A Time For Always

Chapter 15

      Alexi saw Diomid's eyes widen behind his veil. Diomid was looking towards the half open doors. Turning around quickly, he saw what had surprised his lover and took an involuntary step backwards. Diomid caught his hand, surprise and not a little sadness in his touch.
      "I beg of you, my Lords, grant me peace." at Ilira's words a hissing murmur ran through the court. Alexi cringed inside at her unstable, sickly flaring field and the deep hollows beneath her cheekbones of near starvation. Her plea for death was not as shocking as it might otherwise be, with her physical condition. A draft of cold mid-winter air drifted through the court and Alexi shivered with more than chill. Almost collapsing, her head completely bowed, Ilira knelt before the dias. Her hands were flat against the tiles in absolute submission to her fate.
      "I didn't want to humble her this way." Diomid murmured sadly. "I loved her once and she never, truly harmed me."
      "I know, love." Alexi held Diomid closer. As did most of the pairs and households in the Azov court hold their loved ones. "Even Ilira doesn't deserve such a hideous death for her temperament," he admitted. Alexi looked around and saw no sharm lords standing alone, although there were a few triads murmuring softly to each other.
      Diomid bowed his head, "I can't do it though." He shivered and Alexi tried to warm him, despite all the cloth separating them. "I can't go to her now."
      Careful of his words, "I would let you, if you wanted to."
      "I want to and can't." Diomid squeezed his hands with almost brutal strength. "She attacked me once. I can never forget or forgive that."
      Alexi was surprised, "You desire vengeance over and beyond her injury?"
      "No" Diomid said quickly. "But my body remembers." he leaned back with a sigh. "I wouldn't trust myself not to attack out of instinct."
      A Sharm Lord's kill was not the slow, almost controllable, kill of a Lord. "I understand, my love." Alexi stroked Diomid's fingers. "And I think it wise not to tempt fate." he supported Diomid's decision.
      "Thank you." Diomid looked up at him and Alexi kissed him softly between his eyes. "Do you think I'm a coward?"
      "Not at all." Alexi wondered about himself though, as he realized he hadn't wanted to let Diomid go to her, at least in his heart.
      "No, you aren't." Diomid shook his head, making the silver leaves decorating his hood flash in the light. "But I do appreciate knowing you want me."
      "With all my heart, beloved." he looked back up at the dias. Ilira had been kneeling there for a horribly long time. There seemed to be a heated discussion among the Azov household, continuing still.
     
      "So be it, then." Karola's lips tightened
      Arkay stroked the side of her face, hiding the gesture from the crowd with his body. "I'm not going to ascend her, love."
      "I would certainly hope not." Avilan looked at him pointedly. "Why do you want to save her?"
      "Because she has done nothing to deserve death." Arkay shrugged. "Besides, I'm giving her a chance, not a guarantee."
      Karola's eyes widened in shock, "Oh Gods, Arkay. That is cruel."
      "So is life, my love." Arkay tried to sooth her with his words.
      "If she resists you, she'll die." Avilan pointed out. "Your reflexes are too fast and too aggressive for a lord like her. Let me."
      "No Avilan." Arkay grimaced. "She should have a chance, not a certainty. If she can't control her aggression, then, well, it would probably be better she fail."
      "True enough," Karola sighed. "Wouldn't it be better to let one of the sharm lords take her for a month?"
      "I don't want to expose one of them after debacle with Diomid." Avilan insisted again.
      "She won't be coming after me later with a threat to strip." Arkay let a wry smile touch his lips. "Lets see if she'll even stand for me." He turned back around to the assembled court and the young woman still kneeling before them.
      Letting his senses wander over the crowd, he saw Diomid and Alexi twined together like the young couple in love they were. There were a couple of sharm lords, with their other partners standing behind them, offering themselves. Arkay shook his head no at them. Respectfully, they bowed and returned to the embrace of their households. Alexi's eyes widened and his field rang in surprise. *Be at peace, my lad* Arkay sent the two of them.
      *At your will* Diomid sent back, with absolute sincerity. His mate assented and sent his own feeling of compliance with Diomid's words.
      Finally Arkay looked down at Ilira now huddled at his feet. She was shivering with cold and exhaustion. When he reached out with his field though, he realized she was completely insensate from her lack of response of any kind. Poor thing Arkay pitied her state. Even when he physically reached down for her she didn't respond to him at all. With a practiced gesture, he scooped her up off the floor and into his arms. With a gentle touch, Arkay reached into her mind and sent her into sleep when she suddenly began struggling against him. Arkay didn't want to make a scene here at court.
      Avilan opened the door behind the dias for him. "Where are you taking her?" he asked softly.
      "The suite across from ours. If she panics, I don't want the regular guards and servants to see the result." Arkay said grimly. "I've done this before, Avilan."
      His closest friend and love grimaced, "How many of them survived?"
      "A few." Arkay admitted.
      "How long ago?" Avilan raised a golden eyebrow.
      Arkay didn't answer that question, as it had been long before he had become Ilya's prime executioner. After that, none of them had survived.
     
      Ilira drowsed on the edge of sleep. It had been so many, long months since she had actually slept deeply it took her long moments to figure out what was going on. After the scene with Diomid in the courtyard, Ilira had had a great deal of time to herself to regret her actions. Her shoulder now ached with weather changes where Kiri had broken it, reminding her of her error on a regular basis.
      "You are a very different person now, Ilira." a roughened baritone voice told her. She realized she was completely nude, wrapped in the arms of a large man under a pile of blankets in an unfamiliar bed.
