Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Sat Dec 14, 2019 10:11 pm**

6th of Frost, Year 119
Eikaeus

That night - after their time together at the Stone Crown - the two of them lingered for a while upon the edge of the stone balcony crafted by the exterior of the cave. They let the chilled air dance between them, though even with the Beacon's warmth Taelian found the touch of frost upon his wet skin to be disarming at times. He made sure to dry himself not long after rising from the springs, and after a little while longer of talking, Riven offered to take him home. He accepted, and towards his wooden hovel they zipped across the night sky. It was exhilarating, and terrifying, and something he wished to do again. And he did - once more, at least, two nights after.

The third, fourth and fifth had all been spent with the near constant frequency of proximity. The two men were within feet of each other for what felt like all but moments of each day, though in reality they often separated to perform their tasks and duties. One thing he liked was that a lot of Riven's time was spent out in the field, independently; this allowed Taelian to tag along if he wished, and the same went for him with his own profession. Unfortunately, the Ebon Knight found no prey for them to hunt together, though he wasn't sure if Riven really wanted to fight a Dranoch by his side. He hadn't, perhaps, made it clear enough just what he was doing.

They talked a lot, and stayed silent a lot. Most of the time, when they spoke, it was about random things of little importance. Hobbies, stories of old things that no longer mattered. Taelian talked a little about Aldrin and the Black Remedy, and he even told the man the unbelievable tale of his hunt for Lady Glairen, a story that he still felt would be remembered in the books... if the Black Remedy won. Riven told him some about his profession, the things he was researching. Taelian feigned interest in most things, though they resonated with near perfect symmetry when it came to their interest in the people around them and how the world continued to transpire.

One thing he was glad to know was that the other had also traveled through Daravin at one point, though they spoke little on it aside from the surface. Considering it was the Elven homeland, Taelian felt strongly over it -- very much so. But he did not know how to word his feelings with any solid rationale. Most of his thoughts, if truly expressed, would sound more like racially charged rants demeaning humans; he supposed he still had the ignorance of his people at heart. Though as his eyes opened, these things began to change.

They trained together for a time, sparring with blades a ways away from the city. They continued to chatter about after they did, and occasionally kiss and with a variance of passion and duration. They were distracted often, though the helping hand generally made up for it.

On the night of the fifth, as they prepared to part ways with their traditional evening kiss goodnight, Taelian posed that they meet the following evening for a date, without seeing one another from 'now' until 'then'. His reasoning was his desire to make their relationship - which they both appeared to understand it as, now - more publicly open, rather than sticking to the backwoods and hilltops and occasionally the tatami mats of Taelian's humble abode.

He wanted them to be seen together. He wanted it to be known: that Riven and he meant something. It was a juvenile wish, conjured by youthful images of what seemed normal and right, but the other man did not seem to explicitly mind the idea. They agreed to meet, and the two of them together determined a place: one suitable for a first true date, a hole-in-the-wall inn known as the Gemling's Grin. It was an odd name, and one could only expect a gaudily decorated brothel in envisioning it. As Taelian had seen before, however, it was a charming place with an attractively foreign red-brick exterior and an interior of dark brown leather, mahogany wood and exceptional drinks.

The two of them set a time. Twenty hours in the evening, once the sun had long since set. Taelian prepared himself for the date, getting together the best outfit he possibly could, though he only borrowed it from another Siltori who had been stationed as a liaison of the Remedy. The outfit included a loose, silk-like white shirt that bore open much of his chest down to his lower abdomen, parted at the collar. It was short sleeve but he wore a silvery, somewhat shimmering jacket over it, quilted with the same sleek material. His pants were simple grey slacks with loafers at his feet, no socks or long pantaloons concealing his ankles. Taelian looked fairly industrial in appearance -- like a man from Lorien would. It wasn't intentional, but he found his outfit attractive, and to top it all off he carefully combed back his silver-blond hair to display some level of sophistication.

His ivory eyes, reflecting in the mirror, ran all over his body. He felt... confident. Really.

The Siltori moved throughout the city, though the inn wasn't very far from his home. It wasn't an incredibly classy establishment, and mostly served as a hub for foreigners who were not used to Kalzasi's uniquely distinctive culture, preferring the spirits and familiarity of home. Taelian was among those people, and once he came upon the inn he smiled faintly as the comforts of old already smoothed through his nostrils; their scent. The food, the drinks, even the charcoal scent of the fire. It was nice.

He waited for Riven to arrive. The Knight would've complained of the man's lateness, but in truth it was just that Taelian was very early. He was so excited to see him, he could wait no more.

