Re: Land of the Morning Star [Menel & Laven]

by **Menel** Tue Jul 21, 2015 10:04 pm

The swordsman exercised a great amount of self control staying still while Laven touched his hips. Stroking the exposed skin above the rise of his jeans. Almost it was enough to distract Menel from the other man's description of the clothes he had in mind. A ballgown? Menel's imagination simply wouldn't stretch that far, but Laven's tone was entirely serious. Was he imagining the slight stress in Laven's words when he said assets? Menel started to peak down to see if the elf was teasing him but he stopped breathing entirely instead.

He wondered if it was necessary to measure an inseam for a ballgown.

He wasn't adverse to pink but if he was almost certain he'd never be able to fight in a skirt.

He felt sweat trickle down his spine.

Laven stood up quickly and Menel breathed again, his blue eyes a little wide and rampant confusion clear on his face. "I... have to have a lot of my pants tailored." His tone was a little low and very quiet when he spoke. "But these will be fine... you know... over a skirt or something."

The elf chuckled, kissing him on the cheek and Menel only felt more bewildered than he had a moment ago. It was an absolute certainty that he would never understand this man. A thousand years could pass by and Menel knew that he wouldn't be able to keep up with Laven any better than he did now. Idly Laven waved at him and Menel shook his head. "You were teasing me about the dress weren't you?" Menel almost sounded irked but there was to much amusement in the thought for him to actually be irritated about it.

He might actually have put it on if Laven had handed it to him.

Almost in answer Laven showed him a pair of shirts and since Menel didn't have a preference he accepted the green one. It was soft to the touch and he pulled it on with ease. The tee shirt did little to hide Menel's impressive physique, and in some ways only served to enhance it. It might have been a little small, but if it was, it was comfortably so. Experimentally Menel rotated a shoulder and shrugged flashing Laven a little smile. The green color of it seemed to subtly shift the color of his eyes making them look less like a summer sky and more like a fall one. "Fits pretty good, what do you think?"

by **Laven** Tue Jul 21, 2015 10:38 pm

Laven began laughing again, shaking his head as he held up the shirts for inspection. "Of course I was teasing you. That's what you get for just allowing others to make your choices for you, Menel." When the swordsman picked the green shirt Laven smiled with satisfaction, watching the way the material clung to muscles in just the right way. The shirt hadn't been made for him, no, but it suited him well enough and if he wanted to wear his armor over it there wouldn't be any snugness because of the thin material.

"I think you look fantastic in the clothing I made. Not to mention in my room." It was true, Menel looked good here. Fit in the household nicely, even if a lot of that was the polite nature of a man being a guest. Laven bit his tongue before he said anything else, however. Instead he closed the gap between them and smoothed his hands down Menel's new shirt, adjusting it with tiny tugs. "Keep it, it looks good on you."

Laven stood there for a moment, a bemused smile on his face as he looked Menel over before he snapped out of his revere on what the human would look like sprawled asleep in his bed instead of an uncomfortable rooftop. Thoughts for a later time.

"I promised you those photos, right? make yourself comfortable and I'll go find them for you."

by **Menel** Tue Jul 21, 2015 11:00 pm

The swordsman shrugged again. So long as it fit him well he'd never really thought that much about his clothes. Most shops he went into the people were more than happy to show him around and point out things that he looked good in. All he had to do was check to make sure it fit and that they weren't trying to get him to buy something that was more expensive.

With the green shirt on he did match the room a bit, or at least he fit it more than he had without it. In a way with his tanned skin which his lack of shirt and low-riding jeans suggesting that was the natural color of his body, he looked something like a flower himself with a tuft of soft white fluff on the top. "Good."

Menel smiled, letting Laven run hands over the shirt, fixing the way it had fallen so that it lay correctly. "Really?" Menel blinked in surprise. He didn't really want to take the shirt for free but... it was a nice shirt and it was hard to say no. "Thank you."

If Laven kept up this generosity he was going to have a very hard time paying the elf back. Menel tugged gently on the side of the shirt himself, his expression softly saying more than his words that he appreciated the gift.

"I promised you those photos, right? make yourself comfortable and I'll go find them for you."

The swordsman blinked and brightened like the sun rising. "Yes! I'll wait right here!" His eyes followed Laven for a moment then slid over the room.

Then again.

There wasn't a single chair in the room. Menel's eyes flickered toward the window which held a comfortable looking seat which was unfortunately occupied by books. Which left the bed. Menel sat down and sighed comfortably. The bed was actually much more inviting than it even looked which was a feat considering how inviting it looked. Which reminded Menel that he hadn't exactly gotten a lot of sleep last night.

Pillows bounced slightly as Menel let himself fall onto the bed, sprawling out and arching his back with a wiggle to make himself comfortable. When was the last time he'd been in a bed this comfortable? He wasn't even sure he'd ever had a bed this nice. Most hotels he could afford had a thin mattress over a hard wood frame, and those were the beds that he was even willing to risk laying in overnight.

This... this was heaven. A warm bath, good breakfast, better company, and the softest bed he could imagine. Close enough anyway.

by **Laven** Tue Jul 21, 2015 11:34 pm

It was quick work to vanish down the stairwell and into Revina's study. The book of photos was where it always was on top of a stack of letters. Revina claimed to have a hardened heart from her life, but she relished her memories. And relished in getting Laven to look at them with her. Sighing and glad he managed to dodge his cousin's probing questions he grasped the book and escaped from the room.

With silence borne from habit versus any thought to sneaking up on Menel Laven climbed back up the stairs, pausing at the entry way and drinking in the sight before him.

Menel was sprawled out on his bed, shirt riding up and exposing a hand's breadth of skin as he seemed to have made himself comfortable. Closing his door with a soft click Laven made his way to the side of the bed closest to Menel, smiling down at the prone form. "I forgot to mention the bed as a perk of coming with me this morning. But it seems you discovered that fact for yourself."