      Then she felt the bracelets and knew exactly who it was who held her. For the briefest instant her heart raced, then she thought about it and relaxed. To her, anymore, it didn't really matter if she lived or died. "I suppose I am." her voice cracked from disuse. She had rarely spoken with anyone except in her work for the last months, and once winter set in, she had spoken with no one.
      She felt a soft kiss on the shoulder she had broken. "I could heal this completely, if you like?" Arkay asked her.
      "I would rather remember, my Lord." she stroked his strong hands under the covers and realized they were badly scarred.
      He chuckled softly in her ear, "You call me by my title when we are in bed together. I really should be annoyed."
      "But you aren't." she was slipping back into that dream state where all things seemed normal.
      "No, not really."
      "What happened to your arms and hands?" she asked softly, not entirely conscious of her own words.
      Metal shifted along his forearms as he moved them and for the first time in her life Ilira knew in her heart why Sharm Lords wore their bracelets. The combination of threat and promise, now unshielded, sent a shiver of fear up her spine, not unaccompanied by a flush of desire. The combination almost pulled her out of her so very comfortable abstracted state. "A number of transfers gone bad." he replied. Ilira now knew the danger she was in and actually it comforted her.
      Sharm Lord Arkay had always had a reputation for killing those who merely annoyed him, now she knew why. "You have a very light set point to kill, don't you?"
      "Now, yes." Arkay told her. His calm, matter of fact, tone calmed her further. "This doesn't scare you?"
      "I think, if I wanted to live, it would." she stroked her tentacles over his bracelets. Ilira had always wanted to know what they felt like, having seen many Lords do the same to their partners. She let herself zlin, and watched, fascinated, as Arkay's field sifted and refracted around the metal. His breath caught and for an instant she felt herself begin to be dragged under by his field. He held far more selyn than Ilira could ever hope to use or deal with.
      "You don't want to live?" Arkay's lips brushed the back of her neck.
      She relaxed into the contact and sighed as his cool, overwhelming presence surrounded her. "No, not really. Although I must say this is a pleasant way to go." To drown in selyn could be pleasant, she rested her cheek against his arm and wallowed in the sensations.
      His chuckle surprised her, "If you keep on like this, you won't get your wish."
      "It isn't really that I wish for death, but that I don't much care one way or the other." she caressed his hands again, not wanting to end the discussion so soon by fueling his desire too quickly. Ilira still felt no real need, but figured Arkay would, quite rightly, do whatever he wished.
      "I don't want you unwilling, Ilira." he squeezed her hands. "If you wish to be left alone ..."
      "No, no, don't go." she scooted back into him. "Don't leave me alone again. I've been alone for so very long."
      "It was your decision, Ilira." Arkay reminded her. "You drove Diomid away."
      "I know." she sighed, releasing his hands. "I was wrong. Now it's too late." More than anything else, she regretting hurting Diomid. She hadn't meant to, only things did not work out. Perhaps if he hadn't been seduced by Alexander. No, that was wrong. The image of Alexander protecting Diomid, as she'd been unable to, tugged at her conscience. In Arkay's arms, need was only a distant memory and here she had the balance to zlin without bias. She'd done wrong by Diomid and knew it.
      "It is," his hand stroked down the length of her body. "He has found another, I think better suited to him."
      "Why don't you lie to me and tell me I could win him back?" she felt her body relax completely with Arkay's skilled touch. No one had ever touched her so deftly with either their field or their hand. Ilira know, with a flash of unexpected insight, Arkay would not harm her deliberately.
      "Because I am not like that, Ilira." his clear honesty was astonishing to her. She had never known anyone like this. "Everyone is unique, little one." from him being called little was not at all hurtful, like from so many others, as she realized he was simply speaking literally. To him everyone was "little one" and the endearment spoke volumes of his perceived isolation from the rest of humanity.
      The great Sharm Lords were set apart by their strengths, but Arkay was beyond even the norm for his rank. Lord and Ruler Arkay some called him, Ruler of Russia in his own right and the most dangerous individual in Russia. She'd known he could be just, but she'd not expected the depths of his compassion. From his fantastic nager she zlinned he cared and cared deeply, even for her, a mere lord who'd overstepped her bounds and threatened a young man under his aegis.
      "Then how can you kill so easily?" she had to ask, if they were being so honest with each other. She knew he had to regret his actions with the softness he held her in his arms. Arkay was not a man to be cruel, no matter what rumors said.
      "Never easily. I never can forget any of them; even the most evil, depraved, criminals were human beings." his hand stilled and she took it in hers again. "But I couldn't let them prey on others again, either."
      "But what of people like me?" she had known she was asking for death when she had come to court. Now she didn't know. He was obligated to give her peace, kill her, if she so requested. She'd done so, choosing to leave a life no longer worth suffering. Now she wasn't so sure of her decision. With need a bay, she remembered the good times as well. Even the lords who'd given her impersonal transfers so she'd have the selyn necessary to live, if not the joy of personal transfer to excel and be healthy, had given of themselves to her. Was it right to disregard all those things others had done for her by choosing peace rather than trying again to succeed?
      "What of people like you, Ilira?"
      "I mean, would you have killed me there on the dias?" she shivered briefly at how close she had come to death. Perhaps she didn't really want the peace of his touch. Ilira didn't know what was after death. No one did.
      "If you had not changed, yes." he kissed her again. "Although I would not have wanted the court to see it."
      "Is that why you brought me here?" she looked around, only able to see bedcurtains. They were from the best of Azov's looms, woven in bright greens and golds.