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 12:24 pm**

Riven sat naked in his washing room, staring at himself in the mirror. His otherself was staring back; he was all wet, his hair squashed by the water and falling on his forehead. He got lost in the blue in his eyes; they were as bright as could be, flickering and rotating and swirling in a fast storm; he was clearly excited... And a tad anxious. How could he not be? The last three days had been a hell of a ride; the second he was free he was spending it with Taelian, bringing him along in some expeditions, sharing their stories... And kissing. There had been lots of kissing... And his heart still raced whenever one was coming. In the best way, though. However... Last night had been different. Riven had been fine with their little forest getaways, but the moment they were back and Riven was dropping him at his hovel... the Silver Elf had suggested a date. A proper one; the couple kind of date, dressing up and going to a nice inn to enjoy themselves, maybe have a drink... make themselves more public; show the city they were together.

Riven had been cornered; an issue weighed in his mind. Talon; they usually talked about everything... but he hadn't said anything to him because he feared that his companion would drift apart. His feelings were way too confusing to be paid attention to. It wasn't a legitimate reason to refuse though, after the days he had spent with Taelian: he felt strongly for him, and a part of him really wanted to be able to go and have fun with him. His first date. He was scared; Taelian mentioned a that it was a chance for them to clean up... And the elf had seen Riven in boots, loose pants and different shirts and jumpers consistently. He didn't know if he had something good enough to wear... Until he remembered a traditional garment Talon had gifted him; a three layered winter black kimono that matched his wings' color and luster. He had even ironed it before getting in his washroom, and it was waiting for him on his bed. It was his best... and only option.

He had completely spaced out, sitting on the small stool he kept there; at least he had already washed his wings completely, and they had their characteristic blue shine... But he looked like a wet dog. Focusing on the water around him, he let the Aether flow through his Rune of Elementalism, trying to connect with all the small water particles still on his body and wings, and pulled them to flow all across his skin to the palm of his left hand, forming a mass of water than he then dropped on the drainpipe. A quick gust of wind to style his hair a tad upwards, and he was dry and ready for his suit. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it seemed; he first put on both the white and the black undershirt and shirt respectively, both sleeveless and closing just in the middle of his chest; that was a personal choice. He adjusted the piece of fabric that went between the wings and let it flow down; he then pulled the wide pants on. Finally, the black jacket, tied by the sash that pulled everyting together, respecting the shirts' opening and this time covering his arms up to just a bit over his forearms. He checked himself out in the mirror; he was looking good. He didn't even bother to shave; he sported a great mid-length beard. Tabi and geta on his feet; short ones though. Adding even more height wasn't a good idea.

And then he checked the watch; he was roughly on time! He quickly grabbed a small bag with money and keys in them and secured it to his sash, then got out of his house. He checked his wings' mobility; everything was fine, so he just took off and glided all the way down to the commons, his wings shining like a cobalt star under the moonlight. He eventually spotted Taelian under the sign of the small inn; he looked like a Rien noble with his open shirt (he hadn't been the only one playing the chest card, it seemed), that amazing jacket and form-fitting grey slacks. He swore he could see his ass from the heights. Usually, the fashion choice would have bothered him, but he looked... stunning. He landed in front of him with a smile.

"Sorry... I'm a minute late, I think." He said, scratching the back of his head, the haori sleeve sliding down to show an impressive arm. "You look stunning, though. I didn't think you could get anything like that in Kalzasi..." He mentioned with a half smile, a tad awkwardly. It was clearly their first date.

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 1:45 pm**

He could not hide, even beneath the moonlit sky, the small blush that framed his lower cheeks, wrapped within the near-transparent facial patterns across his skin. As his beloved descended from higher elevation, his geta meeting the floor with a loud clack of their heels, Taelian looked to him with utter admiration. The openness of his outfit paid credence to the muscular colossus that was his form; his open chest peering through the folds of the fabric, which were colored black. They somehow directed Taelian's eyes to the skin intermixed with them, and the shape of Riven's body beneath their concealment.

His lover, the gallant Kathar before him, looked incredibly handsome. If Taelian did not... well, love him, he may have been jealous of him. Winged and elegant, yet teeming with masculine ferocity. His eyes drew in Taelian's ivory gaze as they always did, and Taelian leaped forward to plant a firm kiss upon his lips. "You look great, too. I love the color; the fabric. It looks so expensive... who made this for you?" he asked. It had to be custom tailored, he thought. Taelian still hadn't seen a man as tall as Riven in the city -- at least in the commons, where the proles were -- so finding anything that suited him must have been immensely difficult.