With a shoo-ing motion Laven sat himself down next to Menel, offering the black leather clad book to him with a grimace. "As promised. You look at this, I think I'll take a look at some paperwork Revvie left me." There was the little stack sitting neatly on his table, waiting for Laven to read over and learn what his next jobs would be. Laven hoped for some lighter work, information gathering instead of assassination. His mind could use the break. And it was better than staring at all those old memories once again.

Swinging his legs up onto the soft mattress and arranging himself so he was unlikely to be prodded by Menel's sword Laven tucked himself close to the swordsman, draping one arm comfortably over the now clothed shoulders as he settled the papers into his lap.

by **Menel** Wed Jul 22, 2015 12:08 am

The light click of the door betrayed Laven's presence, drawing Menel's head up lazily. Now that he was laying down he didn't really want to get back up again. He grinned in a way that seemed both a bit guilty and not at all remorseful. "Sorry, I really couldn't resist laying down." That much at least he was a bit embarrassed by. As much as he knew that he should have resisted the temptation... Well it had been to good to pass up.

He shifted slightly to make room for Laven, still more than half laying down as the other man made himself comfortable. Eagerly he accepted the album, laying it down and opening it to the first page. The swordsman glanced at the paperwork but nodded. "Alright." He'd sort of half hoped that Laven would look through the album with him, but he wasn't going to complain.

Nor was he going to ask about the paperwork. Either it was for his work as a tailor, or his work as an assassin. One way Menel wouldn't understand, and the other... the swordsman didn't understand either.

The first photo was of a little elvish boy with dark brown hair standing beside an elvish girl in a wheel chair. For a very long moment Menel didn't recognize who it was, and it was almost as he start to turn the page that he realized that he did recognize the expression in the boy's eyes. Laven's crimson eyes. Menel slid a finger over the stoic expression imprinted on the paper.

Other pictures followed, all of the same two children. Pictures of them as they slept curled together in the same bed. Pictures of them wrestling, Revina often on top of Laven, always giving as good as she got. He smiled. They'd grown up like siblings. He couldn't help but feel a little envious of that.

There weren't really any of either of the children with adults, though someone was obviously taking the photos. Someone who had cared enough about them to take the pictures, but who hadn't thought to take a picture with them. The changes came subtly. The children got older, happier. From the story in the pictures it seemed almost like they'd come to this place together and that they were happier for it. First Revina then Laven began to pass into those awkward teen years. Yet as their elvish grace dictated or perhaps the photos were simply generous... it did not seem quite as awkward as Menel remembered his own teen years to be.

Smiles turned to dismissive expressions at the camera, rebellious clothing and Menel found himself lingering over a picture of Laven shaving Revina's head free of her hair.

There was a family in these photos. Years passing by in silence. Pain and happiness that pictures couldn't capture because they couldn't be there for everything. By the time he reached that picture of Laven cutting Revina's hair Menel almost felt an interloper. As if he was looking into their lives where he didn't really belong. But Laven had shared some of that history with him already.

Perhaps in the end some small part of his feelings came from the fact that he knew that Laven knew perhaps even less about him, than he did about the elf.

He turned the page again and half choked on a laugh. He'd promised himself that he wouldn't make fun...

by **Laven** Wed Jul 22, 2015 3:49 pm

The reports had been stacked haphazardly by Revina, so Laven spent a few moments tidying them and making sure each page was facing the correct way before he began to read. He did his best to ignore Menel as he discovered the way he and Rev had looked as children. Some of those memories were surreal, seeing the way they had been as children compared to now that the two had grown.

The first slip of paper was almost a joke to Laven. A merchant wanting to steal a competitor's recipe for healing tonics? Laven wasn't a thief, though his fingers were quick enough that he could have kept himself fed if he was ever forced to be homeless. Laven made a mental note to talk to Revina about this one. If someone wanted this formula so badly they would have to either request the rival's death or be satisfied with what Laven could discover though snooping. A simple enough job once those details were ironed out, so Laven left the paper on his night stand before glancing over Menel's shoulder to see where he was in the photo book.

There he was, dark hair pinned away from his face as he took a pair of barber's shears to Revina's head. His cousin's grin was terrible, and she was making a rude gesture at their grandfather. He had been amused by the whole ordeal, asking Revina if this was her way of announcing she planned to enlist in Maquina's military. Laven huffed out a soft laugh at the photo before shaking his head and returning to his work.

And just as he was skimming the top of the page he heard Menel make a sound that was clearly strangled laughter. With eyes cast upwards Laven leaned in again to see what had caused this first outburst of mirth.

"Which one are you... Ah. Of course." There was teenage Laven, arms crossed and an embarrassed scowl on his face as Revina clung to his side. One of her arms was up in the air and the other was slung over Laven's hunched shoulders. She clearly looked pleased with the situation, even as Laven had been completely uncomfortable.

"My grandfather had been slowing down, feeling his age. And Revina thought making him take our photo like he used to when we were growing up would bring him some cheer." Laven shook his head and rested his cheek against Menel's shoulder. "I was mad, I had planned to spend the day out and looking for trouble. Or at least that was what I told her." Laven looked down at the photo with mixed feelings. "That woman could read me like a book even back then. Siblings are like that I suppose." Laven glanced up at Menel and smiled. "Do you have any? Close family, that is."

by **Menel** Wed Jul 22, 2015 4:25 pm

There was more than a little guilt flashing across Menel's face when the elf noticed his poor attempt to contain the flash of laughter that the picture he was looking at had caused. Laven just looked so... embarrassed. There was even a bit of light color on the elf's cheek though Revina didn't seem to care at all that he was. She seemed in this picture a lot like the woman he'd met. A lot more so than that withdrawn little girl he'd seen before.

As Menel had suspected, there was more to the picture than the photo itself. The swordsman subtly shifted his posture so that Laven could lean comfortably against him. The other man was warm. Surprisingly familiar for someone that he had known for such a short time.

Somehow he didn't expect the question. He considered it for a moment, the mirth slowly draining from his face. "I don't have any siblings, or cousins or anything like that." He smiled just a little and touched the edge of Laven's face in the photo. The swordsman looked up, and gave a little half-roll of his shoulders. "I never knew my father at all. So it's possible I have some half-siblings or other family out there somewhere."

The skies in his eyes darkened slightly. "My mother... I was very close to her I think. I remember her singing to me, and holding me. But when I was very young she disappeared." His shoulders shifted again and the smile had slowly faded from his lips. "She probably died back then, but I've never really known what happened to her."

by **Laven** Wed Jul 22, 2015 5:28 pm

Laven knew as soon as he felt Menel's posture go from relaxed to stiff that he had asked an unwittingly painful question. It only took a quick look to see the way those bright summer sky eyes became roiling with storm clouds when he spoke of his mother in the past tense.

"I'm sorry," He murmured, bringing the hand that had been draped loosely over Menel's shoulder to rest against his arm instead. Slowly Laven ran his hand up and down in soothing strokes, eyes straying back to the photo that had caused him to ask an apparently insensitive question. "She must have loved you very much." It seemed like an empty platitude, but there were very few mothers that wouldn't have loved their children. At least that's what Laven hoped.

They sat in silence for a moment before Laven spoke, a sort of wistful sigh in his voice.

"I never knew my parents. Supposedly I was very sad when they left me here as a child but I don't have a single memory of either of them." Laven took his head from Menel's shoulders and rested their foreheads together briefly before pulling back and smiling into Menel's eyes. "You have good memories of her, cherish those. Don't let the thought of her being gone from your life lessen the love there."

by **Menel** Wed Jul 22, 2015 5:47 pm

Laven's fingers comforted him. There were times when Menel had been younger that he'd dreamed of finding his mother, or at least finding out what had happened to her. He had to little really to go on though, and since he had never known his father at all, there was no one left to tell him what she had been like beyond the few memories he had of her. Memories of sitting in her lap. In a place that felt warm and secure with long black hair that fell all around him like a curtain. A voice that sang softly a song he had never heard since.

"I think she did." He remembered feeling loved. Feeling safe. He remembered loving her in a way that still ached like something missing from his bones. Even though he was a grown man now he found himself sometimes longing for some scrap of her. Something more than the smell of the night scented with something he could not name and memories that could not give her face to him.

Laven smiled, reminding him to cherish the memories he had and Menel nodded, a small smile ghosting it's way across his lips. "I do. I play them over and over in my mind so that I won't forget what I remember of her. I might not be able to remember her face, or very much at all, but what I have is good."

The swordsman glanced down for a moment then back up with just a touch of embarrassment. "I still look sometimes, for someone who knew her, but it's hard to track down someone after nearly a decade and a half." When he had been very young, at some of the hardest points in his life he wondered if she had simply abandoned him. Somehow he had never been able to reconcile the love he remembered with the idea that he was unwanted. Something had happened all those years ago, but it wasn't likely that he'd ever learn what it was. Suddenly the swordsman chuckled and gave Laven a little wink.

"Even for someone with my tracking skills." Which reminded him of another person he was supposed to be tracking down. He'd have to talk to Laven about it later. If Laven knew of some of the slavers in the area perhaps he could help Menel narrow down where the woman was, or at least where she had been.

by **Laven** Fri Jul 24, 2015 12:50 am

Menel's sudden laugh and wink brought a smile to Laven's face. It was good that the younger man could realize that even if there was no hope to meeting his mother, he could still love the memories of her. "I'm sure when I get a chance to see these tracking skills I'll find them very impressive." He quipped, returning the wink before settling himself against Menel more comfortably and lifting up his paperwork once again to at least attempt to browse them.

"So what do you think? Have these tarnished your mental image of me yet?" Laven's tone was joking and he couldn't stop himself from getting distracted and smiling down at his cousin's flirtatious face and his scowling one. It was strange to see himself with such dark hair. Years of silver and lavender had cemented what he looked like now in his mind's eye. The teenager frowning up from the photograph was a stranger in a way. Someone he had once been but couldn't be any longer. In many ways he would always be glad his grandfather had stepped in though, and saved him from what would have been a much worse life. If Laven had even been able to survive alone.

Which did raise the question...

"Menel," Laven began, his tone of voice casual but also caring. This might be a dangerous area, seeing how his mother had hit a sore spot already. But honestly Laven was curious. And only one way would get him answers. "It sounds like we have a fairly similar start in life. Were you raised by benevolent grandparents as well, then?"

by **Menel** Fri Jul 24, 2015 1:47 am

Menel let his eyes fall back to the book of photo's, flipping to the next page. He couldn't lie and say that he wasn't at least a little jealous of the bond he saw forged between Laven and his cousin. So close that they were more siblings than they were anything else. Laven himself said as much. Perhaps because he had grown up without much of a family, or perhaps it was simply something that was a part of him, Menel had always had a distant longing for a family of his own. People to love and cherish.

The swordsman smiled. "Not at all, I never would have guessed that your hair was this dark... but it's kind of amazing. I feel like I get to see a little bit of how you grew up." At least now he knew why Laven and Revina were so close.

"It sounds like we have a fairly similar start in life. Were you raised by benevolent grandparents as well, then?"

"No..." The answer came quickly, smoothly but Menel found himself pausing over the book again, looking at another photo but he wasn't really looking at it. He shifted subtly. "There was only ever just her and me and when she was gone it was just me. People here keep records of births and deaths, filed away in hospitals and such; but I was born in Vida and they don't keep track as well there."

He might have stopped there, but Laven had seemed curious. Considering how much of his own life the assassin had shared it seemed more than fair that Menel share some of his as well. "I might have survived living in the woods actually. Even as young as I was. I don't remember it well to be honest but I know that eventually someone found me in the woods and took me to my first city."

Menel glanced up, offering a smile to Laven that didn't really last. "I saw my first fireworks there. I mean, I was actually pretty lucky. The one who bought me just wanted a hard worker and I'm pretty good at that sort of thing." Menel flushed and glanced down at the picture. "When I was thirteen or so I got away and by then I was old enough to take care of myself. Big enough to pass for older working for caravans and such so I could make my way home again."

