THE CHAINED GIFT XII: Pierced

Lady Neskahal's curiosity about the new apprentice hadn't been satisfied in just one session; he called him again, a week later, and once more in another seven days. Keeping his fierceness of the first time had been exhausting for Caradhar, all the more since he himself had lost interest in the novelty... In his mind, a meeting with the Maeda took place like a hard weapon training session: focus anger, move fast, hit hard... And always with ominous pictures dominating his thoughts.

He wasn't visited by Sül these days. He wondered if anything had happened to the Shadow, or if he was still feeling that strange mood from the last time. He found himself recalling the young elf's face, which he had seen in so little occasions: his superficial traits similar to Nestro, and yet... A mouth that smiled while his eyes had an expression he didn't know how to define. Nestro was all satisfaction: fond of jokes, easy to please, near, without masks. Sül seemed ready to run away the moment one tried to lift the end of his hood.

And just when he was thinking of his wish to see him, he appeared. He showed his old smile and mocking tone, and sat on the bed as he used to do. Keeping his distance.

'Hey, boy!' greeted the Shadow, with a grin. 'I bet you've been very busy. I'd say you lost weight again. Tsk, tsk... Insatiable slut, hmmm? Now, any news?'

'... I'm making contact,' answered Caradhar, after thinking about it for a bit. 'I've only seen her in two more occasions; yesterday it was the second...

'Right,' interrupted his companion. 'What about the lab? Any progress?'

'Not yet. I am trying to be chosen for an expedition to Ummankor. I think I'll get a better idea of what they are after if I see what they are doing there with my own eyes. My level is more advanced than they believe: humans are always to the point when they train apprentices, they are less formalistic.'

'Ummankor's a very dangerous place...'

'I've already been there,' he shrugged.

'I don't like that plan... It'll be too difficult to watch your back; impossible, if I'm ordered to stay in Argailias...'

'You didn't have any problem with leaving me to myself during the last two weeks.'

Sül bit his tongue; he didn't want to tell him that no day had passed without him coming to check how he was doing, despite his busy schedule. He didn't want to confess how hard was the mere fact of facing him and speaking naturally. He decided to change the subject.

'Well, I've got news, you know, brat?' I haven't been screwing around,' he announced in a festive tone. 'Check this out: his Highness the Prince informed the Maedai of each House that he wants to have his only daughter married. The news didn't go public but, of course, sharp ears can even listen to the silence.'

'I can't see why that is special.'

The Shadow raised his eyebrows; sometimes, Caradhar's ignorance in relation to the most common subjects was very curious.

'Two questions: First, one of the Houses, almost certainly First Circle, will have one of its sons sitting besides the throne of Argailias. Well, that's a hard blow for Arestinias 'cause, you see, there aren't any kids running around. And second, why the hurry? The Prince's daughter's still very young, she barely has tits. She was born when her parents were already mature, and it's very unlikely that they can have another child. If they waited for her majority, he could name the girl as his successor and take his time to look for a husband. Either someone's putting pressure on the Prince or there's something else we don't know.'

'And what does that have to do with us being here?'

'There's something; my guts tell me.'

'But the incursion in Ummankor happened many weeks ago; if the Prince's decision has just been known, I can't see how both things can be related.'

'Ah, but it's always the same: you always find Houses with inside information, worming it out of the Prince before the rest. I could almost bet my arse that our Lady Neskahal warmed His Highness' bed at least once. And that despite they're relatives... What the blazes: nor even horses in their barns are safe when she's around...'

Sül turned, clenching his jaw. As he did, he displayed his left side, which had been kept hidden all that time; through the torn black fabric, his waist and part of his back were shown, crossed by a large wound covered in dry blood. Caradhar looked there and approached him, stretching his arm to inspect the damage; the Shadow's reaction, covering himself and jumping out of his reach, surprised him.

'How did you get that?' asked the gifted, curious.

'This? Naaah, that's nothing: a ledge too sharp. Serves me well for climbing like a beginner...'

