, and he blinked at them. A new rune? Unexpectedly given? That seemed strange, considering the deep consideration most mages took before gifting their gifts to others. It was dangerous to receive a rune, Torin knew that as well as any.

"Hello, Exael." He returned the greeting carefully, trying to examine Sivan without touching him, for the moment. The rune was Animus, he'd memorized the general shape of each, for several reasons, and though each one was unique to the one who made it, with study and Semblance, they could be distinguished.

"Oh." He said, trying to remember what he'd read about receiving the shape-shifters rune. The one who took it was supposed to transform immediately, traumatically, and then there was a fight...sort of, between the animal nature and the sentient one until one came out as master. If the animal did, the person was gone, or trapped, it wasn't wholly clear, but they would never regain their original form. Sivan being there in his own skin was reassuring that he was not lost, and Exael said he was out of danger.

Kneeling beside the elf Torin looked to make sure his closeness was not upsetting the Spirit before gently brushing the elf's hair from his face.

"Will he be asleep a long time?" He had slept a lot during and after receiving Semblance, and if Sivan was going to be out that long Torin intended to see that he was hydrated and bathed and such.

[Sivan]

When Torin ignored him, the squealmouse leapt onto Exael's lowest part and scampered up his body, unimpressed by the Coraegi's impressive form. Instead of answering his question, the spirit turned his attention to his aidolon and stretched out his hand, one finger extended. From the Rune of Animus, it traced golden skin with an alabaster talon, tugging the waist of his pants down until it touched the Rune of Summoning near the base of his spine. Exael concentrated; between that and Torin's loving touch, Sivan began to stir.

Exael stood and turned toward the door, leaving the friends to speak as it went inside with the chittering squealmouse to speak to Sivan's student.

Don't overtax him, please, Runesmith.

"Torin," Sivan greeted quietly, smiling and reaching up to touch his face. It might have been a trick of the light, or his eyes might have been a shade paler, his canine teeth a bit sharper. He tried to pull Torin down into his arms, onto the moss as if it were his bed.

His skin was cooler than it ought to be in the balmy heat his sprites maintained, and his grasp was weaker than it ought to be, but the first wasn't so stark that one ought to worry, nor the latter so stark that one might imagine he couldn't be stronger if the need arose. He was weary, languid, his soul integrating the spirit of Wolf into itself, his body recovering from the violence of its first transformation, which hadn't been pretty or painless. Once the spirits were integrated, though, it promised to be a smoother transition.

"Kiss me?" he requested. When Torin didn't immediately oblige him, his tone shifted slightly: lower, stronger, more authoritative. He wasn't angry, but he wasn't asking. "Kiss me."

[Torin Kilvin]

When the Celestial began to slide Sivan's lower garment down Torin almost spoke to stop him, to explain that he did not need to see all of the elf's body to believe that he would be alright. Exael had odd notions of what physical beings needed, sometimes, but, in this case, that did not end up being the case, so he sat quietly until his friend began to show signs of waking.

Why the spirit left, taking the little squealmouse with him, the smith did not know. It was not as if he needed, or could really even have, privacy with Sivan where Exael was concerned, but he did not question it. As odd as the physical plane seemed to be to the aidolon, Torin knew that the realms of spirit had been even more foreign to him. He only nodded at the admonishment, he had no intention of getting physically active with the weary elf, though, considering his actions when enduring his own threshold sickness he considered it a fair warning...

"Sivan." He answered when his name was called, reaching to take his lover's other hand in his own and hold it firmly but gently. "I'm here."

Opening himself consciously to his single rune he assessed Sivan to the best of his ability. While his strength with the rune seemed to have come to him almost all at once his skill with interpreting what it told him was still something he was learning but he had a lot of practice trying to understand Sivan. There was certainly something new, even beyond the searingly bright, raw seeming runic 'scar' between his friend's shoulders. Something sharp like Frost winds blowing through fur, like the scent of salty blood carried on the air, like moonlight bright enough to pierce.

Torin let the information filter through his subconscious and come out to him as knowledge in emotion. He could not have said what he felt, but he felt the wildness new to Sivan and embraced it as he did the rest of the elf.

Feeling that the skin he held was colder than he should have been he went easily when pulled, a back part of his mind hoping Exael would not think he was immediately trying to disobey. He flushed in worry about the aidolon's judgement but nothing short of force would have stopped him from giving Sivan what he asked for. Rolling so he was a little above, but not resting his weight on, the elf the kiss was gentle, a chaste press, for a moment. Then, when he felt the want of him pouring through his rune he opened, moaning softly more at the feel of the emotion than the feel of their mouths, but some for that too. The hunger tasted good.