"This old thing?" he queried, puffing out his jacket to embellish his look, and to draw attention to his exposed chest. "I'm kidding. It's... a simple garb; it's actually something one of my comrades brought from Silfanore. Siltori fashion is simple, elegant and industrious, with exposed skin where you can justify it; Silfanore is very hot, after all."

It wasn't even his outfit, but he cherished it. It was something from home -- one of the nice things that lasted, and since coming here it had been cleaned thoroughly of all of the toxic waste and mutative grime. "So... uh," he started again, his eyes shifting between Riven and the building awkwardly. "Do you... want to go inside?"

Once receiving the affirmative, the Siltori would nod and take Riven's hand, guiding him into the establishment. Inside, it was warm with candles lit among the tables, torches on the corners of the room, and a large hearth not far from the tavern maid - or bar wench - serving the patrons their spirits and food. The tables were carved with a smooth, high quality wood and polished well, with seats of similar make scattered around each of the tables, save for the ones reserved for wealthy clientele in the back corner. Those tables were still wooden, but nearly ebony in color, with burgundy colored leather seats pressed firmly along the board enclosing each tabled group from the rest of the establishment. Around the wench was a rectangular bar with stools lined across its length, nearly half of them already filled. There were a decent number of people present, and many of them appeared rather well-to-do.

They wore industrial clothing, mostly, far more urban and modern in design than his own. Based on the colors and styles, it appeared the patrons were a mixture of people from the Gelerian Imperium, Lorien and Zaichaer, as well as envoys from the Daravinic Entente. This was a place largely reserved for the cultural elite of the outside world, a place of seclusion from the uncomfortably distinctive norms of the city surrounding it. It was more than just the aesthetic, taste and style that separated it, however; in many ways this place was like that inn. A place of higher level discussion, of politics and trade and the dealings of wealth. It was difficult for a dreg-rat like Taelian to normally belong here, but with Riven present he felt less at odds. And besides, he fit in well with his current look; the bearings of the wealthy were at least worn by him in disguise, and the spirits here weren't much more expensive than anywhere else.

It was just that the common Kalzasi street-goer had no reason to be in a place like this.

"Would you like a seat on one of the tables, or on the bar?" a young man asked him. Taelian simply pointed to a table in the corner of the room, suited for four guests. The establishment was never quite so full that fussing over table sizes really mattered. Even on Eikaen.

They were guided towards the table, and upon arriving the Siltori took a seat upon the row. Normally with any other person present, he would've sat across from his companion so that their eyes could consistently meet as they talked, but he patted the seat alongside him, beckoning the other man to keep close. The two of them were always, physically, inseparable when they were together and he found no reason to move from that trend. He liked being near him. Nearer, if at all possible.

"How was your day?" he asked. A simple first question. "I missed you. I started talking to another Knight, today, and I told him about you -- then I couldn't stop thinking. About everything. I'm starting to think it might be strange how much I've grown to like you, and I..."

Taelian realized that - maybe - it wasn't right to go that far. He didn't want to scare the other man, who he noticed appeared nervous about their togetherness more than him. It wasn't incredibly brazen, but the small things added together. Riven appeared confident at first glance, but something always worried him when they were together. He could see it.

"You know, Riven, I've never done this before. I've never kissed anyone; I've never held a man like this. Never wanted, or longed for, another soul. Never wanted to be together. I know I'm a Siltori so I could be a hundred years old for all you know, but I'm only twenty-four. I haven't had any experience; this is my first time. But... it's been great. I can't even believe how great it's been," he whispered, shaking his head. Thinking back on their recent days together, he began to smile.

He'd forgotten his reservations from only a few seconds ago, about going too far. He wanted to know how Riven felt -- what he wanted. What all of this meant. It constantly ground on his thoughts.

"I love you, Riven," he confessed. Taelian felt his heart fall into his chest, but only for a moment. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and continued on. "I want this to be a real relationship. I want to be... your man. And I want you to be mine. Not in the way you disregarded before; I don't want to be owned. I just want to put a word to it. Lover, partner, companion, even paramour. That's why I asked you out, today, to this place. I'm sorry," he whispered, lowering his gaze.

"It's a lot. I know."