'Come here; I'll take care of it.'

'It's... it's not necessary, just a scratch; forget it.'

'I said come here.'

Caradhar knit his eyebrows; his eyes were piercing him in such a way, his voice sounded so assertive and incisive, that Sül couldn't but obey. He walked back to the bed and there he stood, clenching his fists. The young elf with the Gift examined the injury; it didn't look serious, but it could get infected. He cut his finger and rubbed his healing blood along the affected skin.

The Shadow felt a strange tingling, warm sensation that made him swallow; it was his first time experiencing the Gift and didn't know what was making him shudder: either the effect of the supernatural healing or that skin, brushing his... Caradhar's voice, asking 'What's this?', woke him up of the trance.

And it was while treating him that the elf noticed a peculiar pattern on the spy's back. He tugged the rent fabric and caught a glimpse of whitish marks arranged in curve lines before the Shadow roughly grasped his hand and moved it away, while turning left to hide the revealing tear.

'More scars?' insisted the younger elf. 'Can I have a look at them?'

'No! Listen, I thank you for... But that thing on my back's an old issue; forget it, please...'

The Shadow's tone was almost pleading. Caradhar stood back, with a blank expression; that day they parted in a tense way.

The five days of festivities to celebrate the longest night of the year were an important event in the elven calendar. In every house of Argailias, and of course, also in the noble Houses, night life took over, the nights busy with banquets, songs and dances, while in the daytime the city snoozed and recovered strength to start the next watch of excesses.

As Caradhar didn't belong to the House, he was allowed to leave and celebrate the holidays with his own people. The young gifted spoke to the Shadow about an idea that had been going round in his head.

'This days, safety will be less strict than usual. If I stay in the House I might have the chance to slip into the laboratory and have a look at the office where the Grand Alchemist holds those meetings with the Maeda.'

'I already thought 'bout that,' said Sül. 'But if someone discovered traces of a lurcher you'd become a suspect, precisely 'cause you are a stranger and still stayed in Arestinias. You better use those five days to clear off openly; I'll deal with everything.'

'But you aren't an alchemist; you could overlook relevant things.'

'Well it's the best we have, so...'

Caradhar stared at him in silence for a moment. Then he continued.

'What if you take me with you? I wouldn't let anything escape. And I bet you'd manage to sneak me in with no problems.'

'Hah! It's hard enough for me, let alone saddled with a fretful brat,' said Sül sarcastically. 'No; too risky.'

'It wouldn't be the first time; and, as far as I remember, in that occasion things went according to plan...'

'You were almost killed!' The Shadow swallowed.

'Killing me is not so easy. We should try. What do you say?'

Sül looked down, seized by doubt. Certainly, House Arestinias didn't seem such a big problem, in safety terms. And yet...

'Alright,' he agreed, at last. 'But you better obey my every command and not leave my side a fucking inch, got that?'

And the holidays arrived. Caradhar asked his mentor, Raisven, for permission to leave the House. The female elf, who watched him with disapproval since the Maeda's visit, didn't deny, however, his request.

The elf went into hiding in Sül's refuge in the Ditch; it wasn't much, but displaying his face in the streets was not safe. The first watch night, while the Shadow prepared the ground, the young gifted poked around the small place. It wasn't much more than a windowless hole (it reminded him of his lodging with Old Fox), with a folding bed, a chipped washbasin and a quilted mat on the floor. There weren't any personal belongings on sight, except the oil lamp, and Caradhar grimaced when he remember the Shadow had dared to call his room in Therendanar a rats' nest.

Echoes of voices, laughter, music and fireworks came from outside, since even in the Ditch, the solstice festival was one of the most popular events of the year. As for the elf, he lay down on the folding bed and fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke up, there was a dark figure standing against the wall, watching him in silence; he sit up like a spring, and the figure laughed softly: it was Sül.

'Fear not, little one,' the Shadow mocked. 'Dawn's near, and I think it's the best hour. Let's go; but before...'