      "Yes," he told her bluntly. "You had, and still have a choice to make. If you can not, or will not, submit yourself to me, then you will die and no longer be a threat to anyone."
      Ilira gasped at the harsh words. She tried to protest, but felt a ghostly finger against her lips. Thinking about it now, rather than reacting, she realized the wisdom of his words. "If I can't control myself well enough to be safe with you, then I must be a threat?" she asked softly.
      "Exactly," his lips were soft against the back of her neck. "I would grieve for you, but I would also know it had been necessary to protect others."
      "Why aren't other lords tested this way?" she leaned back against him, finally feeling the first glimmers of her own need.
      "Because if you are safe with me, then other sharm lords might give you another chance, after having proven your reliability." His words were more than persuasive, as were his gradually more insistent hands.
      "Ah, now I understand." she let her need pull at her even more. "Although there is one further thing, my Lord."
      He chuckled softly, "Yes, my young lord?"
      "I would like to please you as well." She reached back and daringly stroked his hip, after all, the worst he could do was kill her. "Is there some way, I could, well, manage to take all of you?" The concept was daunting. Arkay's field soared so far over hers it was as if she were a minnow contemplating the digestion of a river pike. It would be tasty, but rather overwhelming all the same.
      "You don't know how to do a shunt transfer?" He stiffened against her and his field stopped dead in surprise. The sensation caused her stomach to flip over in her middle, as it so often did when a horse contemplated refusing a fence. It was not a feeling she liked much.
      "No, I don't have any idea," she was shamed at the admission. "I'm sorry, but, well, I must have not been paying attention in class that day. My few partners have been below me, not above me. Other than Diomid," she admitted finally. "I had been shorting him, worse and worse, and didn't want to deal with it."
      "You should have asked." Arkay told her.
      "I know, but I was too ashamed of not knowing such a simple thing. As if I had never been able to attract anyone good enough for me." she curled up into a little ball, hugging her knees to her chest.
      "It's a simple trick," his hands gently straightened her out. "Take the overrun into your public field like you were taking selyn from a renGen and then when you reach the point where you match your partner shift to your private field."
      "I should have been able to figure that out." She sighed in frustration. "It's so obvious."
      "That it is." Arkay told her. "Why do you think you didn't?"
      This was a much harder question for Ilira to face. "Because I ran away from my problem, rather than thinking about it and facing it." She concluded after staring at the bedcurtains for a long while.
      "Very, very good, young one," his field was wrapped around her even more insistently than his hands. If it were possibly to drown in selyn she got the feeling she was going to find out. Her eyes kept misting over as his drifting nager clouded her physical vision. It was like walking though a dense fog bank with a thousand stars strewn throughout its depths.
      Completely forgetting any idea of fear, she closed her eyes and relaxed into the incredible wealth of selyn surrounding her. "You're overfield, aren't you?" she noted the shifting, clashing boundaries of his field pushing past what seemed to be normal limits by their ghosting.
      "Slightly," he murmured and the ghosting became more severe as he began releasing his own controls. "Where did you hear of such a thing?"
      "Sharm tales of Sharm Lords destroyed by their own selyn production," now she tried to match him, finally reaching into the depths of her own need. It was as if she were trying to walk on that same cloud bank, or in snow drifts up to her chin. Panting, she fought to get clear enough to get on top of it all. It didn't work. Giving up she finished answering his question, "It's a common motif in tragic romances."
      He chuckled softly, at her struggles or her answer she wasn't sure. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Ilira wasn't sure she could fit Arkay's overrun into her public field. "I wouldn't have thought you were a one to enjoy such things."
      "I prefer romances with happy endings." she admitted, still struggling to try to keep up with him, despite the relative futility of the gesture. Her heart hammered as she fought to keep herself in one piece as Arkay released more and more of his control. The ambient throbbed with selyn, choking her laterals still in their sheaths. There was no way she could talk them into trying to grab all of this.
      "Here, little one," his touch now included her mind and she gasped at the new things he taught her. Now, by allowing her public field to reinforce her own need, his field began responding to her. Ilira zlinned his incredible brilliance focus on her. Dancing lights, like countless fireflies surrounded her. They outlined her own darkness, wrapping around her forearms like bracelets of Saint Elmo's fire. She felt, more than heard him moan deep in his throat. "Do you wish to stay like this?" he murmured softly, his deep voice tight now with need.
      Being able to make a Sharm Lord like Arkay moan was the headiest experience she'd ever managed. It was even more fantastic than when a magnificent horse bowed their body willingly to saddle and bridle.
      Arkay chuckled softly. "I can overhear some of your internal commentary, Ilira."
      "Sorry," she bit at her lower lip. Normally she thought the inside of her mind was private. She'd heard rumors this was not true with many Sharm Lords, but she'd never felt it personally. But then was it so bad? Arkay was a horseman. He knew what she meant.
      "Yes, I do, and I'm flattered," he lipped the back of her neck again. His lips were damp and she shivered in sudden sharp longing. No, he wasn't going to kill her. Even though if it were as sweet as his foreplay, it might be worth it. He chuckled again, "Now there is a backwards complement."
      In response, she turned in his arms, for the first time today truly looking at him. There were dark lines at the corners of his eyes, now crinkled with amusement. "I want to see you, Arkay." she purred his name, feeling daring.
      "I would feel odd making love with someone who couldn't call me by name." his gentle smile transformed his harsh features into the most incredibly handsome, masculine, face she had ever seen.
      "I thought this was simply a testing transfer?" she grinned impishly, once she recovered her voice. It seemed to want to ooze out her lateral sheathes, which were dripping roniplin all over the place.