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 6:09 pm**

Riven smiled as Taelian approached him; he leaned down a bit to kiss his lips softly, holding his waist until they pulled out, letting the elf step back to take a good look. "The color? It's just black! It... It was actually a gift. I needed something for special occasions... And I guess this is one" He said, smiling softly... But it was also a tad scary. It was a special occasion. He smiled as Taelian displayed his outfit; the exposed line of his chest was a tempting display of his beautiful body, his chest protruding and forming a small triangle with the lower peak the shirt made. "Showoff." he teased, smirking; he had all the right to though. "You should keep it; I bet you wear it much better than he does" He said, winking at Taelian. He had no doubt; the Siltori was rocking it.

"Sure." He said, following Taelian inside. The place was impressive; expensive-looking tables matched with similar seats iluminated by candlelight, torches in the walls and a large heart that filled the space with warm light; a bar in the front where a few clients drank different spirits. It wasn't too crowded, but not empty either; there were several well-dressed men and women... All of them looking rather foreign. Mostly humans, a few elves and a couple beastfolk. All of them dressed like they belonged in that sort of establishment... But not in Kalzasi. They were mostly foreigners; some even Rien, with a strong version of Riven's watered-down accent... He tried to relax though. There was no way they knew him. He breathed; neither him nor Taelian belonged there... But they wanted a nice date, and that was what they were getting. The people were the smallest of his troubles.

He followed Taelian to their table; he half smiled when the elf patted the seat next to him, so he obeyed and planted a quick kiss in his lips, their arms rubbing each other as they got comfortable.

"Uh, pretty good! I actually..." He started saying, but Taelian interrupted him; he seemed nervous and he was going downhill with words, seemingly unable to stop; he definitely had something to say. Riven gulped; he wasn't expecting that... At least not that soon! But he could have been mistaken... He listened. He tried to look supportive and confident, and chill... But a part of him was everything but that.

At least he was just two years older than him; he wasn't wrong. He let out some air... But Taelian wasn't stopping. It was the most heartfelt confession Riven had ever gotten from him; his heart pounded in his chest, full of love for Taelian... But things were going too fast and too hard, and too great... And he didn't know how long they were going to last, and on top of that...Talon. He suddenly couldn't breathe; he felt the anxiety brewing up and his mask of a smile starting to crack.

And then Taelian said it, and his heart pounced like an exploding volcano. "I love you, Riven" Part of him wanted to shout out to the world that he loved that man; but the words barely came to his mind when he summoned them. He felt dizzy; Taelian wanted to be his... Someting. It was overwhelming. Even if he completely reciprocated his feelings. He wished he was as brave as the elf, but apparently, he wasn't. He cursed his own weakness, and pushed through... as much as he could.

"I--I love you too, Taelian... But I... I just don't know what to say. It's a lot, really." He said, putting on the best smile he could. He was being honest... But not transparent. And it pained him and his nerves were wrecking him bad. "I think I need... I mean, I want a drink. Should I get you something too? Beer? Mead? Wine? Liquor?" He asked, the elf nodding at wine as he wasn't given space to talk. He immediately got up with a nod and a forced smile; "My treat!". He couldn't stay closer and look at Taelian in the face at that moment; he knew he was fucking up. He knew it'd hurt Taelian, and he felt like shit about it. But he would do that; go to the bar, wait for their drinks, and get some extra courage into his system to avoid ruining the night... more than he had.

He rushed to the bar, a few large strides until he was basically ambushing the barmaid to get him a jar of strong mead and a glass of wine for Taelian. Fortunately, it took a while. He breathed in, held it, and breathed out. He had to relax; he couldn't freak out like that. Taelian was just being passionate... But not absurd; they had been seeing each other on a daily basis. And Riven loved the idea. It was just... He was terribly scared. Of everything that could go wrong. With no reason; he was just freaking out and spiraling... and that made him feel even worse.

He blessed the maid for bringing in his order; a few coins to pay, and he gulped down a decent amount of his huge jar (the maid had seen his size and had filled his drink generously apparently) and he strode down to their table, sitting next to Taelian again. He had everything under control... more or less; he handed the glass to the Siltori and gave him a light kiss, grinning softly. At least that was natural.

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 6:39 pm**

I love you too, Taelian, but I just don't know what to say.

He stared quietly - with emptiness in his expression - and reserved a long sigh, instead stammering his breath by shutting his lips, before nervously beginning to bite on them. Riven slipped that he needed, no, wanted a drink. Taelian understood. He needed to get away -- to have a moment. Maybe even to escape. It was strange, Riven admitted to loving him in return, yet all he could focus on in the moment was the negative of everything. The man's fleeting bravery, and of course his own reckless abandon. He felt, ostensibly, like shit. For putting forward such a dangerous proposition; for allowing himself not only to feel so strongly, but to not keep it contained. They had only known one another for four days now, and though they spent their time with one another constantly and with ever-increasing passions, he supposed a word really meant that much.

