[FINISHED]One of the best known original m/m romances in Russia, loved by many. It won the Russian Wattys 2015 Award, now it's available in English too.
Alva Ahayrre is a Creedan nobleman and a courtier, a beautiful and frivolous redhead...
It was a sunny morning, Alva and Ithildin sat at the table in Leitis's house checking over their weapons and munitions. In addition to the sword, the elf brought from the Great Forest a longbow. He had turned out to be a superb shot. Now he was busy re-stringing the bow.
Alva heard a door slam behind him, and, at that very moment, Ithildin jumped up, dropping a chair, and blanched. Taut as a string, fists clenched, he faced the newcomer. Before Alva even turned, he knew who was standing at the door.
"What do you want here?" asked Alva dryly. "This is the house of Lady-colonel Lysander, and I do not recall her issuing you an invitation."
Kintaro grinned and moved into the room. In his moccasins, he treaded softly, like a giant cat. At the sight of him, Alva felt a chill down his spine, and his instincts screamed that he was in the presence of danger. That gleam in Kintaro's eyes, his wild animal grace, lent the chieftain a threatening air. Unobtrusively, Alva pulled closer the sword lying on the table.
"Not very friendly, are you, northerner? I just wanted to say hello to an old friend," the Essanti mocked him.
"It will be better if you leave," said Alva.
"Don't be scared, I won't hurt you. Or your little elf doll." He turned to Ithildin and looked him over, head to toe, making him back away. "I see that serving you has done him good. Now he looks way better than before."
"Ithildin is not my servant," snapped Alva.
"Yes, slipped my mind what you call it up in the civilized North. We, Essanti, say "a f**k-toy." Now Kintaro taunted them outright.
Red spots flared up in Alva's cheeks. He took a deep breath, trying to control a surge of anger. He could not permit the Essanti to start a squabble. Chevalier Ahayrre knew Kintaro would have the upper hand. In a hand-to-hand, the chieftain would thrash the two them like a pair of kittens, with his strength, speed and combat skill.
"Kintaro, please leave," said Alva again, levelly.
"So you are not even going to be hospitable, and offer me to pass the time with your slave?" Kintaro took a few steps towards Ithildin. The elf had lowered his eyelashes, and betrayed no feeling, but his fingers clenched the edge of the table so hard, they had gone white.
"What's the big deal with him anyway, northerner? He does not mind who f**ks him. He is just a slut, and you are number two thousand to lie with him."
"If you don't shut your vile mouth right now ..." growled Alva, grabbing his sword. He was consumed with fury, upper hand be damned.
"I have screwed him before, he never told you? Nothing special, just a tight ass and a sweet little mouth," and with those words, Kintaro ran a finger down Ithildin's cheek.
With a short angry cry, Ithildin snatched a dagger and brought it to Kintaro's throat.
"Ithildin, no!" cried Alva.
His fury was gone in a flash. He could imagine only too well what would happen if an elf murdered an Essanti chief.
Kintaro was still smiling, as if having an angry elf hold a dagger to his throat was a daily occurrence.
"So is he worth it, northerner?" He was looking at Chevalier Ahayrre, eyebrow cocked. "Is he worth turning me down? This slave, had by one and all, this cold-blooded Ancient?"
"Quiet, or I'll have your tongue!" hissed Ithildin.
Alva had never suspected that the calm, level-headed elf was capable of the overwhelming hatred now blazing in his eyes. He seemed possessed. When Alva noticed how Ithildin's hand with a dagger was shaking, he knew he had to intervene.
"So how much longer do I keep insulting your elf toy, before he decides he is man enough to cut my throat?" Kintaro jeered.
Alva threw away the sword, and pleaded with Ithildin, hands outstretched. "Ithildin, if you kill him, they will execute you. I won't live without you. For me, for our love, please let him go?"
"You think killing me is that easy?" Having said that, Kintaro, quick as a snake, grabbed the elf's wrist and twisted it.
It was a matter of seconds: the dagger hitting the floor, Ithildin's cry filled with pain, and then Kintaro was holding the elf across the chest, the elf's arms twisted behind his back.
Ithildin was shaking, his face was even whiter than before, and terror filled his eyes, as if he expected to be raped right here, right now.
"You did not answer me. Is he really that good?" Still looking at Alva, Kintaro slowly drew a hand across the elf's chest, and thrust out his hips. "Maybe I should brush up?" He rubbed his cheek on Ithildin's hair, touched his lips to the elf's temple, defying Alva openly.
The elf closed his eyes. He was still standing, but ready to collapse at any moment.
"Is your sweet elf doll worth turning down an Essanti chief?"
"You would not understand, even if I bothered to explain," said Alva quietly. "If you could understand what love is, you'd never ask this kind of question."
"Love makes one do strange things," said Kintaro, his voice suddenly void of scorn. "I could cross over to the Enqins tomorrow. The North would lose the very first battle, and you'd become my slave."
Not waiting for Alva's response, he pushed Ithildin at him, and left.
"Who's the tall, dark and rude stranger, brother? He nearly knocked me over at the door. My own house, too!" Leitis burst into the room. "Good God, what happened here?"
"That w-was the Essanti chief," said Alva, so riled he stuttered. "Think I was just treated to a jealous scene, W-wild Steppe style." He hugged Ithildin who was still shaking and sat him in his lap.
Lei looked at them for some time, frowning. Then she poured a goblet of wine and shoved it into Alva's hands, simultaneously kissing his cheek and patting Ithildin's shoulder.
"I think you both need a drink and to be left alone."
~~~
"Forgive me. It was as if darkness had engulfed me. I did not know what I was doing."
"Stop apologizing, my love, don't."
"It's all true. Every single thing he said."
"I don't care what he said. Don't think about it. Forget."
"The elves never forget. I ... I remember everyone who has ever touched me, lay with me, their smell, their voices, everything. But it's only him I hate."
"Stop it, Diné ..."
"No, you have to know. He could have killed me, but he didn't, he kept me alive, so that I ... so that his men would use me. He was ... the first one ... and then ... more times ... I hate him. Even to save my life ... never ... not with him ... he'll never touch me again."
"My love ... I am selfish, but I am glad you lived. If we had not met, I would be miserable my entire life, and never know why. Tell me, how can I help you. I can't stand to see you cry. How can I dry your tears?"
"Kiss me. Yes ... Lielle ..."
Ithildin, fanart by Nathan Tsade
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