Nymphaea

Chapter 32: Solace, longing and lessons

Of course Ayve did not let on to his weakened state on their journey back. And he was such a good actor that Stephen could absolutely not tell how severe Ayve’s problems were.

At first glance, their passionate night and the conversation after did not seem to have any after effect. Ayve had been as monosyllabic as before the rest of their stay. But there were changes. Ayve was more responsive in his gestures and facial expressions. He was warmer. And he was the one who initiated the exchange of caresses each night before they went to sleep. It was peculiar though that he never went beyond a certain point. They kissed longingly, they touched each other in ways that sent shivers down their spines, they played with each other’s hair, they pressed their bodies as close together as possible but Ayve never sought the actual sexual intercourse.

And thinking back: it had always been Stephen who had asked Ayve to do it. On their first real night (not counting in Dresden), Ayve had clearly wanted to be close to Stephen, had complimented him, had admitted to have jelly legs (that memory still evoked a warm feeling in Stephen’s belly)… -but Stephen had been the one who had eagerly opened Ayve’s trousers, the one to take him to the climax and ask to be fucked afterwards. Ayve had even enquired whether this wasn’t a bit fast, whether Stephen really wanted it.

Looking back, Stephen thought Ayve had clearly not anticipated it. Ayve had always attached importance to other things. Kisses, mutual breakfast, massages, preparing baths for Stephen, just spending time together. He had even told Stephen that he considered the act itself to be humiliating, at least for the partner who… well, had to present his bottom. Ayve couldn’t deny that he genuinely enjoyed being in Stephen. But he never asked for it. And he always made sure Stephen was alright. Even after their one-night-stand in the summer, Ayve had looked after him, ordered breakfast, had fetched Lissy and so on. Stephen had always thought of Ayve as the perfect gentleman. But perhaps there was more behind it.

Hadn’t Ayve hinted something in Shanghai? Not this month but when he’d accidentally ran into him on his exhibition tour with Paul? Stephen supposed Ayve had been on his way to or from his people back then. But during their encounter in the tea house Ayve had said something about being not so nice that had had something to do with sex… Stephen combed through his mind. No, he couldn’t remember the wording. But Ayve had clearly referred to the act of penetrating someone else as being degrading for the other person and that he supposed he wasn’t a very nice person when he did that. Was that it? Did he feel as if he was exploiting the other by fucking him? That would explain why he waited to be asked for it. This way it wouldn’t feel as selfish.

Selfish! Stephen mentally shook his head. Ayve might be difficult to handle sometimes but he surely wasn’t selfish. Although he had banned those tales to the back of his mind, the stories about Ayve having his finger in the pie concerning the deaths (respectively disappearance) of two men flashed shortly in front of Stephen’s inner eye. No, it couldn’t be true. Apart from the fact that Ayve had sworn he hadn’t harmed anybody, those stories just weren’t compatible with the Ayve Stephen had gotten to know. It made no sense.

Perhaps Stephen would at least get to know more about that other story and what was behind it. This strange myth. If it was anything to go by, the first part of it was clear now: it had reported that a tribe of the Picts had defeated another unknown tribe in the Scottish Highlands. That could have been Ayve’s tribe. The ring of Ayve’s father had been part of the loot. But what had happened afterwards? If that story was true, how had Ayve come by his heirloom?

The first thing they did when they reached Shanghai was visit an apothecary to buy essential oils. When they entered the hotel room, Ayve immediately disappeared in the bathroom to prepare a vapour-bath to inhale them.

After about half an hour – Stephen had ordered tea, something for dinner and fruits meanwhile – Ayve reappeared, rubbing his hair dry because he had used the opportunity to shower afterwards. He slumped down into the next armchair with a smile directed at Stephen and grabbed a few grapes.

After ordering dinner, Stephen had called Lissy (it was midday in Great Britain), chatted a little with her and told her they’d be back in a few days. He’d bought something for her on the market in Doqin on their way back, as well as something for Anne as little ‘thank you’ for looking after his daughter.

Stephen had also contemplated how to use his new knowledge about Ayve’s behavioural patterns. Would it lead to anything if he stopped to initiate sexual intercourse? Would Ayve feel forced to act himself then? Somehow he doubted that. Ayve had – from what he’d told – spent so many years without it; it was apparent that he was in full control of his need. In better words: in full denial. Perhaps it was better to talk about it once more, set straight goals about what should be changed. A small voice in the back of Stephen’s mind proposed to address the question why their role allocation in bed was this fixed as well.