The spy lifted up the mat; under it, the old dusty wooden floor looked identical to the rest of the room. He pressed several points and, right away, a trap door was revealed. Inside the discreet storage space there were clothes, weapons and several sealed boxes. Sül took out a dark attire, like his, and a couple of stilettos, and threw them to his companion, who changed without a word.

The noise in the streets was fading away, after the rejoicing through the whole night. They arrived at House Arestinias, though not without effort for the alchemist apprentice, as the Shadow had chosen a route that ran partially over the roofs. Once there, Sül placed under their boots some kind of auxiliary sole to avoid leaving footprints, slipped through a skylight and motioned for Caradhar to wait; after a while he poked his head out and waved, meaning 'way clear'.

Keeping himself close to the spy, except in those moments in which he went ahead to see how the land lied, the gifted walked through a room packed full of boxes and barrels; outside they jumped from a wooden balustrade to the nearest ceiling beam of a large hall, familiar to the young elf: that was the laboratory warehouse. If he remembered correctly, the doors led to a corridor that came out into the place where he worked. They crossed over the beam towards a lattice made of wooden strips, placed on top of the doors, that the Shadow had loosened previously; it covered an air duct, and judging by the empty shelves along both walls, it had served as a store to macerate substances. An identical lattice was removed at the end, and they found themselves looking at the laboratory from above.

Sül dropped a thin, strong rope, climbed down and watched while his companion did the same. He left it there, because that would be their scape route; without an explanation, he unlocked the main door and then walked to the Grand Alchemist's office.

The Shadow signalled the gifted to watch while he picked the complicated lock of the door; Caradhar did so, standing at his back during the long time in which the expert hands worked with the picklocks. In the end, the door opened with a slight 'click'. The amateur spy followed the real one into the room.

Suddenly, Sül froze; he was experiencing a weird sensation that made his hair stand. He instantly turned around and opened his eyes wide; with a quick pull he moved Caradhar aside, right in time to avoid by a couple of inches a dagger that, directed to his nape, grazed his neck instead. The gifted, caught by surprise, stumbled and banged his side against the wall, but could see his companion ducking and throwing a kick aimed at knocking down the new figure that had appeared behind their backs; he easily deduced, from his clothes, that it was another Darshi'nai.

The second Shadow dodged the kick with a jump, and then threw the dagger to his opponent, who evaded rolling aside, and automatically stood up and unsheathed two stilettos. As the newcomer blocked the entrance, and prevented Caradhar from leaving the room, Sül forced him to move back with a charge. He knew that his enemy would dodge and attack his unprotected sides, but the only thought in his mind was to clear the way so that his protégé could get as far away as possible. The younger elf took the opportunity to slip outside the office, but instead of running he drew his own weapons and tried to join the fight.

Sül had studied his opponent's movements and knew he wasn't a beginner; in fact, he reminded him of his master, because of the way he reacted, as if earth didn't pull him downwards and manoeuvring supposed no effort for him. That's why he was alarmed when he saw, from the corner of his eye, Caradhar positioning himself between them; and not without reason, since the second Shadow threw, quick as lightning, a blade that pierced the gifted's shoulder, making him release his stiletto. Sül muttered a peremptory 'Run!'. The young elf hesitated for a second, and then turned around, ready to obey; his enemy used that movement to throw a thrust that tore his hood, causing his dyed black hair to spread over his shoulders. Sül desperately pushed a shelf full of books over the Shadow, who had no choice but avoiding it, giving Caradhar time to reach the rope and climb up to the duct.

As for Sül, he managed to contain the second spy for some time; but the more they fought, the more his hopes to defeat him vanished. He was too fast and too skilled, and soon, all the young Shadow could do was to defend himself from his attacks. As a last resort, he let him come as near as possible and threw a handful of blinding dust to his face; in a flash, he took the same path as Caradhar and ran.