      Arkay simply held her face and kissed her deeply. Need rose with a savagery Ilira had never felt before as his extraordinarily rich field flared in promise. It was deeper than the currents of the great rivers through the city, trying to suck her under with tremendous force. "Yes, my little one. Impersonal transfers are not something I enjoy." he whispered against her lips.
      "What if I don't want more?" she licked at him, making very sure he knew she was teasing from the way she held him as tightly as she could.
      "Then perhaps we should not continue," his voice held a lilt of amusement and his field began to slide out of reach, temptingly. For a long instant, Ilira zlinned it retreat, not entirely certain he was offering what she thought he was. "If my lady does not wish to pursue the issue, I certainly would not press her."
      Stunned, she stared at him for a moment.
      "It isn't as if you could hurt me," his cool mist came back, blinding her senses with its power. "The less you change your normal behavior in transfer, the less likely you are to startle me."
      Ilira tried to clear her vision enough to see by shaking her head. As this was completely ineffective, she simply ran her hand over what felt like Arkay's side. "I take it surprising you would be a bad idea?"
      "That's how Simes get killed, Ilira. They startle a Sharm Lord." He explained, his dancing lights slowing in what was obviously sorrow. "Our reflexes are far, far faster than yours, and much less controllable."
      "Right now I am so lost in your field I can't find enough of myself to startle you with." Her darkness was curled up in a content little sphere in the midst of a blazing pool of energy. "Happy though," she realized should she be worried about not feeling need, but so secure with all the selyn available she simply rested.
      Ripples went through the glowing pool, "Then you should make the most of the moment. Avilan taught me that."
      "Very wise, Sharm Lord Azov is." Ilira replied dreamily, not wanting to end this incredible contentment.
      The ripples of laughter broadened and deepened, "Sometimes. However, if you stay where you are and don't do anything, you are going to be in trouble, little one."
      "I know," she sighed reluctantly. "But at the moment, I find myself more than happy with the Fields of Plenty."
      "What a description, little one," some of the bright, drifting lights gathered together and touched her briefly in a gentle kiss. "Stay where you are for a bit. I'll call you out before it's too late." The lights drifted apart again, now simply caressing her.
      Relaxing completely, Ilira no longer felt overwhelmed or threatened by the wealth of selyn surrounding her. She felt wholly safe, held in the regard of this man who could so very easily kill her. Now she knew he wouldn't unless, somehow, she threatened him, which she would never do. With a purely mental sigh of contentment, her own darkness spread out to its limits, warmed by the drifting lights watching over it.
      After what seemed like hours, lost in the wonder of her own contemplation of this peaceful eternity, one by one, the lights winked out and gathered at the edge of her self. Wanting them back, she gradually shifted her own consciousness to focus on them. They danced and teased at her. So very slowly, the cold, pulling sensation of need spiraled into being again as her mind reached towards the faery lights.
      Now the cool mist began to gape and show slivers of darkness between its tendrils. Trying to follow it, need pulled at her even more.
      Ilira chuckled wickedly to herself. Focusing on her own need, the mist returned, wrapping itself around her. She ignored it this time. It began clamoring for her attention, wrapping itself around her darkness. She wanted the lights back. Reaching into the velvet night, she gloried in her own cold, dark need. The will-o'-wisps returned, bathing her darkness in light. Still she denied them, focusing entirely inward, surrounding her self with a hard shell of her own feigned indifference.
      The living mists pressed against her dark sphere with ever increasing force. Before it could shatter her shields, she let a crack form. With the speed of thought, the lights concentrated on the tiny fracture. Before long, there was a spider web of illuminated lines, all created by the light wedging itself into her initial fault line. The very instant before they broke through, Ilira made sure her darkness would match the now frantic light trying to swallow it.
      With a final blazing flash of energy, the light broke through. The initial rush swept her away with its sheer, overwhelming magnitude. A tiny corner of her mind grasped on to the nearest thing she could think of, one of the tiny lights. Sharing this new world with an infitesimal mote of light, Ilira watched, stunned, as the huge void of need she had created was engulfed by the tidal wave of fire.
      A winged figure, wrapped in light, arose out of the now filled void. It looked around, as if looking for something or someone in this place. Great feathered wings sagged, now drifting behind the fantastic creature. Ilira caressed the tiny mote she had grabbed onto. It released her thoughts with a flicker of what she thought was love. Freed, Ilira went to the winged person, kneeling at its feet. She touched them, expecting the smooth, hardness of marble and finding the warm resilience of living flesh.
      Swept up into the creature's now joyous wings, Ilira smelled cinnamon and myrrh the instant she returned to the real world with a crash.
     
      Ilira found herself sitting on Arkay's lap in a tangle of blankets. Startled for a moment as her laterals slid back home across hairless skin, she realized she had taken the contacts on Arkay's upper arms. She looked at him quizzically, as he simply waited for her. "Are you all right, little one?"
      Her hands slid around to caress his broad back and try to pull him closer. "Yes, but for one little thing." She purred, nuzzling at his chest, trying to savor the rising tide of desire.
      "And that would be?" He began to stir beneath her.
      "I have to apologize to both Diomid and Alexi." She looked up into Arkay's eyes, expecting to see dismissal of the notion.
      "You should," his lips touched her forehead in approval. "Now?" His tone held no clue as to what he thought she should do.
      "Yes," she looked straight into his eyes, and even locked in the real world,his approval was plainly evident in his proud nod.