He'd gone back to that cabin like its location was etched into his memory. He could still remember walking back into the house. Dust gathered up on everything. Not even raccoon had managed to find their way inside. Underneath what had been his mothers bed he'd found his swords. Tucked away without a single explanation, without a single trace of her aside from them. Menel's fingers itched to touch one of them, to reassure himself of a weight that he knew was there but instead he thumbed the book he was looking at. "I wish I had someone to introduce you to, who could tell you stories about me when I was younger. Or show you pictures." He smiled a little. "I guess you have to settle for my horrible story-telling though."

It was an old story, one he could tell without the weight of history weighing the words down. Yet like the photos it couldn't tell Laven everything. Couldn't say how lonely that boy had been in a city he didn't belong in. Or express the rush Menel had felt the first time he'd joined a caravan.

by **Laven** Thu Jul 30, 2015 2:10 pm

It was simple, to be quiet as Menel slowly told him about his childhood. Simple but not easy, not for Laven. He wanted nothing more than to gather the younger man into his arms and soothe the perceived hurts that he had unwittingly asked Menel to expose. As soon as the word 'bought' had slipped out of Menel's mouth Laven's eyes had narrowed. Whether or not his former owner had not been unkind mattered very little to an assassin who had just broken down a section of a slave ring the night before. Though that did confirm Laven's suspicions about Menel. A traveler but originally from Vida.

"You weren't branded though? Small favors at least, you've done quite well to keep yourself alive and fed since then." Laven's tone was mild, though the hand that had been resting against Menel's arm tightened slightly in concern. Laven's brand on his wrist had been a -mostly- informed choice. A way of proving his loyalty and deterring suspicions from himself. It would not do to be harassed by the populace while chasing down a mark. But for someone like Menel, who seemed to slip back and forth between continents in search of work a brand would be infinitely more dangerous. If he was, Laven hoped it was hidden easily.

Imaging a young Menel struggling to stay afloat, and then beginning to find his niche in living the ever changing life of the road wasn't terribly hard. Clearly his armor was meant for a land of magic and blades versus technology and firearms. Much better for protecting oneself from vagabonds and raiders. Clearly Menel thrived in that environment, though imagining what it would entail was as far as Laven's brain could grasp. Living your entire life within cities was all he had ever known.

"Your story telling is certainly not horrible, Menel." Laven assured, resuming the comforting motions of his hand along Menel's arm. "And while it would be nice to have the insight into your past from a third party... Wishing won't change it. But thank you for telling me." He smiled and returned to his paperwork, giving Menel the illusion of privacy by focusing on something else.

Thoughts and imagined scenes of a younger Menel with his snow white hair and swords that were much too big for a youth were still vividly playing in the back of his head when Laven began reading the next contract. An assassination, high in risk from the price being offered for completion. And from the Assassin's Guild no less. As bone weary as Laven was from his last job there was a certain amount of pride in knowing that the guild he was not a member of still sent some of their more dangerous contracts to him. They would take a large chunk of the money rewarded as a fee, but Revina must have worked out a deal. Perhaps what they were taking was going towards what the cousins owed the guild. It was a large price to pay to make sure the pair was under no one's thumbs.

And then Laven's brain stuttered to a stop, reading the list of known names of his target. He felt cold, seeping from his gut to the base of his skull. A swordsman, known for crossing between land masses. A heathen. Wielding a pair of long swords. Wanted by a private party, represented by someone who had listed only their first name. Through the ice in his head and the sudden spike of anxiety that was shredding his insides, Laven heard himself speak. Marveled at how calm his own voice was, the concerned tremor mostly hidden.

"Menel... Who is Michael?"

by **Menel** Thu Jul 30, 2015 2:44 pm

Tactfully Menel didn't correct Laven. He had been branded, but in Vida not in this land. For all that he continued to help forward the cause of preservation the memory of that branding was a less than pleasant one. Considering the mark on Laven's wrist it was perhaps better if the elf did not know of his own brand much less his subtle work for Vida's cause. Laven didn't strike him as someone with a cause of his own but considering how often the elf surprised him... well it wouldn't be much of a surprise if the assassin did a lot of things that Menel didn't know about.

Laven's fingers tightened slightly on his arm, then the other man touched him gently. Repeating a motion which the swordsman found comforting. For him those memories were far away, and he did not let himself think of them to deeply. He had no wish to remember how he had earned the wealth of scars that touched his back, or the particulars of how he had become so skilled in the art of household chores.

He flushed lightly at the other man's complements, blue eyes flickering down somewhat in modesty. The swordsman let Laven return to his paperwork, drawing himself out of the distant mindset that had come with retelling part of his history. It wasn't so hard with Laven's photo album in front of him though there were only a few more pages of photo's left.

Menel had just reached the first of the blank pages and turned back to the beginning when Laven's voice cut through the silence.

"Menel... Who is Michael?"

For just a moment Menel looked up at Laven in confusion. For just a second the question didn't make sense to him. Not over who Michael was, but over why Laven knew to say it to him. Just the name brought forth memories of the man. Memories that cut into Menel's mind like the sharp edge of a knife. It wasn't an uncommon name, but to know to say it to him? ...Where had Laven heard that name?

It wouldn't be hard for Laven to see it. See the flicker of confusion turn to something like raw pain. There was no other person that Laven could be talking about, but how? The pain turned to defeat, to guilt that was no less painful. "He was..." Menel's voice stuttered uncertainly. "He was a murderer. But... he..."

He couldn't admit it so quickly. Couldn't speak the words that would make the memory in his mind a reality that Laven knew. It didn't matter that Laven was an assassin, in that moment all he was to Menel was someone who cared about him. Someone untouched by the past that burned him. The swordsman let out a breath, turning his eyes away from Laven because if there was any judgement in those crimson eyes he didn't want to see it. Couldn't bear it if he did. "He's dead. I killed him two years ago." Such quiet words. He stared down at that solemn picture of Laven beside his cousin in a wheelchair. He wanted to leave, to go before... before Laven could hate him as much as he hated himself for what a moment of anger had wrought.

"How... how do you even know that name?"

by **Laven** Thu Jul 30, 2015 3:38 pm

"He's dead. I killed him two years ago."

Laven was suddenly struck with the unstoppable desire to move, so he did. Untangling himself from Menel's side and pacing back and forth along the length of the room. Each step was silent but the sudden tension in his shoulders was clear as day. Laven was still holding the papers in his hand, mind whirling like a windstorm as he tried to come to terms with what seemed to be his new status as the god's punching bag. Or perhaps not so new, seeing what life had given Laven thus far.

"If he's dead than you have made one of his acquaintances very angry with you." he managed after he realized he had begun to speed up his pacing, breath coming quicker as he made no attempt to calm the pounding in his chest. The fact that Menel had apparently murdered this man meant very little to Laven, who's hands were as red as his eyes when it came to the blood he had spilled. The guilt in Menel's voice had been noted and tucked away. A subject to look over at another time. If there was another time.

Finally breaking himself from the cycle of stalking around his rooms, Laven turned and stared Menel in the face, the paper with the swordsman's description held out for Menel to take. "It's less a question about how I know the name and how this ended up being my newest contract." Laven's face was closed off, a mask of solemn interest. But his eyes showed his anxiety and his worry.

by **Menel** Thu Jul 30, 2015 4:01 pm

It... it hurt.

It hurt more than he would ever admit when Laven pulled away from him. He felt it like a strike to his chest. As though the elf was abandoning him. It was no less than what Menel felt he deserved but it didn't hurt any less for that fact.

The elf paced in the small space of his room while Menel sat up, trying to gather himself mentally as well as physically. He stared at the floor, trying not to remember it. Trying not to live that moment all over again but it was so fresh in his mind. As if it was just yesterday. He could still remember the smell of blood. The feel of it drying to quickly on his hands. The way he could almost taste it. It had been so easy, harder somehow than he had expected it to be, but easy too.

His eyes came up in surprise. The swordsman knew all of Michael's relatives, but he understood even before Laven spelled it out that one of them wanted him dead. What other way would Laven - an assassin - know Michael's name? It all fit together like some sort of horrible puzzle. He stood, rising up woodenly to take the folder. He even looked down at it for a moment but he didn't see anything.

This... this was so wrong. He didn't want to fight Laven. Not this way. Not if Laven was really trying to kill him. He looked at that anxiety and worry and just felt... tired. One of them wanted him dead. One of them was willing to pay for it. To stain someone's hands with his blood. Then he would be someone else's guilt, someone else's burden.

"You should do it." The words slipped from his lips and he didn't know why they did. Laven didn't feel badly about all those who had slipped away under his knife. A tear slipped from Menel's eye and he accepted that thought. The thought that he might die. That tomorrow he would be just another of those that covered the delicate fingers he'd held tenderly.

"I deserve it. I should have died two years ago." Unconsciously he lifted a hand to his chest, touching a scar that didn't really exist. He'd been so lucky that someone had found him, bleeding, dying. They'd saved his life and he didn't even have a scar to mark the occasion.

by **Laven** Thu Jul 30, 2015 6:44 pm

The words that came out of Menel's mouth caused Laven's head to snap up from where he had been staring at the floor. "Excuse me?" he queried, red eyes narrowing until they were slits. Anger and anxiety were waging war inside of Laven, and looking at Menel's face, looking at the resignation and pain and tears as if he had decided he wasn't worth living. Wasn't worth what little he and Laven had only just begun to form together.

It was horrifying and soul crushing.

Anger destroyed the terrible fear inside of him, turned Laven from a wraith to a wolf in an instant. Teeth bared so Menel could see the slightly sharper than human's canine teeth, Laven was in his space, pushing at the larger man with his hands. The rest of the dossiers fell to the floor, forgotten and unimportant in this moment.

"You come to me, beg me not to kill, Are willing to sacrifice everything to make sure I don't murder a bloody child slaver, but your life is worth nothing because you managed to kill someone two years ago?" Laven's ears were flat against his skull, and he shoved Menel again, pushing him back towards the bed. In the back of his mind Laven knew he should be comforting his... whatever the term for what the two of them were to each other was. Knew he would be better with his arms around Menel, promising him that he was worth living. But the defeat in those blue eyes was too much. Too much for someone who had given up once before.

"Do you think so little of me then, Menel? Should I beg for a knife beneath my ribs? Surely my life must be worth so much less than yours. One murder versus countless." He was beginning to panic again, knew he was lashing out at Menel and beating himself up at the same time because he was scared.

So he snarled again, full of hurt and tense with a sense of danger. Pushed at Menel's chest once again, hands over the part of his chest Menel had touched with sorrow. There was noticeably less heat in the gesture this time, and Laven left his hands over the spot, eyes downcast and breath shallow.

"I'm not going to kill you, Menel. You're worth so much more than that."

by **Menel** Thu Jul 30, 2015 7:15 pm

Laven's anger was like a living thing. It rose up slowly and then the elf unleashed it, lashing out at Menel with fury that Menel could feel.

He accepted it.

He let the anger slam into him like Laven's hands pushing him backwards. His fingers loosing the papers he held so that they were lost amid the tumble of the others. They weren't important. He didn't know the source of that rage, but he knew he deserved far worse than whatever punishment it might give him. If Laven had said yes, if he had shoved Remembrance into Menel's chest the swordsman wouldn't have even raised a hand to defend himself. What more could Laven's anger do to him?

Menel staggered back, his catching his balance once and then again when Laven shoved him harder. More tears slipped past his defenses. He couldn't argue about what he'd done. It wasn't that he saw his life as being worth less. It was... much more complicated than that. So much more complicated than he could explain in words when so much of it was simply emotions bound up in his chest.

The swordsman visibly flinched at Laven's panicked, angry question. "Of course not!" It was practically a shout in the wake of Laven's anger which seemed to be leaking away. The elf pushed at him again, but it wasn't even enough for Menel to lean back. Menel felt tears falling over his face and he simply leaned forward, hugging the elf that had pushed him back; pushed him away.

He held Laven tightly and his body shook once. "I'm sorry. Your life is worth so much Laven. So many people care about you. I care about you." He didn't know what to think, what to feel about Laven's job. He'd tried not to think about it, he couldn't in terms of what just a single moment had left him with. "I worry about you, that you'll feel like this because of what you do."

Like he deserved for death to come to him. His breathing broke and the swordsman wept. "I killed him Laven. I killed him and by the gods I wanted to. I meant for it. I was so angry... I could have done anything else. I could have broken him, I could have done anything but I stole him away from his family. From everyone that loved him."

He was sobbing helplessly. Like years ago when he'd woken up to the realization of what he'd done. He didn't talk about this, didn't tell people about the blood that stained his fingers. Didn't admit that Michael had never had a chance even with the dagger he'd wielded. That he'd truly wanted the man dead. That for a moment in his life he'd been glad, glad that Michael was dead. "I killed him, and I was... I was glad he was dead.... so glad." He couldn't breathe properly, didn't care if Laven hated him anymore.

by **Laven** Thu Jul 30, 2015 9:08 pm

"Idiot," He muttered into Menel's chest once he had been wrapped up tightly in the embrace. Tense shoulders sagged and Laven reached around to hold Menel against himself with as much strength as he had used to shove Menel away moments before. He felt the sobs echoing through Menel's chest, resting against his own. With a pained sound Laven pulled Menel closer, leaning his head against Menel's shoulder.

Laven did his best to keep them close together, let Menel weep against him as he rubbed one hand against the small of the younger man's back. Slowly urged him to sit on the bed, where Laven could envelop Menel in a tight hold around his shoulders and coax Menel to rest against his torso. Only then did he talk, the anger burned out and leaving the crackling anxiety to roam the back of Laven's mind while he attempted to soothe his lover.

"Menel, love, sweetheart. Look at me, please." Laven watched the tear stained face and stroked Menel's cheek, brushing tears away as the continued to fall.
"Do you think people don't care about you? That no one would come to your defense and claim you as a friend? That they wouldn't mourn your loss?" It seemed to be an impossible scenario from what little Laven had seen of Menel. He was cheer incarnate. Little children who had never met him reached out to be included in the swordsman's embrace. That was a kind of love, to be sure.

Gentle hands stroked and soothed and wiped away falling tears. Laven was heedless of the mess on his shirt, wet with tear marks. His eyes were on Menel, red eyes watching blue.
"Is it so hard to believe that I would be furious that you would count yourself as lesser than me?"

Laven was silent for a while, watching Menel and continuing to stroke Menel's face and shoulders. It was easy to see that the root of Menel's trepidation about Laven's profession lay here. The heart of the matter was Menel's own self-loathing.

It wasn't a stranger to Laven.

"I can't absolve you of what may have been a crime, dearheart. And I don't know if I can convince you that I've made my peace with what I do and the crimes I've committed." Menel's hurting was hurting Laven, causing him to curl himself around Menel, resting his forehead against the top of Menel's head.
"You had a right to be glad, if you felt it so strongly. Committing an action does not justify it, but sometimes terrible things must happen. And you did a terrible thing, in your mind. And in the minds of whomever set the bounty on your head. But only you can learn to accept that part of yourself and move forwards."

Lips pressed against the crown of Menel's head, Laven frowned deeply as he made a decision.

"I refuse to be the one to wield the sword of judgment against you. You've... you've become a part of my family."

by **Menel** Thu Jul 30, 2015 9:42 pm

Menel followed Laven's lead with the blind acceptance of the truly injured. He didn't care enough to fight anything that the other man did, and as pathetic as that made him feel it was a terribly small thing beside the guilt that had been brought up by Michael's name and the memories that it had forced Menel to relive. The other man was terribly good at comforting him, as if doing so came naturally to Laven, and perhaps it did.

A part of Menel expected to be judged, expected Laven to care about him less because of this. However foolish that fear it existed in his heart because of how harshly he judged himself. The elf coaxed him to look up, thumbing tears off his face even as they were replaced by new ones. He didn't see anything there, nothing but anxiety, concern. The other man's question caused more tears to slip free.

So close to that memory he couldn't help but think of the only person aside from his mother that he knew with certainty had loved him. There were not so many people that the swordsman could count as friend. He moved around to much to form permanent attachments to other people. While it was true that he got along well with everyone he met, there were none that knew him well, or much more about them than his name. His family, everyone he had ever cared about was gone.

"Perhaps a little." The addition came hesitantly. "I fight so often that I guess..."

He spent so much of his life throwing himself into one battle after another that he had largely forgotten to put much value on a life he felt guilty for living. If he'd died in the deserts far from home there weren't many who would know to mourn his loss. "I'm glad... that it is worth something to you." Somehow it made him feel like maybe it was worth something. Even if only one person would shed tears over his absence, that meant something to him.

Menel found himself wrapping his arms around Laven again. The other man's body was a warm welcome weight against him. Grounding him to this reality. "I don't know how to accept it. It sits there in the past like a constant reminder, I can remember every part of that day as though it was burned into me. All this time has passed since then and just thinking of it... It feels like it happened yesterday."

The swordsman shuddered, pushing the memories back where they belonged and holding Laven all the more tightly. He wanted to thank Laven, for everything but somehow it felt wrong to do so. Instead he lifted his head, smiling just a little. A part of Laven's family? How had he earned that distinction. "I'm honored." The quiet words ended with a small mischievous smile. "I've never had a brother, but I don't think brothers usually want to kiss their siblings as much as I want to kiss you."

He almost managed to say it without blushing.

by **Laven** Thu Jul 30, 2015 10:57 pm

"You fight so often that you forget that you have the choice to set down the seeds of friendship?" Laven murmured this gentle admonishment into Menel's hair. The fact that Laven had more work contacts than people he could whole-heartedly call friends was irrelevant, as Menel seemed convinced that he had to be on constant contact with someone to be their friend. Instead friendship was more like a fruiting tree, to Laven. One shouldn't expect an apple to be growing each day. But that didn't mean there would never be fruit on the branch.