It didn't take him long to catch up with his protégé: together they ran back to the skylight they had used to enter and went away through the roofs. And as expected, the shape of their pursuer materialised too soon behind their backs.

Sül's brain worked fast. He knew it would be impossible to escape with the burden of his companion; on the other hand, that Shadow had obviously realised that Caradhar wasn't a professional: if they split, he would surely chase him, judging him easier to capture. He made up his mind: dragging Caradhar behind a wall, he pointed at a space in the shadows, in the middle of two buildings; then he whispered: 'Jump and wait 'till it's safe. I'll make him follow me'. Giving him no time to agree, the Shadow tore his hood off and ran in another direction. He was hoping his loose dark hair would confuse his enemy enough to take the bait.

It took him two hours of running like a hare in front of a greyhound, but Sül finally managed to give the other Shadow the slip. Once he considered it was safe, an exhausted spy directed his steps to the refuge in the Ditch. Caradhar wasn't there.

He waited for some time that seemed like forever; outside, rain started to fall heavily on the empty streets. When he couldn't stand it any longer, he set off in search of him.

As fast as possible, but without forgetting caution, Sül covered the path his companion should have used from the spot where they split. He looked everywhere, afraid of having that formidable enemy leaping on him from any corner; although what terrified him the most was the possibility of that Shadow finding his young companion before him.

After six hours he found Caradhar.

He was right in the same place where he had left him, down the dark crack between the walls of two buildings. When he had jumped into the half-light, he hadn't realised that someone had abandoned the remains of a metallic framework on the bottom; upon falling, he had got impaled by a bar over three feet long; it was sticking out from his chest, right through the spot where the base of his heart should be.

Sül felt his blood running cold. One foot over the gifted's chest, along the protruding part of the bar, half diluted by the rain, there were remains of blood more concentrated than the ones along the rest of the metal surface. He understood what had happened: how the wound had closed around the foreign body going through his chest; how the elf had tried to push himself upwards, more than once, feeling the flesh of his own heart torn every attempt, and regenerated again, until his strength failed him...

He held Caradhar's body in his arms; his heart was beating weakly, but he was frozen and drenched by the rain, that had washed his hair dye away, leaving black lines along his face. He observed that the young elf had had enough presence of mind to make a gag with a shred of his clothes, to quieten his screams upon trying to free himself. Tears ran down the Shadow's cheeks, although he didn't even noticed them, mixed with the raindrops... Gently, he released the gag; Caradhar regained consciousness and looked at him, with glassy eyes.

'... Hurts... Hurts a lot...'

'I know... I know... Relax... Hush...' Without thinking, he started to stroke his soaked red hair. 'Now I'll get you out of here and everything will be alright... Everything will be alright in a minute... I'm sorry, 'cause I'll hurt you once more... But then it will be over, I promise... Just once more...'

'You have... cover my mouth... or I'll scream...'

Sül nodded, feeling a tight knot in his stomach as he gagged him again. His chaotic mind studied which would be the least painful way of releasing him; he decided to push him, instead of pulling him up. He crouched under Caradhar, firmly held his sides, clenched his jaw and pushed himself upwards.

Despite the gag and the rain he could clearly hear the young elf's muffled howling. He finished as fast as he could and took him in his arms; he had fainted again. Through the hole in his clothes he was able to see the horrible wound, going through his chest from side to side, and his heart beating... He was able to see his own body across... And then the flesh started, he couldn't explain it better, to expand, and the separated ends to touch each other again, until there was no hole any longer, just a big stain of blood.

He didn't dare to wait any longer, with the danger of being found by the other Shadow. Hoping that the rain would wash their trail off, he carried the unconscious elf and headed to his refuge.