     

Chapter 16

      Diomid untangled himself from the nest of blankets he had been reading in and set his book down. "My turn to answer the door." he had no idea who it could be, with most of the court still probably at the evening dances.
      Alexi yawned and nodded. "Do that. I'll stay here by the fire where its warm." They had almost completely moved into the large pit surrounding the fireplace for the winter. The bedroom was far too cold this time of year, with any liquid left out turning to solid ice by morning and rarely thawing completely. Although this was a definite drawback to their new accommodations and explained why the suite had been left open, they still enjoyed their new home far too much to abandon it.
      Neither of them had a great deal of work to do this time of year. Other than the occasional frostbite or sprain from slipping on a patch of ice, even the infirmary was relatively slow. Diomid opened the door. His jaw dropped as he saw Ilira, on Arkay's arm, standing there. Prompted by courtesy, "Come in, come in."
      "We'll only be a bit," Ilira looked down at the floor and slowly walked in. Diomid could see Arkay's eyes dilate briefly.
      Alexi hissed softly in surprise, *I have never seen anyone so post walking around*
      Diomid looked more carefully and bit back a gasp of shock. From Ilira's hand clenching and releasing on Arkay's arm to his own, quite uncharacteristic, nervously shifting balance, they had left the consummation of what seemed to be an incredible transfer. "I am glad you are well again, Ilira." Diomid told her honestly. Alexi said nothing, but came to stand with him. Their own transfer was quite near, and Diomid made sure to hold Alexi closely with his own field in support.
      "Thank you," she nodded quickly. After taking a deep breath, "I would like to apologize, to both of you. I was wrong to take out my frustrations on either of you.
      "Diomid, while I loved you and do still love you, I would like to formally release you to Alexander. He was right, you are far better suited to him than to me. I want you to be happy and content, no matter who that is with.
      "And Alexander, I was so very wrong to take out my frustration with the demands of the veiled on you. You had nothing to do with their trying to force me into something I didn't want, but I could attack you and did so. There is nothing I can do at this late date to try to repair those wrongs, but I am truly sorry. Perhaps, in some small way, my formally giving up all possible claim on Diomid might be some small recompense." She slumped in on herself and turned to cry against Arkay's chest.
      Alexi trembled against Diomid's side. He looked up to see his lover's eyes dark with anger. "No love, she means no further harm." Diomid would have bet his life on it.
      "She talks as if she still owns you." Alexi sputtered.
      "Perhaps in some ways, in her mind, she felt responsible for me." Diomid couldn't help but feel for the woman he had once loved. "She was my first lover."
      "No one is responsible for another." Alexi growled. "She hurt you."
      "As you are hurting her and me." Diomid pointed out.
      Arkay gasped and looked at him in surprise, "That sounds like something my father would say."
      Diomid merely shrugged. He and Alexi had spoken of going to the veiled to determine Diomid's parentage, but the only way they had access was through Arkay, and neither of them felt up for that yet.
      "How so am I hurting you?" Alexi's tone moderated from its earlier harshness.
      *Look at her, beloved. Truly look at her,* he sent sadly. It hurt to see such a vibrant woman shattered so completely, even if it had been by her own actions and flaws. Her beauty was undeniable as was her spirit. The crime only lay in how poorly she'd used her strength of spirit.
      *For your sake,* he sent reluctantly. Then Diomid felt Alexi's field hesitate in its steady pull on him and he almost fell in place. *Poor lost one,* his lover cried in his mind. Arkay nodded softly in agreement as he heard the call.
      "I ..." Diomid began.
      "We," Alexi broke in, "forgive you Ilira."
      "Please, I don't want it to be so simple." Ilira murmured, barely audible. "If there is anything I can do, let me know."
      "Hush, little one," this time Arkay's favorite pet phrase for any Sime seemed particularly appropriate, as he almost seemed to overwhelm her tiny form. His hand covered most of her back as he held her.
      "Later, Ilira." Alexi said softly, going to the two of them.
      Arkay waved him back. *She's very fragile right now, and I don't want to stress her too far.*
      Diomid took Alexi's hand. "I look forward to seeing you later, Ilira." He opened the door for them.
      She stumbled heavily when Arkay released her and he picked her up again. "You, my lass, are going back to bed." He said firmly, making Diomid smile at his vehemence. Arkay had used the exact same tone with him so many times he couldn't count them. It seemed this was exactly the right thing to say, as Ilira trilled and curled up to him happily. Diomid had never seen an adult do something like that, but she was so small, it didn't look as odd as he might have thought. Arkay nodded to him gravely. Diomid could sense the tension of his holding back on consummating his earlier transfer.
      "Go on with you," Diomid grinned. "Finish what you started."
      "I plan on it."
     
      Arkay was sometimes, even still, amazed at the resilience of so many Simes. Ilira was doing her level best to get into his clothes even before they made it back their temporary bedroom. "A moment, little one," he fumbled with the door handle, made more than a bit clumsy by her squirming so enthusiastically in his arms. She stilled, letting him manage the latch. Before she could get going again, he hurried inside and shut the door behind them. "Feel better now?" He asked
      "Almost," she purred, managing to get his shirt open to the waist. Her cheek pressed firmly against his chest, she murmured, "Better, skin."
      "I meant about what you had to do." He corrected her gently, setting her on the bed.
      "Yes, thank you m'Lord," she said demurely, now looking away. He chuckled deeply, remembering watching her with Diomid their first time.
      "What was it I said about using my name?" He asked, slipping off her shirt, being very careful not to touch her.
      Her gold and green eyes were enormous as she looked up at him in surprise. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean ..." she sputtered, cheeks reddening faintly.
