Spearing the Dragon

TWENTY-TWO

TALANGUL
A heavy mist hung in the air as they walked down narrow, dirty streets. Loridian looked up at the stone walls that hemmed them in and saw windows, some open, some closed. The open ones had a variety of elves doing various tasks: one held an instrument and made a sad song that disappeared into the thick air, another she-elf dusted a rug against the windowsill, some even fought with other neighbors hanging from their own windows, Loridian wondering if he would be flattened when one of them fell to their death below.
It was full night and they acted as though it was midday, as most Dokkalfar preferred the dark hours to do their business. They could function during the day, but found sunlight claustrophobic and oppressive, though Loridian wasn't sure this planet saw much light, with the mist.
        He didn't know if it was a regular occurrence or seasonal; he hadn't spent much time here, he had been maybe once in his long lifespan, and Alvaen was not offering information. All he knew was that Alvaen could get an unmarked vessel from someone he knew on this world, but he hadn't given any details as to the identity of the person or where they would be going.
The narrow walkway opened up into a boulevard with high foot traffic. They walked across it to a tall building with a single turret on the roof. They took two steps up to a worn, faded door that opened from inside. Alvaen slipped inside while the door was open, Loridian picking up his feet to follow before the patron let it hit him.
        They walked into a warm open space, and it took him about two seconds to know what kind of establishment his mate had brought him to. He looked at him curiously when an individual came from another room linked by a dome-shaped threshold.
"As I live and breathe," came a pleasantly soft yet masculine voice, Loridian quickly running his eyes over the tall, slender, elegant male who wore a robe that was almost see through. Alvaen turned and looked at him with reserved gaze as the male walked up to him, bending down for a kiss Alvaen smoothly sidestepped. The man didn't seem to mind, giving him a fond look before he looked at Loridian, closer to his size.
"Picking up fancy courtesans these days, I see," he said in a smooth voice.
"This is my mate."
Loridian couldn't tell if the tall drink of water knew his identity, but he seemed impressed before he looked back at Alvaen.
"Please, join me somewhere a bit more private."
Loridian found himself watching the flamboyant walk of their host as he took them under another threshold to their left, determined to ignore the activities going on around him. The male swan took them down a dark corridor, familiar sounds in the darkness greeting him as they kept to the center. He walked into a room, leaving the door open. Loridian shut it behind him, turning to see the swan reclining on a couch, his arms stretched over the top, sultry gaze on Alvaen as he took a seat beside him, but not close, Loridian taking a seat on the couch across from them.
"I had begun to think you forgot about us," the swan said in a voice like a purr.
"I'm surprised you haven't forgotten me," Alvaen replied in an even tone. "It was...a long time ago."
"I always remember my favorites, you know that. We had such fun together, didn't we, love?"
Alvaen cleared his throat and the swan glanced at Loridian only briefly.
"He's not the jealous type, look, he's all the way over there," he said in a flippant tone, bringing a smile to Loridian's lips.
"I came to make a request."
"Oh, darling, just name it," the swan said, sliding closer to him on the couch. Alvaen looked at Loridian as though apologetically, and he only gave him a warm gaze. The swan rested a hand on Alvaen's leg and Alvaen gently swept it aside, but their host only smiled. "Still as reserved, I see. That is, until we'd get your clothes off."
Loridian grunted in amusement, drawing Alvaen's attention.
"Nothing much has changed."
His mate gave him a burning look and the swan chuckled.
"Good to know. Tell me, has this one gotten you drunk yet?"
"I'll make a mental note," Loridian said, winking at him, Alvaen shaking his head, the swan giving a throaty laugh.
"Well, I won't spoil the surprise. Let's just say he gets very...creative."
"Try to concentrate, Navariel."
"That's some name."
Alvaen glared at him, the swan flashing Loridian a smile.
"I know, isn't it?"
"Sounds like an angel...or a nymph."
Navariel gave Alvaen a suggestive look, who shook his head with serious features.
"No."
"Come, come, love, we should have a little fun while you're here...I know you've never been into threesomes, but..."
"You should see him with our other mate," Loridian said, earning another glare, Navariel looking at Alvaen in surprise.
"Darling, you've grown! I'm so proud!"
Loridian saw a dim smile fill his stoic mate's eyes.
"I came here for a reason."
"Yes, of course, you're so distracting." Loridian gave the swan smiling eyes as he cleared his throat. "I'm listening. I promise."
"I need a vessel. Unmarked, but loaded."
Those swan eyes turned calculating, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"May I ask where you're taking this vessel?"
Alvaen gave him a dominant look, Navariel studying his eyes for a moment.
"Will you give it to me or not?"
"I'd give you half my riches, you know that," Navariel said in a serious tone devoid of its customary flirtation. Alvaen's gaze gentled.
"Then why the third degree?"
"Am I not allowed to be concerned? I haven't seen you in centuries, then you show up with this eye candy, asking for a vessel that is bound to get you into a lot of trouble."