He had always hated people for that reason. Taelian hadn't even flinched when he said that he loved him, or overtly changed his tone, or made a scene of it. It was only a word. A description of a feeling that he was carrying. But it wasn't just that word. It was the request for a titling of their relationship; perhaps making it into a true 'relationship' after all. He supposed, then, that he was fretting over a word too. And that only made him feel worse.

"Wine."

He responded flatly. Taelian could tell that the other man had gone from enthusiastic to, mentally, near-apocalyptic in the extension of seconds. Mere moments between Taelian's query and now were all that it took for him to utterly lose his nerve. He thought things had been going a lot better than that. Taelian thought that after the time they shared, maybe the other man would--

Breathe.

Riven had already gone.

He was losing himself to the moment. Allowing these things to control his emotions; to let the Sigil guide him into the depths. Taelian did not want to become that man. He had been resisting, so utterly, for the whole of the week. The moments he felt those familiar and grim emotions, he held them back. With thoughts of what could be -- with Riven, with the two of them. Somehow this one instance of what was not even truly rejection had broken those barricades, and now all he felt was pure cynicism.

He wanted to tell the other man about himself tonight. That he was Famished. Now, there was no way. It started to physically pain him to even think about admitting to it, especially when he was being compelled by that aspect of himself right as they spoke. He did not want to present instability to the other. And if he did, he did not want it to appear as an intrinsic part of himself. This could only be, to Riven, a fleeting moment of his, Taelian's rare occurrence of imperfection.

Taelian forced himself to smile as the other man returned. He looked at him with fondness - genuine - but then an untouchable confidence, wholly deceptive.

The kiss was nice, at least. It cooled his nerves.

"Let's not talk about it, then," he said. He felt a stir. It was disturbing to him -- he could feel his expression visibly changing the moment he spoke, as if speaking diluted his ability to properly guide his thoughts. He was plunged back into the spiral, and profusely, he frowned. He frowned to the very edges of his lips, disparaged.

"I thought we had gotten on pretty well. No -- it was more than a matter of opinion. So I question your hesitation over a matter so simple, and I don't understand. I can't... think of a reason--"

He shook his head, breathing out again. Attempting to regulate the ebb and flow.

"Sorry. I said that we shouldn't talk about it. I'm sorry."

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 9:29 pm**

The situation was... not ideal. Riven could feel the tension his quick escape had created, and now he didn't know what to do. He could tell he'd disappointed the elf the minute he opened his mouth. Even the way he'd asked for his drink had been flat, emotionless. It reminded him of the Taelian he met in the glade. The cutting one, that didn't care about his feelings enough to even mind his words. And his expression... the moment Riven had gotten back to the table, he looked rather off. He was smiling, but it was fake; Riven had seen Taelian's smile before, and it was bright, playful, flashing those marvelous dimples of his. That mask on his face conveyed nothing; Riven couldn't read it, and it worried him even more. They sat in silence for some time, Riven taking another chug of his mead. It kinda burned his throat... which was a good distraction from the awful situation he had gotten themselves in.

"Let's not talk about this then." Taelian had a special talent to make things uncomfortable. And the look on his face... it broke his heart. He wished he could have gone back in time and just tell Taelian how he felt, but he just couldn't. He fucked up. He took another swig. He wasn't a good drinker, he knew that. But he needed the alcohol. To feel a bit better, to tell Taelian all the things he wanted to say. It was the most coward option, but also the only one. He didn't want to talk about it; he wanted to. He knew it was the right thing to do. But Taelian was giving him the excuse to reming silent, and he was taking it...

...or so he thought. The elf's frown slowly melted into an expression of guilt, of blame, of desperation, wondering why something he had just taken for granted, something so obvious to him... just didn't translate into Riven's heart. He wasnt' directly blaming him, but Riven felt it, and he wasn't strong enough to take it. Alcohol would be, though. He drank again. And all of a sudden, that huge jar was empty. It was going to hit him soon, and it wasn't going to be light. He was a big guy, but not a drinker. Taelian's worlds lingered in his mind; he blamed Riven; he couldn't think of any possible reason for Riven not to say anything... and then he stopped. They shouldn't talk about it.