Aurin was hungry for him sometimes but it seemed that only happened when Torin was hungry for it first and begged or otherwise ignited the redhead's passion. That felt good too, knowing he could do so and, now that he had Semblance, the old fear that the man was only pretending for his sake was long dead and buried.

He knew that Sivan wanted him, in different ways, often, as he wanted Sivan, but this feeling was new and it carried the scents of the wildness he had sensed moments before. It felt, a little, like his equal wanted to eat him and, ignoring anything like logic, he knew he wanted it.

[Sivan]

A new part of him scented submission of sorts, and it excited primal parts of him that he had only just become aware of. But he was also exhausted, and now that Torin was here, he just wanted to be warm. Khal hastened to help, but Sivan wanted the comfort of a body beside him. He sighed.

"Exael says I've been out here all night and some of the day... I'm sorry I missed work and worried you. I should have told him to go to you, that I would be safe here. If you want... if you could help me walk inside, take me to bed and hold me until I'm warm." He paused. "Then you can go back to work if you need to. My aura says I'm healthy; it's just dim. I need rest." He didn't want to be a bother, and he was a little embarrassed to be so out of it, so unprepared.

His eyes cut to the moon gate, and then to the door. Flower was napping in Laurevere's yard. Rivin was in the cellar with Exael. The cottage had grown into a tower, and Laurevere shared much of the property with him, and suddenly it was possible to have many people here, not all of them interacting, though now Sivan could sense Laurevere even when the elf was behind closed doors. The spirits didn't fully understand the idea of privacy, and they kept him apprised of what was going on in the environs of his sanctuary, and his Rune of Semblance was always active now. Sometimes it took effort to pull in its full scope.

Laurevere was concerned, but trusted the Coraegi to oversee his aidolon. But Sivan put one arm around Torin's shoulders, the other pushing against the ground to ease himself up.

[Torin Kilvin]

Torin had no idea that his scent was being sampled and found suggestive, he was just happy to be close to his friend and that all was well both with Sivan and between them. When the elf made his request, sounding tired and maybe a little in pain Torin got himself so he was standing on one leg and taking a knee on the other. Once Sivan's arm was around his neck he scooped the elf up fully into his arms and stood with what seemed like little effort.

The man in the smith's arms was neither short nor small but he did seem weak at that moment and carrying him was the highest level of helping someone to go somewhere, right?

If the move was protested he would immediately set his friend gently on his own feet and support him in a lesser fashion but, if not, he would tuck the elf close to his chest and walk the little way into the house and to the bed they sometimes shared.

Once they were inside he pulled back the covers and saw that Sivan was under them before removing his cloak, boots and coat. Once thus bare he glanced down at the bedding-clad, but otherwise naked body below before shedding all but his small clothes and joining his lover. They wiggled about a bit, finding where they were comfortable, where their forms fit together best.

The assertion of health was born out by Torin's own rune, which said that, aside from exhaustion and the new magic swirling through Sivan's aura, the man was as healthy as normal. Though there was a smear of something that seemed like it would evolve into a gnawing hunger as soon as the weariness wore away.

"I have to go back this afternoon, I left some things that need tending, but I'll come back tonight, bring some dinner. If that's alright?" He angled his neck downward to try and see the face currently nestled on his chest.

[Sivan]

Sivan wasn't the sort of elf to depend on anyone else, but Torin wasn't anyone else, and it felt strangely comforting to be hoisted up and carried bodily inside. The smith always carried a bit of the warmth of the forge about his person, but he was more of a banked hearth fire than anything else. Had the to his bed been long, he might have dozed against him. Perxy blew the door open so Torin could navigate more easily, and while there were voices below and Torin could certainly sense his student and his aidolon, Sivan identified them.

"Just Exael and Rivin."

He nuzzled into Torin's neck like a wolf pup, even nipping a bit, though only with his lips. Murmuring apologies for cold hands and feet once Torin was under the covers with him, he conformed himself to his lover's body. Perhaps if they grew comfortable enough, Torin would fall asleep, and then he wouldn't leave. But, of course, Sivan wouldn't stop him from going back to his work when the need arose. If he grew cold, Khal would warm his bedding, or he could invite Rivin up for a nap.

"Of course that's all right," he assured him, looking up and cupping his cheek, smiling wearily before nuzzling closer into his warmth and letting his hand wander.

Sivan would ask after the projects they had going on between them, though he was like to fade back into slumber, perchance to dream of running prey down and making a meal of them. And if Rivin did join him for a nap and Laurevere did check up on him and then Torin came back for supper, perhaps Sivan wouldn't have to be entertaining while entertaining so many guests in his growing home.

[Rivin]

R E V I E W

Lore: 8 each

Points: 10 each, Sivan may use for Animus

Injuries/Ailments: Exhaustion due to Threshold Sickness

Loot: None

Notes: