On One Lonely Sovvan-night

The first rays of silvery moonlight filtered through the window on Sovvan-night as Vanyel Ashkevron sat on his bed at Herald's Collegium, holding the newly-sharpened razor blade to the pale skin on his wrist. He stared at the blue-green veins traversing his arm, visible through the thin layer of skin. His hands shook as the razor hovered just above his arm, duty warring with his emotions. He had responsibilities here. He was the most powerful Herald-Mage in Valdemar, invaluable to the kingdom. But... Tylendel... His sense of duty won out, and Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron set the razor blade on the bookshelf next to his bed. Gods, 'Lendel, what would you think if you saw me now?

He shifted on the soft, white-covered bed, laying back on his pillow so that his ebony hair fell in a wash of silk around his pale, slender face, his ice-blue eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. His body sprawled carelessly over the cotton sheets, his snowy Herald's uniform sliding along the graceful lines of a body a sculptor would have been proud to have created. He would have been the perfect picture of an angel, if not for the soul-wrenching pain and lost innocence in those otherwise-blank frost-blue eyes.

It's been sixteen years, and still I can't forget...

Memories rose unbidden in his mind. Him and Tylendel laughing, talking, playing music... Making love..... He rolled over on the bed, burying his face in the pillow as salty tears began to trickle down his cheeks. 'Lendel, 'Lendel, I want to see you so much. I can't live without you, don't you understand? I'm already dead; Van died with you, only Herald-Mage Vanyel Ashkevron, Shadowstalker, Demonsbane is left...

***

Tylendel's heart wrenched with pain as he stood in Vanyel's room, watching his lover sob his grief into the sodden pillow. "This has gone on long enough." A smoky mist filled the space beside him, and he turned to gaze at the presence that now stood beside him. It was a man, or at least, it appeared to be at first glance. The figure was dressed in Herald's clothing, of a white so brilliant it shone like a flame. And the eyes were pools of a sapphire so deep and unflawed that one could lose themselves like a single droplet of water in a vast and calming sea. But there was sadness reflected in those unearthly eyes, sadness and a wisdom that transcended human mortality. He radiated Power, and had the visage of a god.

The Shadow-Lover glanced at Tylendel. "What do you wish done?" he asked in a rich, melodic tenor.

"Let me see him," Tylendel said, entreatingly. "Not in a dream, but here, in his room. Let me comfort him, just for one night." He held his breath, waiting for a response.

Death frowned and closed his eyes. "It is unprecedented for one who has joined the spirit world to become flesh in his original body," the Shadow-Lover replied contemplatively.

"'Lendel... Oh, gods, 'Lendel, why did you have to leave me?" Vanyel looked up, his face a tortured mask of pain and grief.

Tylendel whirled to face Death, whose eyes were closed in silent pain. "LET ME GO TO HIM!" he demanded harshly. "You can't let him do this to himself!"

Death's eyes opened slowly, his face solemn as he stared at the Herald. "One night only," he replied quietly, stepping into the shadows, disappearing in the soft cloud of obsidian haze that appeared to engulf him.

Tylendel watched his flesh solidify as he began to stride across the room toward his beloved.

Vanyel sat up and whipped around as footfalls began to near the side of his bed. His rooms were sealed with Mage-protections!! No one should have been able to enter!!! He froze as his grief-mazed mind registered Tylendel's image striding toward him, grief and longing that matched his own in his lover's sable eyes.

"Vanyel-ashke?" The worried compassion in Tylendel's eyes shook the last of the shock from his mind, and he broke free of the paralysis that held him, hurling himself into his lover's arms with an inarticulate cry. He clasped Tylendel fiercely to him, clutching the Herald with desperation and burying his head in his shoulder, sobbing with relief as the pent-up feelings inside him were released in a churning flood of emotion.

Tylendel gently stroked his hair, seating himself on the bed with Vanyel cradled safely in his lap.

Vanyel thought he was about to burst, his relief and joy at seeing his lover overwhelming any other coherent thought. "H- how?" he stuttered, lifting his head and brushing the last remaining tears from his eyes with trembling fingers. "'Lendel, how did you get here?"