Laven let himself be recaptured by Menel's arms, leaning into the embrace and resting his cheek on the soft white hair of Menel's head. There wasn't any good way to answer Menel's crisis. The best Laven could do was nuzzle against him and be a reassuring object. Everything else was up to Menel. Only he could absolve himself.

He was lost in his own thoughts and worrying about Menel's safety when the man in question pulled back to look up at Laven, the corners of his mouth turning up into a cheeky smile. Laven returned it, sighing through his nose in quiet laughter at Menel's attempt at flirtation. It was a transparent ruse, to distract them both.

Laven appreciated the effort.

"Thank the gods for small favors then," He murmured, chuckling and running his thumbs over the pink cheeks that were finally free of tears. "If we were brothers this would be very awkward to explain to the lady in black downstairs."

It was easy enough to lean in and kiss Menel tenderly, chastely. There was so much to worry about, so many strange weights hanging over their heads. But Laven felt like he could count on two things at this moment.

Menel to trust Laven to make the decision that was best for Laven, and Menel wanting Laven to continue this strange and fast moving courtship.

by **Menel** Thu Jul 30, 2015 11:37 pm

If Laven was attempting to be reassuring or comforting, he was doing an excellent job of both. No words that Laven spoke could assuage the guilt that Menel felt over killing Michael; whatever the reasons behind it, and he could not in this moment forgive himself so easily. Perhaps there would come a day when that burden did not weigh like a mountain upon his shoulders, but it was not a burden he could shrug off because of a few words or a comforting embrace. Even if he wanted to.

He could, and did however allow himself to be lulled away from those dark thoughts by Laven's presence. He was glad to see the elf's smile again, even if his words were embarrassing he was grateful for the sound of Laven's chuckle thrumming against his body.

Laven's fingers against his cheek made his blush deepen even further for a moment before Laven saved him with a gentle kiss. There wasn't much heat behind the kiss, but there didn't need to be. Like Laven's hand, like his body, and his mere presence it was a comfort to Menel. Reaffirmation that Laven was still beside him, still with him. That he hadn't been abandoned for what he had done.

The other man's lips lifted from his own and Menel traced his fingers delicately along the edge of Laven's jaw to where purple hair grew from his chin in a thin line. It made Menel smile just a little to think that Laven even dyed this. The hair was slightly rough beneath his touch, not as soft as Laven's hair.

This man...

"You shared part of yourself with me last night, it seems only fair that you know this of me." His voice didn't hold nearly as much pain as it had a few minutes ago. They'd shared something of their childhoods, traded pieces of their souls. "To know that I loved someone once, enough to share my life with her if we'd ever had the chance, and I watched him kill her. She died because of his jealousy and his desire. I couldn't save her."

Those words made his fingers fall from Laven's face. All the what-ifs in the world couldn't take back Michael's dagger. Couldn't make his steps quick enough to bring him to her side in time. He touched the wetness of his tears on Laven's shirt where they were quickly drying, a touch of silence deepening in the room. "He would have killed me too if he could have. He tried but..." Menel made a half-bitter sound. "He wasn't skilled enough and I wanted him dead."

He'd wanted it with all the rage that a force of nature could not have measured in action. "So I killed him. I slid Kasha'din into his heart and I was glad to watch the light go out of his eyes. Holding him there even after he stabbed me. Until I was certain he was dead."

Afterwards he'd tried to crawl to her, but he the strength had fled his body so he lay there. Lay there looking into her dead eyes until he lost consciousness. He didn't shed tears for Michael, not this time. Perhaps he never would again. Guilt could eat him alive but some small part of him was still glad that the man wasn't alive. That Michael had suffered for taking the only person in his life that loved him.

Or at least... she was the only one that had loved him then.

by **Laven** Tue Aug 04, 2015 3:28 pm

Menel's story was sad, though perhaps not as shocking as he seemed to be worried it was. Laven had read many tales growing up, losing himself in dusty old books filled with sad love stories like the one being described to him. The biggest difference was that Menel had survived the pain of not only his wounds of body but also the wounds to his heart and soul. Though to say he had completely healed seemed to be overly optimistic.

"She must have been so beautiful, inside and out." Laven murmured as Menel paused in his confession. His hands had stopped their carding though Menel's hair, instead resting on the broad shoulders beneath him and rubbing soothing circles into the muscles under his thumbs. "And he must have been a sorry excuse for a person, to be so obsessed that he decided your deaths was the only path for him."

There wasn't much else to be said on that matter that wouldn't upset Menel further. In Laven's mind Michael had gotten what he deserved. A death for a death. And a clear case of kill or be killed. So Laven continued rubbing Menel's shoulders as he digested this new information. Menel being... engaged? Was only mildly surprising. After all, Laven had lived with Randwulf for several years, almost in the role of a spouse. And several more with another man as husband in everything but name. That Menel had been in a similar role at one point would have been charming to know if not for the fact it had ended in tears and bloodshed. Reaching up with his right hand, Laven brushed his knuckles against Menel's cheek and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry that she's gone, Menel. And sorry that such sad memories had to be dragged up and exposed to the light." Laven sighed and twisted his mouth into a grimace. "And on any other day I would say this deserved retreating for a while to sooth the hurt. But this has to be nipped in the bud now."

Before the past came seeking Menel without having Laven's blade as the shield over the swordsman's heart.

by **Menel** Tue Aug 04, 2015 3:59 pm

There were so few times that Menel thought of the woman he had lost. Somehow it was like the singular memory of her death made it almost impossible for him to think of her before that moment and so out of a desire to avoid the pain, to avoid tainting the person he'd cared so deeply for he hardly thought of her at all.