Alvaen's gaze turned neutral. "I'm not as I once was. I was a boy then—"
"A beautiful, sweet boy, yes. You are that boy still, though you think to hide him from me. You cannot lie to me, love. You never could. You have always worn a mask, I understand to protect yourself, but there is no hiding from me, do you understand?" he asked in a gentle, firm tone, Alvaen lowering his gaze.
"I understand. But I still need the vessel."
"Can you tell me why?" Navariel asked in a near comforting tone.
"I can't tell you—"
"I am going to need something from you, sweetheart. It wouldn't be responsible of me to give you such a vessel without knowing at least what you plan to use it for."
"To kill the Black General."
Alvaen gave Loridian an intense look and Navariel sighed.
"I was afraid of that. He is the only thing of real interest in this system, other than the Black Citadel, and this one probably has a front seat," he said, gesturing toward Loridian, drawing his curious gaze. Navariel placed his soft hands in his lap, giving Alvaen a chastising look, like a child who'd spilled milk.
"It's important," Alvaen said quietly. "I wouldn't have asked—"
"Oh yes, I know, Alvaen Galdemort wouldn't ask for anything until he had no choice." Loridian thought he heard an underlying tone of injury beneath the smooth voice. Navariel sighed. "You know I couldn't deny you, sweetheart. I just hope you survive this. It would hurt me very deeply to know you'd gotten yourself killed in a ship I gave you."
Alvaen's eyes softened. "I know that."
Navariel gestured with an elegant arm.
"I will need a word with this one."
Loridian looked at him in surprise, Alvaen giving him a calculating gaze before he rose.
"I will be in the next room."
Loridian watched him go with mounting curiosity. As soon as the door closed, the swan evaporated for the cutting gaze of a scorpion in a fancy robe. In a few moments where he strangely lost time, suddenly their host straddled him, a rather gorgeous knife at his throat. He looked up into fiery golden eyes that held him spellbound.
"If he doesn't come back with that ship, I will end you, high elf or not. Am I clear?"
Loridian's gaze softened.
"If Alvaen wasn't so reserved, this conversation would end very differently."
Navariel took the blade away as he lifted a leg to stand.
"You and every other elf in a robe." The knife disappeared on his person, those golden eyes looking down at him a moment as he turned thoughtful. "Hmm."
He turned on his heel and sauntered away from him, Loridian finding himself enjoying the view as he opened the door. Alvaen walked inside, looking at his friend suspiciously.
"That was quick."
"He's not a client, dear," Navariel said, gliding past him into the room he'd just left. Alvaen snapped a few fingers in front of Loridian, who'd watched him do so. Loridian smiled at him and Alvaen rolled his eyes.
"Males," he muttered, turning to see Navariel seated at a desk, writing something. Alvaen sat next to Loridian, who wrapped an arm around his waist, his hand settling on his hip.
"Getting comfortable, aren't you," Alvaen remarked quietly.
"With him or you?"
Alvaen looked up at him. "I didn't think Navariel would float your boat."
"My boat is adaptable to different waters," he said without missing a beat, a smile entering Alvaen's eyes before he looked away.
"Interesting."
"Is it strange I feel more at ease here than I do in most places?"
Alvaen raised an eyebrow at him.
"Probably because you're a whore yourself."
Loridian tossed his head back and he laughed, looking at him to find fond dark blue eyes on him. Navariel sauntered back inside with a sheet of paper and a satchel. Alvaen stood and walked up to him. He took the paper, frowning down at it.
"What is this?"
"You're going to need more than a pretty face where you're going."
Alvaen shook his head. "I don't need your money, Navi—"
"This is dragon steel. You don't want your citadel coins flying around in this part of the sector. That will get you killed easier than walking into the Black General's bedroom."
Alvaen's gaze gentled, Navariel opening his arms.
"At least give me a hug."
Alvaen relented, Loridian's gaze softening at the way Navariel touched the back of his head, shutting his eyes briefly. He leaned back, touching his face.
"Take care of yourself, please. There's only one you, another one of my mother's useless adages." Alvaen gave him an intensified look when Loridian realized Navariel had tears in his eyes. He turned him around, slapping his ass. "Now run off into the sunrise with your stud muffin." Navariel winked at Loridian without skipping a beat, earning a smile from the chancellor as he stood.

Alvaen directed him to a cafe down the street, slipping into a booth in the corner. Loridian sat next to him rather than across from him, turning to rest a hand on his arm. Alvaen looked up at him with his stoic gaze.
"Are you all right?"
Alvaen's eyes gentled a moment, looking down at the satchel in his hand.
"It's just been a long time..."
"One would wonder why you didn't make him your mate."
Alvaen looked up in surprise. "Did you see what he does for a living? He's not exactly relationship material."
"That's not what I saw."
Alvaen looked down. "He would never leave the house. It's the source of his riches and power. I never resented it, but I always knew where things stood between us. Besides, when we knew each other, I was so young and he was the master of the pleasure house where I lost my virginity. What you saw is as far as we'll ever get."
He motioned toward a server and Loridian fell silent, since he clearly wanted to end the subject.