But Stephen intended to wait with that until they had finished discussing Ayve’s past. Ayve had promised to continue letting Stephen in on all the details after they had been to his tribe. That would be now.

“How do you feel?” Stephen asked to make sure he wouldn’t push Ayve into anything if he wasn’t alright.

It’s better, Ayve replied calmly. I just need a warm room and a bit time to relax.

“Are you up to continuing or…”

Ayve smiled, aware of what Stephen meant. Let’s eat first.

An hour later they had withdrawn to the bed together. But instead of taking up his story, Ayve embraced Stephen and kissed him tenderly. His lips felt so soft. And despite revealing his weaknesses, Ayve still provided Stephen with a feeling of security as he gently cupped the back of his head.

Stephen had taken off his clothes since he’d thought they’d talk until they fell asleep and now enjoyed the touch of Ayve’s hand on his skin, gliding over his back to his still pants-covered bottom. His member sprung to life soon. He let his hand travel over Ayve’s chest that was bare beneath the bathrobe, teasing his nipples, while nearly devouring the man’s lips.

Surprisingly, he felt Ayve’s hand move beneath his pants, lightly squeezing his behind and then enveloping his growing hardness. Stephen moaned openly as Ayve started stroking it and thrust his head back so Ayve could lick and suck on his throat. Only after a few minutes did Stephen fumble to undo the cotton belt of Ayve’s bathrobe. He found Ayve’s flesh hot and his member perfectly ready and waiting for him. The half-nymph opened his legs so Stephen had better access. It didn’t take more than half a dozen strokes until Ayve’s hips eagerly moved along.

He pushed the bathrobe off Ayve’s shoulders and pulled Ayve into a position above him. Stephen greedily kneaded Ayve’s bottom, at the same time not disregarding his primary need. The fantasy of slipping his finger inside was enough to make Stephen come into Ayve’s hand with another low moan.

After a short pause to get back to his senses, he shoved Ayve down on his back, turned on all fours and swallowed Ayve’s length, his tongue instantly wrapping itself around his shaft, licking it, tasting it. Within minutes he welcomed the warm semen. Stephen carefully rid Ayve from any residues and then turned with a content, slightly vicious smile to face his lover and sink into his arms. Possessively placing one leg between Ayve’s, he pulled the cover above them.

Yes, Ayve was his now. No matter what other obligations he had to fulfil, Ayve’s trust and affection (and lust) belonged to Stephen, he was sure of that. And he had made up his mind: no stupid talk about what had to change! He loved the tension of not knowing how far they’d go this time, what would happen. It made this so much more exciting, so much more special.

He pressed his heated and bruised lips against Ayve’s neck for a while. Then he murmured a question near the dark-haired’s ear: “Do you love me?” It was a stupid impulse, really, that had put those words on his tongue. Stephen knew Ayve had problems discerning his own feelings, he had told him so. But otherwise he couldn’t imagine sharing what he shared with Ayve with someone who did not love him. Stephen somehow knew that Ayve cared for him. If he hadn’t he wouldn’t have taken on all the trouble of taking him to his people, of telling him about his life. Stephen merely wanted to hear it. To receive a confirmation.

Ayve’s arms tightened around Stephen. He pushed a strand of Stephen’s blond hair off his forehead. The seconds grew longer. Stephen couldn’t see Ayve’s face as he had buried his on Ayve’s neck. If he had been able, he would have seen lifeless eyes staring into the distance. Finally they were shut and Ayve’s face was pressed closer to Stephen’s forehead. Then Stephen felt Ayve’s skin move against his minutely. He nodded. Yes I… I suppose I do, a soft, tentative voice sounded in the mind of the man who had waited so long to get to this point. Relieved and joyful he returned Ayve’s embrace, wrapping his limbs around the slim body and drawing him as close as he could.

*

They must have drifted off to sleep at some point because when Stephen awoke, it was broad daylight again (well, as bright as a day at the beginning of December could be). He rested against Ayve’s chest. His (now confirmed) lover had sat up and drank a cup of coffee, clearly relishing the peace of a ‘morning after’. Stephen smiled drowsily, grazing over the scarred and yet soft skin beneath him and stole a sip of the hot, rousing drink.