      "As well you shouldn't," he purred at her. Ilira's field flared with the most exquisite combination of lust and submission it had ever been Arkay's privilege to sense. "Oh, my pretty one. And just what would you do for me?" He ran his knuckles alongside her face, feeling the heat rise off her without touching her smooth skin.
      "Anything you like, m'Lord," her impish grin and sense of bright laughter was as heady as her willful disobedience.
      "Anything but call me by name, it seems." He growled at her after letting his pants slide to the floor, which he only now realized she had managed to untie.
      "I couldn't do that, m'Lord," she backed away as he crawled onto the bed. "It wouldn't be proper."
      "I'll show you proper, little one." He slipped out of his shirt and used it to catch her. It was so large, it worked quite neatly to tie her upper arms to her sides. "Yes, I think I like this." He pulled her onto her knees in front of him and chuckled at her look of amazement. "Don't think I don't know about your little games, m'lord Ilira." Arkay brushed a kiss across her lips. She hummed at him and tried to lean against him. "So very eager," he played along, despite his own rising desire to have his way with her in other than games.
      "Yes, m'Lord," she grinned, still pushing at him.
      "Now I have had about enough of your impertinence, or lack thereof." Taking a firm grip on his own mindset, he pulled her into his lap, slid her pants down and applied a firm swat to her behind. Arkay almost lost complete control at this point as a blinding flash of pure lust fed back to him from her reaction to the stinging hand print he had left on her rear. The last time he had played games like this, he had been no where near as sensitive as he was now. For a moment, he stroked her reddened skin, loosing himself in her reactions.
      Suddenly he felt her try to force him to continue with her field, as coarsely as if he were a sharm lord. He grinned, freed by the conflict between her purely nageric manipulations and her thoughts. "That won't work with a Sharm Lord, m'lord Ilira." He swatted her again, this time catching her reaction and mirroring it back to her.
      She squealed in surprise and shock. "What?" She squirmed on his lap.
      He just laughed and swatted her again, "Hold still, little one, or I might miss." This time he stroked her, rather than swatting her and she melted against him, moaning. She was so incredibly responsive, Arkay could now well understand Diomid's earlier fascination with her. "Like that, do you?" He asked, not letting her speak immediately by doing more than simply stroke her.
      Yes, m'Lord, I mean Arkay, ..." she trailed off incoherently when he finally let her speak. She was so tiny, it was the easiest thing in the world to pick her up and set her in his lap against him.
      He whispered in her ear, "Is there something you want?" Arkay reached around to tease her further. Ilira arched her back and tried to squirm her way onto him. "Not yet, my little toy," he purred, wanting to make this last a good, long time.
     
      Ilira knew her silly grin was not going to go away for days. When she had first taken Diomid, she knew he had incredible potential, but Arkay was very much the finished product of what Diomid could become. Although she also now knew, Diomid didn't have any true desire to become what she wanted.
      "You should find yourself someone who suits you, Ilira." Arkay answered her thoughts, as he had so often in the two days they had spent together.
      "I had thought, at one time, Diomid would." She murmured as she rested her head on his shoulder.
      "No, little one, you know as well as I do, now, he isn't quite." His hand stroked her hair. "He was too young and untried. You should find someone more your own age."
      "Too bad you aren't single." She grinned up at him to let him know she was playing.
      "Maybe occasionally, little one," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "This was certainly fun and I do have to share Karola."
      Ilira was stunned at his offer, "But I am so far below you."
      He chuckled, "You managed well enough. Seriously though, I have had offers from a couple of sharm lords, both women, who want to come to Azov."
      She thought about the potential value to be gained by bringing in more sharm lords and tried to balance it in her head with the havoc they would create with the existing pairings. "I thought we were already sharm lord high?"
      "We are, but not as much as I would like." Arkay told her. "I prefer to run as high as the Demense can safely manage."
      "Why is that?" She asked, curious.
      "Because it gives everyone more freedom to find suitable partners. Right now there are too many selyn only pairings for my taste." He stroked her flank, making her giggle. "Besides, it keeps everyone a bit more active in their training."
      "That is bad, Arkay," she nipped at him. "Making people compete for transfers."
      He chuckled softly, "Only sharm lords, who can get far too soft and complacent for my taste. I don't like it when lords have to compete to simply survive."
      "That's because you are soft on us, m'Lord Arkay." She stroked her face against the tightly curled hair on his chest.
      "Not always," he grinned. "Actually letting the lords get a little pampered doesn't hurt anyone. Insecure lords are a hazard."
      "I'll agree with you there," she sighed, thinking of the little voice in the back of her head which sometimes haunted her to simply take rather than court. "I certainly proved it with Diomid last summer." She shrugged her previously injured shoulder.
      "That you did, sweetheart," his hand stroked over the whitened scars. "So, are you as picky as Diomid was about gender or do you want to zlin the women first?"
      "Actually I prefer other lords, gender isn't particularly important." She buried her face against him at her admission. Only the lower classes usually partnered off with their own kind, but they'd come to an understanding to be completely honest with each other in the last forty eight hours as well.
      "It's all right, little one," he chuckled softly and held her close. "You don't think Avilan and I avoid each other, do you?"
      "No, I guess not," she smiled and looked up at him. Ilira wouldn't have thought of it without his mention, but now that he had, it made sense. "You don't think its wrong?"
      "Not at all, little one," he smiled back kindly. "A bit unusual, but not wrong. But perhaps it may explain why you reacted so badly to Diomid pairing with Alexi, no?"
      "I didn't want to be bred like some kind of broodmare." She groused.