They wouldn't then. Riven sat in silence, feeling guilty, powerless, cowardly... weak. Taelian had given him what he wanted; they were not going to talk about it. Then why was he so bothered? Why couldn't he enjoy himself, give his... whatever he was a kiss, even look into his eyes without feeling the elf's deep disappointment? It was his own fault; he had been a terrible lover and... Gods. Now he was going to lose Taelian. Just like that. He felt dizzy; the alcohol was starting to kick in. He could see it clearly. He was a major jerk; an idiot who had lost his opportunity by lying and treating his man badly...

But Taelian was to blame too. Why had he said that! Things would have been much easier if they had just enjoyed their date, have a drink, kiss until their mouths were dry and they needed to gasp for air. But that wasn't the case; the damned Siltori had had to open his mouth and force that huge torrent of feelings on him; things that he didn't know if he could say back because he was so damn terrified and Taelian couldn't see it. And now they were there, less than an hour into their night and they had spent most of their date silent. And on top of that he needed a name for something that had happened literally three days ago and that would explode in Riven's dumb face! It was actually exploding right now, so there was the proof; he had been right all along.

He couldn't take it anymore; he was enraged. At himself, but he had managed to put the blame on Taelian as well; he just couldn't face the fact that he had ruined them. He slammed his fist on the table as he turned to Taelian, jaw clenched and protruding, eyes glowing brightly, the fire inside flowing in fast, chaotic ways. "No! Let's talk about this! About how I'm being an awful guy who apparently has forgotten about everything we've done and refuses to put a tag on himself to prove to some selfish ass that he actually loves him and has a need to prove it to the world! But no, Taelian, you could not wait, and now that I've fucked things up you're just going to stare at me like that and feel sorry? For who, for me? You're lucky I was too fucking scared to say anything, now you won't even have to dump me!" He had raised his voice; in fact, he had completely lost his temper and his mind, and the mead was messing with his head. He was talking like a madman. He didn't feel most of those things; he couldn't blame Taelian... Hell, he hadn't yelled at anyone like that ever. The whole bar watched for a second.

He realized all the hurtful things he had said; it was too late to pull back though. He looked at the empty jar between his hands. He wished he had never grabbed it. He wasn't a good drinker. And apparently not a good lover either. Tears of rage and fear of having messed up welled up in his eyes. He looked down, blinking to dry them... and then he looked at Taelian again. Gods, he was so sorry.

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 10:26 pm**

It almost felt good to see the other man so angry. Was that wrong?

It would've been, for a normal person. Especially with someone they liked -- and certainly, with someone they loved. But it wasn't that Taelian liked to see Riven so furiously enraged, and above all he did not enjoy knowing that he was in pain. Instead... it was something else, something gravitational, as the Siltori's emotions appeared to orbit around the other man's. He had noticed that since before they kissed, since even before their touch was placed into escalating tiers of intimacy. Riven had an effect on him that no others did - Taelian... could empathize with him.

And so, even in this moment of fury, somehow Riven's risen heart beat, inflamed eyes and wroth-filled, scorning look enticed him. He was, in a way, vicariously alive. He could feel whole for the moment, fully blend into his emotions without any of the flatness or - more likely - disruptions of the Sigil, dividing his soul into the flexible shards of a mural.

He waited. He waited for him to finish. As he listened, he allowed his heart to sing wholly into every word, and he felt that he understood it. He knew what Riven was angry about; before, Taelian was certain he would've never been able to empathize enough to know. But he did know... he could tell. Only with him, he could tell. He was angry at his own weakness, his hesitation and fragility. And more than that; deeper things that went beyond Taelian, who - perhaps - he truly loved.

The Ebon Knight couldn't know for sure. Each moment he snapped back into reality only to face the rotten gaze of a very angry man. The other patrons were staring at him, and the bar wench had even called upon the young man to beseech Riven to cease his yelling or leave their establishment. He ignored them, and continued to yell.

That part was painful. The yelling. More than the words themselves, the fact that the man he loved could feel such anger towards him and express it with such ferocity and rage, it did pain him. In a way that also felt unrealistic; in a way he hadn't known, perhaps, in all of his life. This feeling of irrevocable sorrow at the thought of hurting one who most depended on him, the thought that they might feel they're being left behind. And the risk of being lost, himself, without the charming and gallant man who smiled him into the world every morning.

Because the truth was, Taelian wasn't anybody without him. When he was alone, and no longer embellished by the very presence of his most beloved winged man, he felt again like he was Famished... and it was empty. But with Riven -- everything had awoken for him. All of the desires he thought he could never have; a seeking of the dreams he felt he did not deserve. Again, Riven awoke him every morning. Until coming into Taelian's ivory-colored view, his world was draped in an overbearing, opaque black fog.