Stephen rendered himself to the comforts of Ayve’s long fingers playing with his hair. It definitely had not been a good idea to cut them off in the summer, the blond mused.

“Are you going to tell me now what’s happened then, after you left your tribe with this younger man?,” Stephen finally asked.

The caresses halted abruptly. When Stephen lifted his head and examined Ayve’s face, the man looked somewhat disgruntled. Stephen frowned. “What’s up? Hadn’t we…”

Long fingers were placed over Stephen’s lips so that the rest of his words found their way blocked.

Ayve closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath and then opened them again to lock them with Stephen’s. I did not object. I was only ruggedly pulled out of my peaceful state of mind and didn’t like it. He looked about. Let me put some clothes on and then I’ll go on telling you.

He handed his cup over to Stephen (who wasn’t pleased that Ayve left the bed to dress but refrained from complaining), swung his legs out of the bed and let the rest of his body follow. Stephen enjoyed a clear view as he went to his bag and took out the garments he had been washing in a nearby river and drying over the fire two days ago. Finally, he sat down at the table on which the breakfast had been served already and eyed Stephen questioningly.

“Come back to bed,” Stephen replied.

Ayve shook his head, filled the spare cup with more coffee and leaned back, crossing his legs.

Stephen sighed and left the warmth of the blankets as well. The bathrobe that still lay on the floor next to the bed had to suffice as substitution. He settled down, mustering what the table had to offer. Having picked his food, his attention travelled back to Ayve. He seemed contemplative.

Well, as I’ve said, I left my people out of two causes. First due to having a unique chance of finding out more about the as yet unknown part in me, the race of my genitor, and secondly because I discovered I had a sister who was clearly too old to have been sired at an appropriate time. One might object that if I haven’t noticed, it obviously hasn’t done any harm, but having been disregarded all my life this struck a nerve and hurt me deeply. It was as if my father hadn’t been able to wait to have his first truly own child, as if despite his assertions I hadn’t sufficed as his successor, not carrying his blood – or at least not his blood alone.

So I packed what little I had and followed this young man. The journey took us months. Ayve took a bite and gazed out of the window. We started out in relative silence, merely exchanging a few words to arrange our life. I suppose he watched me, tried to assess what to make of me. And I hadn’t had much good experience with other people and therefore had no false hopes of making a friend. Reluctantly, though, I started asking questions. After all, I was travelling to an unknown place, crowded by unknown people speaking an unknown language. I could use some information.

He was as monosyllabic as I was and dripped of cynicism but that was something I could handle although it startled me in the beginning, not being used to sharp tongues from my tribe. Within an evening of surprisingly heated storytelling, he explained the basic structure of his family to me, what position it had in their society and so forth. And he disclosed to me how I came to be what I am and that our stories were in fact intermingled.

Ayve wore a frown on his face and breathed in deeply.

It’s hard for me to differentiate what has been told to me when by whom so I’ll just give a short summary. It definitely was my grandfather who claimed that both of our people once were powerful beyond imagining, proud and beautiful. He exaggerated awfully. No matter what, he had put it into his head to restore that old glory.

It was without doubt my cynical guide who – with a good portion of disgust – first told me about our mutual pedigree. My grandfather had had the vision of restoring the old powers in his lineage. He’d started by picking the females with the greatest skills to carry out his children. But they were not strong enough in his eyes. After siring and raising several of them, he devised new means. Knowing that there was blood of his kin mixed in the line of my (nymph) father and the skills bound to it still surfaced in some of his relatives, he decided it was a cunning idea to sire a child with a nymph lady of my father’s family. This way he could combine (and hopefully amplify) his own powers with nymph skills and raise the long sought perfect child.

Ayve clicked his jaw. His face wore an impression Stephen hadn’t seen on him in a while, if ever. Cold cynicism, mixed with contempt and scorn. ‘Granddaddy’ in his vain conviction to be in complete control of his family sent his eldest living son to find a suiting nymph and deliver her to him.

The dark-haired and momentarily also dark-thinking man halted and narrowed his eyes as if regarding something intently. Having finished breakfast, Stephen would have liked to get dressed but seeing how much effort it cost Ayve to put those events into words he figured it would be impolite to do something else but listen patiently.