Darkness would be soon upon them, bringing the hubbub back. Sül was thinking of nothing but getting his companion to safety before the streets were crowded again. Once back in the gloomy room, he left him on the folding bed, lit the lamp and removed his drenched, broken and blood-stained shirt, rubbing his chest and arms to warm him up. His heart seemed to beat normally, at last, and his pallid skin regained a bit of its colour. Taking a cloth, he plunged it into water and wiped the stains of coagulated blood and the dark marks of dye on his face and hair. His gaze was seized, for a moment, by the delicate features of Caradhar; by his red eyebrows and eyelashes; by the soft curve of his lips... Without realising it, the hand that was holding the cloth went down to the redhead's waist, passed his navel and fondled his abdomen, going further and further down... When he noticed what he was doing, the Shadow stopped sharply and turned around, plunging the cloth once more into the reddish water of the washbasin, which he grasped with both hands, breathing heavily, trying to compose himself.

When he faced his companion again he found him awake, sitting up on the bed, staring at him intensely.

'Caradhar!' Confused, he approached him, kneeling besides the small folding bed. 'Gods, I'm sorry... If I hadn't let you come... If I'd found you earlier... I...'

He shut up, because the other elf grabbed his collar and started to tug at the cords that fastened his clothes. Sül moved back, surprised, leaning on his hands, but the gifted jumped out of the bed and straddled him on the mat, while he continued stripping him.

'I told you killing me was not so easy,' he simply said.

'Wait... I... I can't...' complained the Shadow, looking at him with eyes where anguish and desire formed a strange combination...

Caradhar pursed his lips, moved his hand towards his companion's groin and placed it on the erection that was pressing against his black breeches. Fixing his red eyes on his, he just said:

'Shut up.'

Tired of fighting the fastenings of his clothes, the gifted simply slid the shirt and all the rest along his torso and arms, and stroked the Shadow's well-muscled chest and stomach, marked here and there with scars.

Then he made him lie face down on the mat, and what he saw took his breath away: on the spy's back, perfectly embossed on the skin, there was an amazing weaving of white scars forming lines, mostly curved, rarely straight, covering all the surface and even disappearing into the clothes he was wearing up to his waist.

He slid his hand along that tapestry woven on flesh, delighted with the tact of its reliefs under his fingertips. Under him, Sül moaned. Then, wishing to watch the whole picture, the gifted pulled down his breeches, making them slip along the Shadow's muscled buttocks; the design reached his tail bone with a pointed bottom. His hand went down to the spot where the furrow starts, and stopped.

Unfastening his own trousers he released his member, completely aroused. The elf spat on the palm of his hand and rubbed it along its length, mixing saliva with the moisture of his excitement. Then he took the Shadow by the hips and pulled towards himself without ceremony, his sex aiming at the entrance between his buttocks. Sül stifled a cry.

'No! Wait! There, I've never... Ugh!'

The young spy could only clench his teeth and endure the ram that made its way inside him, until it completely penetrated, and started to move, slowly at first, then increasing the pace, but always roughly, making him feel every thrust of his companion's loins against his rear. Pain caught him off guard, burning, like a blade piercing his flesh again and again; he tried to focus on something else: on the pressure of the hands that firmly held his hips; the caress of the long, wet hair, brushing his back with each sway; the sound of heavy breath... At one point, when he thought he could bear no more, Caradhar trapped him even tighter and froze, his orgasm throbbing inside him.

The gifted's body slowly collapsed over Sül; the white hands glided to his sex, encircling it, stimulating it...

To his own surprise, the Shadow ejaculated as well.

Lying on their sides over the mat, Caradhar's heartbeat still accelerated drumming against his back, his hands around his waist... Sül couldn't tell anymore what had been more intense, either the pain or the pleasure... He flexed one leg and jolted, seized with a searing feeling in his rear. Caradhar looked down and watched the traces of blood on the young spy's inner thighs; he knit his red eyebrows.

The Shadow tried to relax, waiting for the pain to be over; suddenly, he noticed the contact of fingers slipping between his buttocks. He misinterpreted the gesture and fidgeted, but the gifted held him tight with his free arm and stuck the face to his neck, whispering soothing words at his ear so that he would allow him to use his healing blood.

