Legend of Ransera

Aurin got up so he could watch him go from the doorway. A part of him wanted to watch his bare body shiver through the wintry air, but he figured it was best to keep things pleasant so, like a drug trip, he didn't take anything negative into the experience that he didn't have to. His senses were flooded with aether, the better to help him gauge the transition, but neither of them was truly attuned to some of the stirrings in the yard. Perhaps if Torin had a Dratori or a summoner over, they might comment on how the spirits of this place paid attention even in their Frost dreaming, aware that the sleeper had awakened, that the mortal master of this place would soon be able to sense them.

When they were back on the hearth, he paid keen attention to Torin and what he said and presented. The boy was so often deserving of praise, and Aurin tried to give it to him. He ate it up like a starving man, which was gratifying, but also hurt the heart he pretended not to have.

"It means a lot to me," he managed around a knot in his throat, managing to meet Torin's gaze, "that my desire to protect you is reciprocated."

He let Torin help him put them on. They felt good on his wrists, like security, and he figured there was no time like the present to let his body heat mold them to his body. Then, in order to make Torin's eyes prickle as well, he put distilled spirits upon a bit of gauze and pressed it to the wound. The sting was care, and when he examined the smith's delicate wound, he found it well done and drying on its own.

Aurin stood up and offered Torin a hand up.

"Let's go lie in bed. I want you warm and comfortable, and your mind will want to dream, the better to think through all the new things you're going to sense."

Desire still rolled off of him, and he suspected Torin would sense it soon if he didn't already. He tried to tamp it down, but vulnerability in his boy turned him on. He wanted to claim it like a jealous god, but also prove that Torin was right to trust him with it. But it would be better to wait until he came out of his threshold sickness.

When Torin touched the scar through his shirt, he reached out to touch his face.

"You give me a reason to survive, boy," he growled, and left it at that. He laughed softly at the mention of mittens and candy, and again as Torin marveled at how the aetheric body expanded beyond the physical. At least, he had heard mages call it the aetheric body and so that was how he thought of it. "You're bigger than you are, too."

In the bedroom, he was surprised a bit by Torin's answering lust, and it eroded his decision to be good.

"Get on the bed," he said, giving Torin a nudge. Then he stripped down to his skin. If they had to keep Torin quarantined from the world until his soul aligned with its new Rune, at least they could enjoy a bit of intimacy. He climbed up onto the bed and made love to Torin. It wasn't the first time, but the burly boy was so eager for extremes that it was rare. But Aurin had walked too many people out of bad trips, and knew that the calm and the joy would be reassuring whereas some of his more piquant pleasures might not be so well received in this heightened, altered state.

He whispered honest things. They came quite close together, and he was careful to clean up after them. He took care of everything, and he took care of Torin. Soon enough, they were sprawled out on the bed, Torin resting his wheat-haired head upon his chest. Aurin felt good. It was the afterglow, but it was also the connection; it was the joy he could give to Torin and it was the sense that this would all turn out all right in the end, and the smith would have another tool to make him better at his craft, another skill to help him gather information and keep himself safe.

In the moment, everything was good and everything was right.

Lazing about in the afterglow, he felt a bit as though he had gotten away with something naughty. But this was a nice, relaxed space to be in while the soul took to its new shape, he supposed, and he was glad that Torin felt so safe in his presence. He pressed his lips to Torin's temple tenderly, said, "Perhaps someday I'll take a blade and carve my name into you..."

It was sweet and threatening both.

As for the rest, he was too relaxed to think his answer through. He tried not to lie to Torin unless it was necessary, but he was a past master at omitting certain details to make things run more smoothly. But not today, not now.

"Well, I did give Arry the illusionist trick," he admitted blithely. "To my mind, it'll be good if he has to disappear from danger, but I'm sure he'll want to use it to glitter more brightly on stage. Little attention whore..." He chuckled and let his the back of his head rest against the headboard. His eyes ran along the posters of the bed where some of Torin's little additions were artfully hidden. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though he would need to be restrained to get through this threshold sickness. If anything, he just seemed a bit dazed, trying to focus on new sensations from new senses, which seemed a lot gentler than what Aurin remembered from the fever dream of his past.

"It was different, I suppose, but similar enough. He made it through unscathed, and so will you."

For as keen a judge of character and reaction as Aurin could be, sometimes he was an idiot. Today was one of those idiot days. For all his preparations, he had just blundered and didn't realize it yet.

"Two weeks ago," he answered, confused. "To help him with his careers... Torin..."

Of course, the sex had relaxed him enough that he wasn't on top of his game, but alarm shot through his veins and burned away the pleasant hum. He twisted toward his lover, taking one of his hands in his own to reassure him. He knew that Arry had been unkind to Torin, but had endeavored to keep them separate so as not to cause either of them undue discomfort. He hadn't seen Torin react like this since... ever.

"Torin. My boy. It's me. I'm here. Everything's fine. You need to calm down."

He leaned in to kiss him, to share his warmth and his scent, things that tended to calm Torin down after they had had their fun of an evening. The threshold sickness for Masquerade was worse than Semblance from what he had gathered, though they had been inextricably intertwined for him. Arry's peace of mind had been paramount as he began hallucinating, whereas Torin's mind was only coping with more sensations than he was used to processing

Aurin began to second-guess himself. Had the sex been some sort of triggering event, exciting the blood too much when his mind was undergoing changes along with his soul? The fox-faced man had never claimed to be a mage, but initiating Arry had been an easy success; he wasn't prepared for this. But he would fake it until he made it, continuing to touch Torin, to speak to him, to try to keep him grounded in the here and now and the safety he normally felt in Aurin's presence.

Everything had been going so well.

"Talk to me. Tell me what's bothering you." They were orders of a sort, but his voice was gentler than usual.

"All right," he said, processing that. Not knowing was valid. "All right. It's all right. I'm here."

When Torin curled up and leaned in, Aurin knew what to do. His arms came around the smith and held him tight. Some might have called it too tight, but Torin always seemed to like that sort of constriction from him, as if he felt contained, controlled, and comforted. Aurin murmured soothing things, barely words, mostly just offering the sound of his voice. He didn't know what to make of the vague accusation, but he could certainly follow up once Torin was on the other side of his threshold sickness.

"He isn't here," he assured Torin. "It's just you and me tonight, and I've got you. I'll keep you safe."

It was a sort of a lie, a sort of a truth; safety was an illusion, but he would make it as real as he possibly could. He might not have ever articulated it, but he knew that Torin was someone he would die for; but then, so was Arry. This put him in a strange situation.

"Let it out," he urged. "Let it go."

He wondered if it might not have been wiser to have Timon stay. The lad could have run errands so Aurin needn't quit Torin's presence. But he didn't want Timon to worry either; he was better off with the nobles who treated him better than his own family could. It was just Aurin and Torin, and they were going to get through this.