Perhaps I should put one thing clear first: whatever ‘my’ family has been doing, this has nothing to do with the mentality of that race in general. They know how to defend themselves but they are not…

Icy eyes gazed into the distance.

They respect other people, their right for freedom and their territory as long as that respect is returned. There is a reason why my family lives reclusively. If people knew about what has been going on between us in the past… I don’t suppose we’d still have anything to say. Somewhere on their way my family has been corrupted and this weakness of character has been passed down from one generation to the next.

Ayve nodded as if mentally checking that point on his list.

So: my grandfather was stupid enough to insult his son as ‘unworthy’, as ‘weak’ and send him to retrieve the suiting woman then to replace him with a better son. Clever. Ayve smirked lopsidedly, looking down on his hands with lifted eyebrows. Stephen was intrigued by the change in his lover.

Of course he did what he was told, very aware of being inferior. But he also decided that he deserved something for himself. From how Ayve’s jaw moved, Stephen supposed he just bit on his tongue. That’s when my mother, just in her fertile phase, crossed his path. He seduced her with his ability to influence minds. Of course that’s still no excuse for her to repudiate her son but at least it’s a little more understandable, knowing she did not completely willingly participate in the act that led to my existence. She’d clearly hoped that I’d be her bond-mates child. When I started acting strangely inside of her and was born with black hair…

Ayve shrugged, his eyes still fixed on his fingers.

I can’t even truly hate her, no matter how deeply hurtful and disappointing it was. She was just a simple woman scared out of her wits.

Stephen leaned forward. “Do you hate him?”

Ayve glanced over to the blond for the first time since they sat there. He crossed his arms, considering the question. It took him a while.

I don’t think so. Hatred implies having a relation to the person. I can’t say I have. I simply despise him. I suppose I adopted my grandfather’s view on him there. Ayve smirked.

Stephen used the short break in their conversation to fetch some clothes. “Who did your father abduct?”

One of my nymph-father’s sisters. His mother had had a younger bond-mate who re-bonded after she had died, so he had two sisters. Of course my genitor abducted the one that my father’s mother had carried out; the other wouldn’t have met the requirements. The young man that I have met later was the product of this.

Ayve shook his head. Funny how he is actually closer related to my father than I am, being his nephew. Ayve refilled his cup. Anyway. Let’s get this over with.

My guide was – although younger than me – my uncle and had been sent to see what had become of me and bring me along if he thought I was talented. During our journey to his people, he gave me a good impression of how they lived and taught me the basics of his language. Looking back, I think he liked having my full attention, that I valued what he had to tell and respected him. From what I know now this was the first time he experienced that. We grew friends, sort of, confidants. We were pretty much alike although his bitterness had another taste to it. He was more energetic, more passionate. But then again: who knows how I’d be without my father’s influence.

Ayve folded his arms.

We spent twenty-four hours, seven days the (nonexistent) week together. We hunted, we ate, we slept in each other’s company. And at some point he apparently decided to share the rest with me, too. I was ‘innocent’ enough to not even understand what this was about in the beginning. And he must have rejoiced in that, in having me completely to himself.

Stephen counted one and one together. “You started to have sex with him?” Ayve nodded minutely, without looking at him, as if he was caught up in his thoughts. “But because nymphs don’t talk about it, you didn’t even know what that was? Didn’t you mention something about a nice girl you had met?”

Ayve shook his head. We never touched. And definitely not in such a manner. I had no idea my body could react like that until he first approached me.

Stephen regarded this with curiosity. There was no reason to be jealous, these events lay far in the past. It was interesting to learn how his lover had detected his sexuality. “But he knew what he was doing, I take it?”

Ayve grinned wickedly. Oh yes, he knew exactly what he was doing, what he wanted and how to get it. And being desperate for this kind of attention, I completely fell for him. I was in absolute turmoil. We spent a few memorable weeks together.

But when we came closer to his father’s dwellings, he impressed upon me not to make our special connection known to anybody. And he kept to that himself. After we had arrived, I didn’t see him in private for weeks.