The touch of those fingers was unexpectedly comfortable, like that occasion when they had healed the wound on his side; only that, this time, the tickling place was more sensible, more secret. Soon the pain disappeared, replaced by warmth, becoming hotter an hotter as they entered deeper...

'Not again, please...' begged Sül, coming out of the trance. 'It hurts too much... I though you...'

'I won't hurt you again,' whispered the redhead. 'You have my word.'

Caradhar got rid of his breeches and did the same with Sül's ones, still entangled around his legs; slowly fondled the recently exposed skin, going up to his chest, that nervously moved up and down. The elf placed himself on top and fixed his eyes on his, more deeply than anything the Shadow had experienced before; he stretched his neck, hypnotised, searching for his lips; yet the young gifted buried his face under his chin, and kissed, and licked, sliding his tongue along the hot skin; it went down to his nipples, where it lingered, fluttering around the sensible flesh, moistening them until they hardened; the elf receiving those caresses arched his back, and his fingers got tangled up in the mass of flaming hair spread over him.

The gifted went further South, leaving a thin trail of saliva across his partner's stomach, on his navel and his smooth and soft pelvis. He checked, with satisfaction, that desire had raised his mast again, and brushed with the tip of his tongue the wet groove at the end, spreading the transparent nectar. Sül moaned, his hands holding the red-haired head, in a quiet plea to keep receiving such attentions from those lips.

And the lips obeyed, but only after bathing the gifted's fingers with saliva, ready to meet again the Shadow's secret cavity; while Caradhar's mouth closed to please the hard member, and his tongue kept dancing, his fingers plunged into the elastic walls, until they found that sensible spot which is the source of pleasure.

Sül moaned even deeper; his first feeling of rejection upon being penetrated again turned into surrender. He spread his legs more, rocking his hips so that the caresses became more intense.

'Ah... Adhar... I'm coming...'

Caradhar's mouth released him in search of his lips, his tongue forcing its way through them to meet his; he felt Sül's inner walls pulsating; the sticky sperm under his stomach; his panting inside while hungrily answering to his kiss, holding him so tightly it almost hurt.

They moved their lips apart; the younger elf gazed at Sül's dark eyes and turned him onto his abdomen once more.

The view of the scarifications, which he didn't grow weary of contemplating, unfolded again in front of his eyes. He ran the tip of his tongue along the spirals, curves and waves; his shaft, as slippery now as Sül's, yearned for diving again into the warm breach that he had already forced to give in...

When Caradhar took position between his buttocks, the Shadow involuntarily tensed his body; the gifted leaned over him, kissing him from the base of his nape, all the way to the pointy end of his ear, with his wet lips; then whispered: 'Trust me'.

Sül closed his eyes. He thought of all the occasions in which he had spied his protégé in bed, with Darial or Lady Neskahal; it wasn't a pleasant thought (and, fortunately for him, he had never seen him with Nestro), but as far as he could remember, Caradhar had never whispered reassuring words to them; he had never held them as he was holding him now... The dark-haired elf shifted under the body that was trapping him, enjoying the contact of their bare skins against each other; he raised one hand and stroked the alluring face, inciting him to continue; soon he had him inside once more, gently this time, waiting for him to adjust to his shape before starting to move in and out; his throat releasing excited gasps besides his ear; his breath bathing his neck...

Sül climaxed almost together with Caradhar; and this time it didn't surprise him.

They moved to the bed to fight the cold, entwining their bodies on the narrow space. Sül lay on his stomach, gazing at the naked wall; besides Caradhar, resting his head on his bent arm, studied again the Shadow's scars. His thoroughly observation revealed to him that it was a fairly old scarification tattoo; he raised his eyebrows upon discovering that it consisted of a continuous line, starting in a spiral on his left side and running across his whole skin, before finishing on the other side. It hadn't been traced in one single session: he could make out slightly bulging parts here and there, where the blade had resumed the work of the previous session. The gifted placed the palm of his hand on his partner's back and fondled it.