Riven's eyes began to well up. Taelian only continued to blankly stare, as if he were in space.

And then it all came, all at once.

"I would never leave you," the man softly whispered. Tears filled his eyes, all too quickly, and they poured. His heart... his lungs, they felt like they had all expanded or were being grabbed; he couldn't speak. And if he tried, it would sound so vile. He began to sob.

He hadn't felt this since then. Since before the Sigil. This overwhelming need to have everything he felt known, yet the inability to make himself clear. He wanted Riven to know what he felt, that he loved him, but his throat was clogged from the sobbing that would not cease.

"I don't want you yelling at me," Taelian barely managed. "It hurts. I'm sorry." He sobbed. "Please take me home," the Siltori begged. "Please take me home."

Posted: **Sun Dec 15, 2019 11:32 pm**

Riven was crushed. He had never yelled at anyone like that before. All of his frustration, his fear and his disappointment at himself had crystallized into a stupid, paranoid burst of anger... and he had let it rain and burn on Taelian. Taelian, who had loved him almost from the first moment, who had only said good things about him after their rocky start, who had confessed him his love and just wanted to make sure they actually were together, for good. He didn't deserve all of that. And still, it pained Riven how unbothered he seemed, how blankly he had stared at him as he kept saying such hurtful things. He was worried; had the Siltori really stopped feeling for him after his blunder?

But then Taelian's face morphed... Twisted into a face full of pain and indefension, and tears started to roll down his eyes. He was sobbing; Riven could tell he was hurting, and that fixed the issue... If it weren't for the fact that he was to blame for it. "I would never leave you". Riven felt awful; that was the thing he said that had worried Taelian the most, his stupid fears projected on the elf. He wanted to fix it, comfort him... But he didn't know how to approach Taelian after his attack. The elf looked choked up; he seemed like he was trying to say something... but he just couldn't get the words to pour out of his mouth.

He finally managed to say something... And it broke Riven's heart. "It hurts. I'm sorry. Please take me home." All between sobs. He didn't look like the proud hunter he knew; he was a normal hurt boy that just wanted all of that to stop, and that Riven could relate to. He hugged him tight; he pulled his head against his open chest, hoping the warmth would calm him down. He ran a hand through his pale hair, trying to make him feel he wouldn't hurt him anymore. "I'm so sorry, Taelian. I let my fears get the best of me and ended up hurting you. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I love you so much, I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry." Even if he said it a thousand times, it wouldn't be enough. "I'll never do it again. I'll never yell again. I didn't mean anything of that. I love you, Taelian. I'm sorry I didn't realize before."

He pulled back a bit to let them both get up, pulling Taelian up from his seat and into his arms again. He hated seing those tears keep rolling, feeling his soft convulsions as he cried on his chest. "Let's go home, Taelian. I'll take you home. I--I just don't want you to hurt anymore." He whispered in his ear; tears welled up in Riven's eyes, but he smiled dimly at the Siltori as he ended the hug again. They needed to walk now. "We'll be there in no time, we'll see." He leaned down and kissed his forehead, and then put an arm around his shoulders as they got out of the inn. They walked through the cold streets of the Commons to Taelian's front door; Riven quickly grabbed the keys from one of Taelian's pockets and opened the door, inviting him in.

"I'm sorry for messing up our date. I really wanted to have fun... But I got overwhelmed by what you said, because I wasn't ready. It was all my fault... and I blamed it on you. I'm so sorry, Taelian. I won't forgive myself for doing that to you... But I hope you can forgive me. I'll... I'll just go back home. I'm sorry for ruining our night. I hope you sleep well." He said. He was about to go... But he couldn't avoid hugging the elf for the last time before turning around and starting to walk away. He didn't feel like flying anyway.

Posted: **Mon Dec 16, 2019 7:36 am**

If there was one thing that could calm him now, it was the surface of the very skin and flesh he had been plunged into. That sturdy, infallible bulwark — the strong chest of his beloved, who spoke to him with a symphony of sorrows ranging from the admission of wrongdoing to... something more than that.

I love you so much, he confessed. This time, he meant it. Strongly. There was no shred of doubt — Taelian knew. Their love was shared. Riven was more than eager to take him home, though the Siltori worried that it was out of grief. He didn’t want the other man to hurt either. He wanted both of them to be happy, and thought that he could make them that way. Perhaps, he thought at first, that the date was a mistake. Now… he didn’t know. It was something. It was filled with passion; amour and rage, though of the two of them it ended in love after all.