It was hard in the beginning, switching from such intense being-together to the coldness that struck me there. I’d thought the nymphs were bad but my new ‘family’ was even worse. Envy and distrust ate at them. I was not a new member of the family, I was a new competitor. At best tolerated, my only noteworthy interactions were the ‘lessons’ my grandfather gave the two of us. Lessons to teach us how to properly use our telekinetic and mind-influential skills. They were no fun, I can tell you. It was more or less impossible to please him. No wonder my uncle was as cynical as he was.

Apart from those hours, I spent most of my time alone. They lived underground, only leaving to hunt and the like. I made a point of spending as little time down there as possible. This way my stay there remained bearable. And it also gave him the opportunity to take up our affair after a few weeks, clearly needing the warmth of another person as much as I did. From then on we met at unlikely places above ground, one of us always checking for unwelcome visitors during our conversations and other exchanges. We also met in irregular intervals, often leaving weeks in between. Homosexuality is not per se condemned in their culture. It’s normal even. But only as long as it doesn’t lead to anything serious. And he was his father’s favourite. He needed to watch his back. If anyone had noticed anything out of the ordinary, it would have been used against him. He couldn’t afford anyweaknesses. It got so far that after a few years’ practice I started to reach a similar level of skill in using my telekinetic powers and he feared I might overtake him in time and asked me to hold back. Having no wish to enter the competition and – frankly – doing whatever he wanted anyway, I obeyed and I suppose it’s the best I could’ve done.

A question arose in Stephen’s mind. It was very personal but then again: they were lovers. “You make it sound as if he was very dominant in your relationship whereas you just welcomed him… That makes me wonder if… I mean…”

Ayve looked at him, mild amusement hiding in his eyes, clearly already guessing what Stephen wanted to ask but waiting for him to speak it out aloud.

Stephen swallowed his insecurity and named it bluntly. “When you had sex it was he who penetrated you, wasn’t it?”

Ayve nodded minutely but something in his posture suggested not pursuing that topic any further.

Stephen appraised his possibilities for a moment. And decided he would still ask. “What’s changed? Is he the reason you don’t want that anymore?”

Ayve smiled commendatory biting his tongue because he had lost the staring contest and was forced to find an answer now.

I suppose he’s the main factor, yes. It was a strange time. On the one hand I bathed in bliss because someone showed me so much affection, on the other hand I never felt welcome there, I missed my home and he indeed was very dominant. I had always been very independent, I loved my freedom but I had to give that up in exchange for his love. So I felt encaged, oppressed in my whole being because I had to watch my every step in the presence of my ‘family’ and in combination with his very possessive way of loving and love making I had hardly enough space to breathe.

When I thought I couldn’t abide it any longer, I pleaded with him to leave with me, to find a place where we could live on our own. But he wasn’t ready for that. We had a terrible row and I went off alone.

It took me ages to find back to my people. That was enough time to realise how much I needed my freedom and that it probably would never have worked between us. I can’t say I’ve never been tempted but in the end I’ve kept true to myself. I’m not the submissive type. But I fear I might lapse back to old habits and dig up old feelings with it. I dread the turmoil I was in then. I never want that in me again.

“Do I seem like the dominant type?” Stephen asked to point out that this was unlikely to happen with him.

Ayve leaned forward and buried his face in his hands in desperation. His lover placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, regretting to push him like that but Ayve got up and put some space between them. I’m sorry, it’s just a little too much for me at the moment. I told you I didn’t cope with being this close to someone very well, he tried to explain himself.

The slender man leaned against the wall at the opposite side of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest, and closed his eyes, breathing out heavily.

Stephen couldn’t do anything but give him time. Discussing such an intimate topic had pumped adrenalin into his blood as well and he welcomed the quiet, although slightly worried about Ayve’s reaction.

“I don’t need that to be happy with you, I just wanted to know why,” he tried to set his question into the right light.

“I know,” Ayve mouthed, his eyebrows constricting, and pushed himself off the wall. He grabbed his mantle. Would you mind catching a bit of fresh air? There’s not much left to discuss anyway.

“Sure,” Stephen agreed and got up as well.

They visited a restaurant for lunch. By that time Ayve had regained his countenance and was fine again with their usual exchange of subtle touches and looks.

“What happened when you got back to your people?” Stephen asked, hoping not to step into another unpleasant topic, after they had placed their order.

My father was delighted, overwhelmed with joy. He had hoped for my return. After all, it was not unusual for a nymph my age to leave the tribe for a while, only that the circumstances under which I had left had been different, Ayve explained.

