Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

9.8

When the last pearls in the hourglass poured into the lower chamber, Dame Tallian received them in her throne room again.

"Are you ready to give your answer?" she asked in a bored voice. Her tense posture, though, betrayed her vivid interest in the outcome.

"Before we gave our answer, my lady Tallian, we would like to be given some assurances," Ithildin said with a graceful bow. "Or else the test would be a farce."

She waited with imperious looks what he would say next.

He continued, "I don't want to question your word, my lady, but allow me to remind you that in Chevalier Ahayrre's case you'd had the prudence of using the Ring of Truth. So let me ask you to put on the Ring of Truth and swear that the real Chevalier Ahayrre is in this room, and once we point him out, you'll remove every spell you cast on him and deliver him at any place he chooses, with any person he chooses."

"Nothing for you?" she sneered. "No guarantees of safety for you and your barbarian? I am surprised. You could be very disappointed once you've made your choice."

"We don't need anything for ourselves," the elf answered firmly. "And we won't choose. The choice is for Alva to make, we just want to see him make it freely."

The sorceress frowned. The elf's offer didn't enthuse her. She could refuse, but then she would have found herself at the same dead-end she tried to drive her guests in. There ought to be at least a semblance of fair play to invoke at least a semblance of goodwill. And without goodwill Alva was of no great value to her. That was what Ithildin had been playing at.

After some deliberation Dame Tallian ordered Khattal to bring the ring. She put it resolutely on her finger and swore everything the elf suggested, to the word.

"You do know what you're doing?" Kintaro asked quietly.

"If I am wrong, you can wring my neck," Ithildin whispered.

He came to Dame Tallian throne and, before anyone could predict what he was about to do, gave Khattal a scalding slap on the face.

The guilt in the Arislani eyes was the final confirmation. The real Khattal would have yelled, "What's that for, you pale-haired bastard?" But he didn't. He was ready to receive his punishment.

"That's for the year you've spent without us. This..." Ithildin slapped Khattal's other cheek, "for the week we didn't know who you are. And this..." the elf cut himself short and gave him a deep, greedy kiss on the mouth. "If this is not Chevalier Ahayrre, we don't need anyone else," he said when he was able to catch his breath again.

The sorceress clapped her hands, and...

Ithildin found himself looking into Alva's emerald eyes, and holding him, and Alva's red hair, plaited into a hundred plaits, spilled over his shoulders, and there was a smile on his lips, Khattal's arrogant, joyful smile.

"You knew, you've guessed, Heavens be praised!" And, as was the old habit of his, Alva almost fainted, but Kintaro caught him.

"What does ana bahabek mean?" he growled in a low voice which could be considered menacing by anyone else. But they knew that tone of voice all too well.

"'I love you', dumbass! It means 'I love you'! Haven't you learned anything in Arislan?" Alva yelled, and they gripped each other in a bone-splintering bear hug.

They forgot everything for a few moments, even the sorceress. Alva was the first to remember her. He disengaged from his lovers, came to her and kissed her hand. The gesture wasn't full of adoration or deference, it was just a parting, casual kiss.

"I thank you for being my teacher, wish you personal happiness and hope to never see you again. Now, if you'd be so kind, send us three to Selkhir, before the ring thinks you don't want to fulfil your promise."

"You will regret stopping your magical studies!" she said in a lifeless voice.

Chevalier Alva Ahayrre shrugged his shoulders and said light-heartedly, "No more than my father regretted going to Irshawan."