Tylendel smiled with a radiance that warmed Vanyel's heart and turned his insides to mush. "the Shadow-Lover," he whispered as Vanyel's eyes widened. "He let me come back. He was reluctant, but the state you were in convinced Him that you needed this." The smile turned sad. "It's only for one night, Vanyel," the Herald said softly. "I'll always be with you in spirit, but one night of comfort is all I can offer you for this life, ke'chara."

Vanyel gazed up at him, and a sad smile graced his own features. "It's enough, just to see you again, ashke," he replied. "I'm glad... so glad you came..." He reached up, ever so gently, to brush back the golden curls at 'Lendel's temple. Tylendel smiled back and brought his own hand up to tuck the silky silver-streaked midnight locks of Vanyel's hair behind his ear, moving his hand back to cup Vanyel's head in his soft, strong hands. Their mouths met and meshed in a tender, loving kiss, and their minds intertwined as Vanyel opened a channel of rapport through their lifebond. Their clothes seemed to melt off as their longing and boundless love sent them spinning into shared ecstasy.

***

Vanyel woke the next morning to find 'Lendel lounging languidly next to him, head propped on his hand as he stared at Vanyel, a smile stretching his handsome features. Vanyel couldn't help but return the smile. They must have talked for hours last night. It felt eerily like their first night together. But...

"Why are you still here?" he asked in confusion. I would've thought you'd have left by now."

Tylendel grinned. "Without saying goodbye?" His expression softened. "Vanyel-ashke, you mean more to me than I can ever say. Take care of yourself." The Herald slid of the bed with a dancer's grace. The lines of his body began to flicker and he grew fainter until he was nothing but a shadowy figure. He reached out a transparent hand toward Vanyel as the last of his body disappeared and only his voice was left, the warm, comforting tones echoing throughout the room.

"Zhai'helleva, ashke."

Vanyel smiled at the air where his beloved had stood moments before. "Zhai'helleva," he whispered.

The Herald-Mage turned to his window and opened the shutters, letting the morning sunlight stream through the glass panes as he gazed out over the Collegium grounds. The empty gouge in his heart was by no means healed, but it no longer ached with its former intensity, nor was his mind so ravaged and torn apart. He could go on living, for now. And when his life did end, Tylendel would be there, waiting, to take him into his arms again.

***

Tylendel watched his lover prepare for the day, a tender smile touching his face. Vanyel strode about purposefully, a happy, wistful smile stretching his handsome features.

Tylendel then turned his attention to other matters, the view in front of him shifting as he watched a young boy dash through the grass barefoot, dodging everything in his path, mop of unruly blond curls flung wildly about by the breeze as he dashed toward home.

"Stefen, hurry up! There's someone here who wants to see you!" a blond, slightly plump woman with grey-streaked blond hair called from the steps, a fond smile on her lips as her sixteen-year-old son paused at the doorstep, panting, hands resting on his knees as he caught his breath.

The youth looked up inquisitively. "Oh?" he queried. "Who?"

A handsome older woman stepped from around the door. "I am called Breda," she said cordially, extending her hand. "I've been asked to test your playing. Everyone here seems to think you're a talented young man. I have to say, from what I've seen of your compositions I'd have to agree. Would you be so kind as to play for me?" she asked, holding out his lute.

Stefen took the instrument and launched into "Windrider Unchained," the clear notes of his voice mixing with the strains he plucked on his lute. As the last of the melody died away, the strange woman applauded.

"Young man, you have both the Gift and the Talent. I would like it if you would come with me and receive proper training," she said warmly. "We would welcome you at the Bardic Collegium in Haven."

***

Tylendel smiled and let the vision fade as the stunned young boy offered a shaky smile and enthusiastic agreement to Bard Breda's suggestion. Yes, Stefen was coming along very nicely indeed...

Author's Notes:

*author pulls herself out of the fic, couching on sap and toweling the angst out of her hair* Hi, mina-san! Hope you enjoyed that. I was originally going to stop with Van and 'Lendel, and leave the story a lot more angsty, but then Vanyel objected, since his life was so dark and depressing without me making it worse. If you have any suggestions on revisions, write a review! If you want to lavish me with complements or tell me it sucked and I should never write again for the LOVE of GOD, review! Don't give a damn? Review anyway!! Constructive criticism is appreciated. All flames will be deflected by that cool shield of Firesong's that's centered in the Place between Gates. ^___^ Ja, minna! AND R+R, ONEGAI!!!!!!!!