'Now I wonder if you fucked me or my tattoo,' said the Shadow, ironically.

'I would have done it with or without it. Do all the Darshi'nai have one?'

'Hell no... And I'm not particularly excited about you finding it so captivating... It's always been my disgrace. I didn't want you to see it.' He buried his face in the small pillow.

'Why? It is beautiful. It is perfect.'

Sül cocked his head slowly and peered at Caradhar; he found hard to believe that he were speaking seriously, until he remember the gifted wasn't fond of jokes. The only possible explanation was, therefore, that he possessed wretched tastes...

'Who made it to you?' insisted the redhead.

Sül hesitated; those were memories he didn't like to recall, but he felt he had to share them with his companion. He had never told anyone before.

'My neidokesh; 'to temper your nerves', he used to say. There were days in which I buggered it big time with my training; then he'd make me lie face down on the floor, would take out the blade and start to cut. I was a kid, but still he wouldn't allow me to move, nor cry, nor even bite a stick. The next days, oh, gods, I'd sweat like a pig, bend like a rush, jump 'till I'd spit my lungs out of sheer exhaustion, hoping I wouldn't commit a single mistake. And sometimes I managed, oh, yes; and even those days, when he fancied it, he'd take out again that shit he used to slice me and carry on where he left off.'

'I couldn't understand: what did I do wrong? One day I found the courage to ask him why I'd get punished as well when I didn't commit mistakes. He looked at me and smiled, that smile of him that made my balls shrink, and told me, very composed: 'Oh, so you think this is some punishment? You didn't understand anything'. That day he hurt me so much that I cried, and the he rubbed salt into my wounds.'

'Well, pain made me faint. The only thing I know's that I never questioned his actions again.'

'Now I understand and, yes, what he was doing was tempering my nerves. There are many occasions in which a Shadow will have to pluck up courage and take anything they throw at him, 'till past the point of endurance. But... That doesn't play down the fact that he's the biggest bastard who's walked on this city.'

Caradhar listened with attention to his companion's story; somehow, he reminded him a bit of himself... He rested his cheek on the back displayed under him and kissed it.

'Pity I didn't meet you then.' Sül smiled bitterly. 'You could've erased my scars.'

'Destroying something so beautiful? I would have never done it.'

The Shadow cocked his head again. He knew he wasn't joking, and the thought made him shudder. Serious, he faced him, depriving him of his current entertainment.

'And that's the only thing you like about me? he asked the gifted.

'I told you that's not the case; I had my eyes set on you since before you even showed me your face.'

'I believed... Well, I always saw you under Darial... I though my arse would be safe...'

Caradhar frowned. He said, impassively:

'If you want to sleep with me, that's how things are; if you pretend to change positions, I suggest you look for someone else.'

The red-haired elf lay on his side, turning his back to his partner. The latter didn't think twice: he embraced him from behind and snuggled up against him, sinking his nose into his hair.

'Are you stupid? he whispered. 'I was a virgin down there, you fucking bastard: of course I don't want to look for someone else.'

Caradhar relaxed in his arms and fell asleep. Sül spent a long time listening to his breath; that quiet sound could impose over the racket that came through the walls.

He had been desiring him for so long... Almost since the first time he saw him, in someone else's arms, with his cold look that expressed: 'It's true, you're on top of me, but although you think you possess me, I don't belong to anyone'. His sexual experiences had been limited to sporadic encounters with female elves at the Ditch; he had never slept with a male, and never thought he would do it that way...

And, definitely, he never imagined he would do it with him. He had resisted as much as possible, trying to keep his distance, to stick to his mission...

There was no turning back; he had disobeyed his neidokesh's most categorical order: not becoming intimate with his protégé. An offence that could cost him dear if he was discovered.

But for the time being, he wouldn't think about it. He would hold his attractive companion tightly in his arms; he would breath his scent, so sweet, and enjoy the touch of his perfect skin...

And that's what he did. He even indulged himself in falling asleep for a few minutes, embracing Caradhar.

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