She had been beautiful, with long black hair that had at times reminded him of his mothers. Aviline's had always smelled faintly of apples though, and he'd joked that she did it on purpose to tempt him closer to her. Their relationship had been full of soft laughter and quiet moments stolen under the stars. She'd known everything about him, and he'd known everything about her. Aviline had been a tiny woman, so small that he could pick her up and throw her in the air, toss her over his shoulder and carry her off if he wanted. A quiet woman who spoke softly and enjoyed small domestic tasks in a way that made Menel want to see her using her skills to knit clothes for the children he'd dreamed of having with her someday.

Looking back on those memories now, such a short time later... He wondered if he was still the sort of man she'd love. If he'd be able to love her like he had back then. It might have only been a few years, but those few years had left deep marks.

Her death had changed him.

If not for Laven beside him, he might not have been able to think of her so clearly. Been able to hold those memories for even an instant without seeing her dead eyes in his memory. But now... He could remember instead her smile. The way she'd touched him softly almost like Laven did now, but different too.

Laven touched his cheek and Menel's eyes met the elf's crimson orbs. They were nothing alike. He thought though, that Aviline would have liked Laven. She would have been amazed by his skill; being able to make all those clothes. It was different to know how to repair clothes and how to make them, but she would have been able to talk to Laven about it. Would have known what it meant and how good he was at it. They were though, the same in a way that mattered most to Menel. In their hearts, they were both kind and gentle. They had both found ways to care about him when he didn't expect anyone to; found their ways to his heart as though it was simply the natural thing to do.

"I would have preferred to talk about it a different way, but I don't regret you knowing." He would have chosen to take his time, but at least it was out now. At least he knew that Laven could accept even this part of him. The swordsman coughed and shifted a little, frowning himself. "I've got to admit... I've stopped my fair share of assassins before but I've never had a contract taken out on me."

His blue eyes flickered toward the paperwork for a moment before they returned. Menel's fingers shifted slightly against Laven, unconsciously soothing the edge of the other man's collar to soothe his own mild flicker of anxiety. "I don't imagine it's going to be so easy as you just saying that you're not going to do it... Even if you decline to take the contract someone will be coming eventually... And if the money is good enough they'll keep coming."

Good as he was, even he couldn't survive a constant stream of assassins, and there simply some things that he couldn't defend himself from.

by **Laven** Tue Aug 04, 2015 4:35 pm

"There's a first time for everything, even being targeted for a hit." Laven quirked his eyebrow and offered Menel his hand to help the swordsman stand. "And lucky for you, while it is very rare and will definitely cause me to lose a little bit of reputation with the local guild..." Laven rubbed his index finger under his bottom lip before shrugging in resignation. "I think it's worth the tarnish."

Laven had a bit more trepidation than he voiced out loud to Menel, but he also wasn't willing to scare him any farther than he already had. No, losing connections with the assassin's guild might hurt in the short run, but Menel having to constantly watch his back for the blades of Laven's contemporaries would be worse. Laven was in no way the best killer in the city. He was maybe the fastest, but he suspected his elemental mastery had a large hand in those matters.

"No," He said, letting Menel fret over him while smothering a fond smile. "I have no plan to turn down the contract, at least not to the guild representative that issued it to me." The fragments of a plan were beginning to form in Laven's mind, and if he could just get all the pieces to align properly the day might be saved.

"The first thing to do will be to talk to Revina. She accepted the contract as my intermediary and might know a bit more about the situation than what the dossier states." Not just who had actually issued the hit instead of the long dead Michael, but also where they might be and how much danger it would be to show up on thei doorstep.

Laven was already cataloging the weaponry he could handle. Not too many blades because it would weigh him down and keep his air magic from being beneficial. Maybe some of Revina's firepower...

"Let's go find her, and then we'll figure this out." crouching down and rescuing the papers from his floor, Laven hoped his faith in his cousin wouldn't be unfounded.

by **Menel** Tue Aug 04, 2015 5:20 pm

Maybe Laven's occupation made it easier for him to find the situation so light-hearted, but whatever the reason Menel found himself smiling just a little. Somehow he... no they, would figure out a way around this situation. Already he could see the gears moving in Laven's mind, and the swordsman hoped that Laven's experience would offer him more than what Menel was coming up with. Which was just a basic calculation of how long he could handle assassins before he slipped up and ended up facing someone that was better than he was. Or just luckier.

Though he was also trying to think of who it was that would have done this in the first place. He had not thought that anyone had been so upset by Michael's death that they would try to kill him. Which wasn't to say anyone had celebrated the man's death, but why send assassin's after him?

Most of Michael's family had money, owning great swaths of land. Menel had only known Michael really, and the man had been entitled and selfish. Chasing after Aviline because he found her beautiful more than anything else, and because it had chafed his pride when she had turned him down. Actually, thinking of Michael reminded Menel of the man's younger brother... Daniel? Yes Daniel. Menel had met him once after Michael's death, and he could still remember the scowling young man. He'd barely been old enough to rightly call a man, but he'd reminded the swordsman in every way of his older brother. They even looked remarkably similar.

Menel refocused on what Laven was saying, nodding a little and letting the other man help him up. "I hope she knows something about it that'll make it easier to come up with an idea of what to do." Really the best thing would be to somehow convince whoever had tried to hire Laven to take the contract back. If they had enough money to hire an assassin then Menel certainly didn't have enough to try and... what pay off some kind of ransom for his own life?

It was wise though for Laven to keep the contract as long as he could. That would at least make any other assassin think twice. "Won't it be a little suspicious if we're seen together... or I mean... I'm sitting here at your house so won't they wonder why you haven't killed me yet?" Whoever 'they' were. Other assassins. Whoever had put out the contract on him. Menel bent over to help Laven gather up the papers though there wasn't much hope of putting them in the proper order without taking the time to do so and Menel was very politely trying not to look at them close enough to read them. Just picking them up and handing them to Laven.

The swordsman paused there, looking just a little embarrassed though he wasn't blushing. "It seems kind of strange to thank you again... but you don't have to do anything here Laven. I got myself into this." He wasn't used to depending on others and he wasn't sure how to express that thought properly. "I appreciate you holding the contract, but if this is going to cause problems for you... I can leave the city for a while. Find out whoever did this myself and try to convince them to think better of it."

by Sponsored content