Because that was what they felt for one another. Rather than just hearing it, it took the moments after the words to help him really understand wjat Riven’s love for him would really change. It took him the sorrow and winnowing fear, but also the moments after their mutual tears where things were most clear.

Though he could never know, yet, not wholly — he felt an undeniable thought as he looked up to Riven while they walked home, hand in hand and arm over his shoulder, the man occasionally kissing him. All of this despite their argument.

This man — he was going to be the love of his life. Even if they could not stay together forever, even if one outlived the other, Taelian was certain that he would never want to wander too far without the other man at his side, and that he would always think of him amidst their distance.

He prayed. To Lachrann, to Wraedan, to nothing. That they stayed together as long as they could; that they learned to love each other without fear, and that the two of them never needed to wade into their terrors alone. Maybe Riven didn’t see what he did, but to Taelian it was crystal clear. No one could ever matter to him as much as this man, who made him feel like he only ever hoped he could feel. The man who made his life worth living, so shrouded in anguish before his arrival.

“You didn’t ruin my night,” he whispered softly, though his lower lids were still damp with the touch of tears. “But I want you to stay.” To stay — with him. “To be here tonight. Just to lay with me. Please.”

He did not feel so sad anymore. This wasn’t about forgiveness, or mending his pain. He wanted Riven to remain because he loved him, and because he needed him. He wanted him to be here not just tonight, but many nights after… perhaps all of them if he could. He now knew what the word love really meant, and with such intense ferocity, he wanted to show it in the coming days. The coming years.

Posted: **Mon Dec 16, 2019 7:24 pm**

Taelian had been silent their whole way home. He did not blame the elf; Riven had been extremely hurtful and unfair to him, and he had fully fallen apart on him, looking terribly lost and vulnerable, and shocked. The Avialae wished he could turn back time... but if Velar really had that power, the Dragon God surely wouldn't be listening to Riven after a whole life of ignoring his kind. He seemed kind of gone, lost in thought; irresponsive even when Riven grabbed his key straight from his pants to open that door. He was worried; was he going to stay like that for long? In pain, lost, betrayed... He couldn't really know until Taelian told him himself. He sighed; after the last hug, he walked away, crushed.

“You didn’t ruin my night". Taelian's soft voice made him stop and face him; his tan complexion was still woven with sorrow, but it seemed like it was subsiding already. Hesitantly, he stepped forward, wondering if he should go back to his lover. "I want you to stay." He kept walking back to that front door; of course he would. How could he not? There was nothing he could have wanted more; to hold Taelian in his arms, heal the pain he had caused. Spend the night with him, to love him. To protect him. To ensure that his happiness would return and that they could mend the small rift the made. It wasn't a perfect relationship, but it was more than what perfection could offer to both of them. "Of course, Taelian. I'll stay with you all night. I won't leave until I make sure you're better, until I've fixed the mess I've made. I can promise that." He said, giving him a soft, warm kiss over his ashen hair, embracing him tight, letting him know he was there. "Let's go in."

They both walked in, hand in hand, and Riven let Taelian undress while he pulled out the futon and layed it on the floor, also grabbing the necessary sheets and blankets for them to sleep. Taelian had already placed his outfit in his small wardrobe and stood fully naked, staring at Riven getting everything ready; he wasn't looking so gloomy anymore. Riven blushed a bit when he noticed him, but just half smiled, his grin widening when he saw the Siltori's lip corner bend slightly upwards. Riven was done; he beckoned Taelian to get in bed while he took off his Tabi, then removing his sash and took out his kimono piece by piece; first the jacket, then the shirt, and finally the black undershirt, all pieces of silk just slipping down on the floor. He would pick them up in the morning; he just wanted to get in bed and hug Taelian until he fell asleep. With a quick move, he bent his broad back downwards to take off his undergarments and just slipped in the futon with the waiting elf. Of course, it was too small for Riven, but he'd make do. He had slept in much worse places many times... But never in such good company. He was touching his love skin to skin; he smiled warmly as Taelian turned around and kissed him, their lips locked for a brief moment as their tongues shyly explored each other; both a forgiving and apologetic kiss. He embraced Taelian as he turned around again; Riven's wings dropped on the tatami floor as they both lied on their right side, Riven's upper right biceps now seemingly Taelian's pillow, while his left arm embraced the elf's chest, holding his hand. He kissed his hair once more, whispering "Goodnight, Taelian" to his ear as they both closed their eyes, just partially covered by the blankets.

Legend of Ransera

Another Night

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