Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

5.3.

Tongue stuck out in concentration, Alva drew a thin brush along his left eyelid, tracing a silver line, then repeated it with the right. He leaned back in the chair to study his handiwork in the mirror.

"Now I know why I played all these girl parts in the Academia!" he bragged. "Watch me paint myself into a woman anyone would bed! Me included!"

The Chevalier was already dolled out in a floor-length gown of azure silk, with satin insets, and made wide in the skirt to conceal certain bits of the anatomy. The dress color set off his red hair and green eyes beautifully, but the whole ensemble looked strange on a man, in Ithildin's view.

"Oh, stop ogling, you are making my hand shake," Alva pouted, doing his belle of the ball moue, and the elf looked away, embarrassed.

But Alva was not talking to him.

"Must you smirk?" Alva went on, to Kintaro sprawled on the bed. "You try putting on eyeliner when people keep staring at you."

"You've got your back to me, sweetling."

"Yes, and, in the mirror, I can see you strip me and shag me. With your eyes, I mean."

Kintaro howled in mirth, and nearly made Alva drop the brush.

"Who could possibly work under such pressure?" Alva pointed the accusatory brush at the barbarian. "Go take a walk, check out the surroundings. We'll call you when we are done."

"What, right now?" asked Kintaro casually. "I haven't had sex since morning, by the way. Why don't you blow me, before you've got lipstick on?"

"You ass!" Alva laughed and threw the first thing he got at Kintaro. The first thing he got happened to be a powder box, and Kintaro lazily took it out of the air an inch away from his head. Then he rose and stretched.

"White lady say, me do," he said sadly, mouth quivering with suppressed laughter. "Nobody wants my sweet lovin', so I go love de rack of lamb."

"Stop it, Kintaro, oh, too funny, you'll make me smear the eye paint," Lielle laughed and laughed behind a handkerchief. "Where did you learn to rape the Common Tongue?"

"That's how my warriors speak, they went to no monastery," Kintaro grinned. "I have to play my part too. You won't catch me holding forth like some Creedan troubadour."

He left, and Lielle returned to the task at hand.

Ithildin sat by his feet, and asked cautiously, "So why don't you wear something more ... neutral. Like what they'd wear in Trianess?"

"Oh, now you are in for a lecture on modern Creedan dress. You must have noticed that, sartorially speaking, there is not much difference between the sexes in Creede. If someone's got their back to you, and they have a longcoat on, you can't really guess if it's a man or a woman. Height or shoulder width might tip you off, I suppose. A little easier from the front, of course. I lost a bet like that once: the girl was flat and ungainly, rather, and I took her for a cute boy! Even hair length isn't anything to go by. You've seen Leitis and other women officers. I have a feeling crew cuts will be the all the rage in the capital quite soon. But there is one privilege reserved exclusively for women, and that's dresses. Exactly like this, old-fashioned, dating to the styles of King Tisannou's days, and he had been the founder of this dynasty. Bring out the femininity, you know. Ladies save them for balls, parties, major holidays ... Oh, it is too romantic – getting under all those skirts in a dark corner!" Here, Lielle closed his eyes, transported. "Our noblewomen think it their duty to dress this way when abroad. Especially in Arislan, where they are all bigots. One Trianess lady made a splash when she was received by the Khaleed – came with her bosoms quite bare. So it is incumbent upon me to present as a corrupt temptress of the North." Alva winked at Ithildin and started on plucking his eyebrows.