      "Would it truly be so horrible?" He put his finger to her lips for silence. "Particularly given the way we take care of our broodmares?"
      She had to laugh, "No, put that way I suppose it isn't. I just don't know if I can deal with having a child yet. Alexi is so young and Diomid even younger."
      "Diomid was never truly young, in some ways, Ilira." Arkay told her softly. "Alexi, well, I don't know him as well, but he does seem to have Diomid's best interests at heart. Besides, if you bear a child at the orders of the veiled, you don't have to have anything to do with it once its born, if you don't want to."
      "That seems so harsh, Arkay," she grimaced. "After all that effort to never even see the child."
      "If that is what you chose, you would be told the child was not viable at birth, no matter the truth." His blunt-spokeness caught her off guard again.
      "That is even harsher, Arkay," she shook her head. "How can a woman do that?"
      "Far too easily for some," he frowned. "There are some women, lords in particular, who bear very easily and that is all they do with their lives. They live a life of complete luxury, yet never raise a single one of their children."
      "I could never do that." She closed her eyes in sorrow at all the poor little ones who never know their mothers.
      "The children never know, Ilira." He murmured against the top of her head. "They never form a bond with their birth mother and all they know is their wet-nurse. In some cases, they are simply adopted by a household who can not have children and if one of them is female, she nurses the child herself."
      "I still couldn't do it." Ilira stated emphatically.
     
      Due to various unavoidable interferences, they had not managed to find a good time before now to get a chance to talk with Ilira since her apology. Diomid sat back nervously against the cushions as he and Alexi waited for her to arrive. He toyed with Alexi's hair, twining it about his fingers. Feeling jittery, he got up and stretched. Another seam popped. Diomid complained, "Poor seamstresses."
      "No, my love," Alexi laughed, "A growing man. I swear, Arkay works us harder in the salle in the winter than in the summer."
      "Trying to keep you two out of trouble," his voice came from the open door. They both looked on in amazement as Arkay escorted Ilira into the room. Again Diomid was surprised, as he so often was, at how tiny Ilira truly was. Seeing her cuddled up so familiarly with Arkay was also a bit surprising. When he had taken her away at court, Diomid was certain he would never see Ilira alive again. She had looked a bit the worse for wear after somehow surviving transfer with a Sharm Lord of Arkay's strength, but now she looked positively radiant. For a moment Diomid was completely stunned, then he checked more carefully. No, Ilira wasn't pregnant, she just seemed so at first glance from how much healthier she looked now. Diomid wasn't exactly sure how he would have felt if she had been pregnant. They had actually talked about it last winter, and she had, fortunately, dismissed the matter entirely as a waste of her time.
      "Come in," Alexi said, unexpectedly cheerfully. Diomid looked at his lover in surprise. *I think, if possible, I would like to try to give Ilira another chance.* Alexi sent and Diomid simply sat there, stunned. This was the last thing he had thought to hear from Alexi. He was the one who had been adamant about not giving into to Ilira's wiles again.
      "Yes, please, come in," Diomid managed to choke out, probably sounding like a strangled chicken.
      "What happened to your shirt?" Ilira asked softly as she and Arkay sat across from him and Alexi on more cushions.
      Arkay stretched hugely as he leaned back with a sigh. "I do like this style of decoration."
      Diomid selfconciously tried to pull the seams of his shirt back together. Alexi running a tentacle over the bare skin did not help. When he released it to bat at the intruding digit, the seam gave way completely. Ilira giggled, a sound Diomid had never heard before. He looked at her.
      "You lost," she was grinning from ear to ear. "Why don't you just take it off. It looks about five cents too small across the shoulders and while I like looking at Gens whose clothes are falling off, it does look uncomfortable. I am not going to say a thing about the pants." She giggled again.
      Alexi's hands had slid inside his shirt and now Diomid's pants were almost as tight as the shirt had been. Uncomfortably, he turned to Alexi very carefully. "You, are a hazard, beloved." He whispered as he tried to rearrange himself so as to relieve some of the stress. Alexi's gentle caress made it a futile task. With a soft growl, Diomid pulled off his shirt. Surreptitiously, he hoped, he loosened the ties on his breeches and placed the shirt on his lap as he sat back down.
      "Better?" Arkay asked and if Diomid hadn't know better, he would have thought Arkay was smirking.
      "Yes, thank you," he said, hoping desperately Ilira wouldn't say anything further. She didn't and he breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief. In the reverse of their usual arrangement, Alexi draped himself around Diomid and he leaned back against his lover. Alexi caressed his ear and Diomid had to rearrange the convenient shirt yet again. He thought he heard a soft chuckle. Diomid debated the merits using one of the smaller pillows for greater concealment and then decided against it. Momentarily he flashed back to the taste of Ilira, and saw her eyes grow hot. Alexi lipped at his ear in affirmation of the idea. Maybe this wasn't such a bright idea while we are all post and bored with the long winter, Diomid thought.
      "Is there anything at all I can do for you both to apologize for the way I have behaved to you in the past?" Ilira asked, looking directly at them.
      "I don't know, Ilira." Diomid said softly, not wanting to push things too fast.
      Alexi sighed, "I think I might feel better to know it wasn't me you were rejecting, when you told me you'd rather bed an ill mannered hunchback with three eyes and weeping sores."
      Ilira blushed the most brilliant red Diomid had ever seen. "What a horrible thing to have said, Ilira!" Arkay chided her.