And funny as it is, in my absence people seemed to have realised how much I had contributed to their welfare, being the best hunter in the tribe and so on. It was as the saying goes: you don’t realise what you have until you lose it. Some of their winters apparently had been harsher than they had wished for so when my father demanded that I was finally paid the respect I deserved as his successor, they were more willing to give it than in the past. They weren’t eager but they saw the advantage of being on my good side, that’s my interpretation of events.

I once again joined my father on his travels from one settlement to the next to refresh and enhance my knowledge of rites and healing practices since he slowly grew old and I was old enough to bond and take over his place.

Stephen intervened: “Where you ready for that? I mean, had you entirely overcome your feelings for… your uncle? Didn’t it feel strange to face being together with a woman suddenly? And –pardon that flood of questions – wasn’t it strange to be in love with your uncle in the first place?” Due to the developments earlier, Stephen hadn’t been able to put forth that last question when it would have fitted best.

Ayve took in the aroma of his tea with closed eyes.

I didn’t care about him being a relative. Why should I? It’s not as if we could have accidentally conducted incest by siring a child. Neither was he older than me and abusing his position of authority or anything. We were simply two males welt together by their loneliness. Relation was of no importance. Neither of us had experienced what a true family was like – we didn’t care about such matters.

Had I overcome my infatuation with him? Ayve’s brows constricted. I know this will sound awkward or disconcerting to you but… I’m not sure if I ever have.

That indeed wasn’t exactly what Stephen had wanted to hear. “Does that mean he’s still alive?” he asked cautiously, controlling the sound of his voice to not give away his dread. Ayve nodded and looked up at him.

He kept silent a little too long for Stephen’s taste. Something was wrong. “You clearly want to tell me something. Don’t stretch this unnecessarily, please,” he demanded.

Ayve nodded thoughtfully. He was the one who attacked you in July.

Guilt was written all over Ayve’s face as if he had somehow been responsible for this violence.

A series of thoughts invaded Stephen’s mind from the question why Ayve had been there that evening and finally understanding the motif for the attack over remembering that Ayve had said he hadn’t thought ‘he’d go this far’ later in the hospital to… -that day when he had encountered that man in the Secret Service Quarters in Edinburgh wearing a ring just like Ayve’s new one (that was back on Ayve’s hand now which meant he had been hiding it from his tribe) and looking daggers at him. So now Stephen finally knew what kind of connection this man had to Ayve. And why his face had carried so much animosity.

“Does he kill all your lovers?” Of course he didn’t, a voice in his head informed Stephen a second later. Ayve wouldn’t have said he hadn’t expected it otherwise.

What lovers? the half-nymph replied. You’re the first who has gotten this close to me.

“So he felt I was a threat to him by taking his place. But… I mean, you’ve had ages. He’s had ages. You’re not trying to tell me now that you and him are still…?”

Ayve shook his head and smiled reassuringly. No, we’re not a couple. I’ve always told him I didn’t want that. But I suppose I never was able to word a coherent explanation and he has therefore never abandoned hope that at some point I might give in.

Stephen mechanically folded his arms. “Give in to feelings you admit to still having.” Hadn’t Ayve said last night he loved him?

I feel drawn to him, yes. I know it sounds incomprehensible, especially in your ears, but I’d trust him with my life. I… After the attack on my tribe, he came looking for me. His father had died before he had reached the age when he could have taken up leadership, so his brother – my genitor – had been made leader and he – Pheus is his name – had gained the freedom to go and search for me. He had hoped to gain me back but all he found was a broken body. If he hadn’t been entirely patient with me despite my constant cringing from his every touch and hadn’t tended to my injuries… I don’t know if I’d still be sane or even alive today.

Ayve dragged his hand nervously through his hair.

I know what he’s done to you is inexcusable. I won’t even try to justify it although I know why he did it. But to me he’s always been a loyal friend. And when I say I’m not sure whether I have gotten over him yet, I think that has to do with him being the only person in my life so far that I have shared such intimacy with, both mentally and physically, and I automatically associate that with him.

Yet I know he’s not the right man for me. I have told him what he wants will never come to pass. No matter what. I told him that before the two of us entered a serious relationship. And I meant what I’ve said in the past weeks, I meant what I said yesterday. You’re the best that’s ever happened to me. I’m grateful beyond my ability to express it for what you are giving me. Ayve’s face was still filled with guilt and concern.

“But he’ll still be a part of your life,” Stephen observed.

Ayve nodded silently.

“Is he going to fight for you?”

Not the way you mean it. He’s not going to harm you in any way. He’s aware that I wouldn’t tolerate that. I think he knows that he’s got no chance at the moment and will lay low for a while, pretend to accept my wishes. But I’m sure he won’t give up.

Stephen nodded silently. He stared at his lover for ages.

“You once said you could make us completely unnoticed if you want. Do you stick by that?” he then finally asked.

Ayve nodded puzzled, shrugging.

“Do it,” Stephen demanded.

And now? Ayve asked to signal the safety measures were in place.

“Get up.”

Ayve did as he was told. An instant later he found himself pressed against the wall, Stephen clinging to his lips, a hand cupping his bottom, a knee pressing against his crotch. The message was easy to understand.

After a few minutes, Stephen released his lover’s lips, locked his eyes with him and finally stepped back, running fingers over his mouth and returning to the table. They waited until the dishes had been served.

“So, what happened in between? Did you replace your father as leader?” Stephen asked without commenting on his outburst of possessiveness a few minutes ago.

Ayve shook his head, shoving a portion of noodles into his mouth. It never got that far. As I said, I accompanied him for a few years, learning what was necessary – funnily enough that included a certain amount of ‘sexual education’ since he was the one to teach the couples how it was done and prepared the teas. I think my unimpressed reaction to the topic revealed to him that I had been made acquainted to this part of life already and he wasn’t pleased. Perhaps he even had second thoughts because it took longer than I had expected for him to propose a female nymph to bond with.

He was clever enough not to pick randomly but choose the one I had already befriended. I suppose he had her wait for me. Or at least I was surprised to find her as yet un-bonded. But of course it’s also possible that people considered her tainted because she had spent so much time with me. I don’t know.

So, we bonded, a few years passed and then the tribe was attacked. Ayve shrugged. There’s nothing more to tell.

Stephen knew there was still a world of things to tell but refrained from pointing that out.

*

They flew home the next day. Well - back to Scotland. The trip had been shorter than expected but it had fulfilled its purpose: creating a foundation of their relationship, building up a deeply rooted trust and respect for each other and giving Stephen a better understanding of who Ayve truly was. The past two weeks had revealed more about Ayve than the past ten years.

Stephen looked down on the warm, white-lined hand he held. The silent man to his left looked down on the clouds that passed by. “What’s going to happen now?” he asked him. “Do you intend to go on like we used to? Meeting once a month for a night or two? I don’t know if I could do that…”

Ayve turned his head. What do you propose?

Stephen sighed. He knew what he dreamed of, but… “I don’t know. Where are you when you are not with your tribe? Isn’t there a way of spending more of that time together?”

Ayve nodded curtly, already gazing into the distance. I’ll give it some thought.

When they stood at the luggage conveyor belt waiting for their bags to arrive, Ayve’s mobile phone rang. Stephen raised his eyebrows in surprise – he’d never witnessed Ayve getting called by anyone – whilst Ayve answered the call. For several moments his lover was engaged in listening to whatever the other person had to say with an unmoved face. And then he hung up.

Stephen looked at him puzzled. “What’s up?” Ayve smiled.

Nothing that concerns you. He handed Stephen his bag.

Stephen frowned but once more left it at it. If they’d been the average couple it would not have bothered him or so he regarded the matter. It wouldn’t help to strip Ayve of the privilege of leading a life beyond their relationship, to try and control his every move. He just had to trust him, even though his secretive ways sometimes made it difficult. So far Ayve had given Stephen no true reason for doubt.

Let’s go and drink a cup of coffee before we part, Ayve suggested.

“What, you’re not coming with me?” Ayve shook his head.

No, I’ve got things to see to. He gestured over to a nearby café. They took seats.

“But in this case I want the number of that mobile,” Stephen demanded.

Ayve smiled benignly. Hand over some paper then.

***


Chapter title inspired by the story "Seeking Solace" by Hayley_Beth24, posted on Aarinfantasy.

Comments, critical annotations and suggestions are welcome.