      She dropped her eyes, "I was in need at the time. I seem to always get in trouble then." Ilira tried to clench one of the pillows to her chest, but Arkay replaced it with one of his hands. "Honestly, now, I am horrified I ever said such a thing to someone as beautiful and gentle as you are, Alexi." She blushed even more and Diomid could see her tentacles knot themselves around Arkay's fingers. "I was so angry at being treated like a broodmare I didn't stop to think of you as a person." She looked up with these words. Tears sparkled in her eyes.
      "But I am a person, Ilira. What you said hurt me very badly." Alexi matched her gestures with his hands, holding onto Diomid. "Their demand made me feel like a stud horse, and not a particularly valuable one."
      Her eyes blazed, "How so not valuable?"
      "Wait a moment before you get angry, Ilira." Diomid said. She swallowed heavily and tipped her chin up stubbornly, but was silent. He waited till she took a deep breath and relaxed backwards against Arkay. "Less valuable stallions are treated differently than more valuable ones?"
      "Yes," Alexi's face burned against Diomid's neck. "Valuable stallions aren't just thrown together with the mare with a hope for the best. They might get hurt."
      "You thought I might kick you?" Ilira laughed, obviously sharing some kind of in-joke given Arkay's nip of remonstrance.
      "Well, I didn't know you at all and, well, you did sort of, well, verbally anyways, kick me in a very delicate part of my mental anatomy." Alexi whispered these words into Diomid's shoulder.
      "So I did," she turned her face to the side. "I am so very sorry. I didn't mean to strike out at you."
      "And I didn't mean to imply you were a less valuable mare one would use for testing a stallion." Alexi's voice softened in apology.
      Ilira looked at him with wide eyes. "Me, a valuable mare?" She snorted in disbelief sounding much like a mare at least.
      "The veiled would not have matched you with the surviving adult male of Azov to continue the line if they did not think you were the best to be found for him." Arkay told her, loudly enough for them all to hear over the crackling fire in the fireplace.
      "But I am the last of the Azov line. Now Avilan and Karola's children will hold the Demense." Alexi shrugged.
      "Do you want Azov?" Diomid asked him softly, shivering at the thought of challenging Avilan.
      "Goodness no," Alexi stated forcefully. "I would only take it if there were no other valid claimants. Arkyana and Vanya seem quite healthy and hopefully there will be many more children to continue the line besides them. But doesn't that make them the Azov line now?"
      "Yes and no," Arkay stated. "We sent Ilira to Azov when she displayed her abilities with horses in hopes she would catch the eye of one of the male Azovs and so the veiled wouldn't have to actively interfere. As it happened, Avilan took the Demense after the death of Lukian and you seemed content where you were. All the veiled and the ruler of Russia ask is to continue the familial talent of Azov."
      "What is it?" Diomid asked, not entirely sure what he was talking about.
      "Alexander, could you ask your fuzzy friend on the hearthstones to come up here?" Arkay asked, looking at the beautiful silver blue cat, now sprawled in front of the fireplace.
      The animal opened his green eyes and yawned, showing all his teeth and flattening his ears back in the process. "He's being cat like, Arkay." Alexi chuckled. Finally, indolently, the tom padded over and stroked his head against Arkay's knee. Arkay reached down and scratched him behind the ears.
      He snatched his hand back quickly before the blue could swat him with his claws. "Evil tempered cat," Arkay groused.
      The animal then trotted over to Alexi and looked up at him with bright eyes. "Yes, you can go back to your nap or sit on our lap." The cat gave a soft chirruping meow. "No, I don't have any treats right now." The cat hissed in displeasure. "Greedy, you're going to get fat." Alexi laughed as the tom stalked back to his spot on the hearth and thoroughly groomed himself.
      "You don't really speak with them?" Ilira asked breathlessly, looking as stunned as Diomid felt. He had heard Alexi talking to animals before, but never had it been so blatantly different from the way most people chattered while they were around animals.
      "Not in words, not really," Alexi said. "They don't think that way." The blue gave them all an inscrutable look and went back to his interrupted nap. "Usually," Alexi laughed. "You don't want me to translate that last."
      "I wouldn't think so, Alexi." Arkay chuckled. "Well, that is the Azov talent we don't wish to lose from Russia."
      "But what about its downside?" Alexi sighed, his arms tightening around Diomid.
      "The veiled and I were hoping to be able to breed it out, if we can save the talent at all." Arkay looked grim. "I won't lead you down a false path, the detrimental effects now part of Azov are very real."
      Diomid didn't want to ask but knew he had to, "What are they?"
      "I will probably not live more than another ten years, beloved." a single tear burned down Diomid's neck, soon joined by far more from him.
     

Chapter 17

      Alexi took a deep breath and gently wiped away his tears from Diomid's neck. His own mortality was something he usually tried to avoid thinking of, like so many people did, but having it so near, relatively still stung horribly. Even having known of his fate from change over didn't help very much. There was so much Alexi wanted to do with his life and knew he wouldn't have the time.
      "Live today, young lord Alexi," Arkay told him. There was a gentleness in the older man's eyes Alexi had never seen from him before. "And there may be some things I can do to make what time you do have more pleasant."
      Having heard of the long wasting his older brother Lukian had suffered, Alexi bowed his head to Arkay gratefully, "I thank you, my Lord."
      "I expect you to work for it." Arkay smiled softly, then glared at Ilira who had swatted him hard with a field strike. "Hold on, wench. I was playing."
      "Diomid isn't," she pointed out.
      "Love, love," Alexi purred, realizing Diomid was still horribly upset at the news. "Please come back to me, my sweet." he tried to wrap himself all around Diomid and guard him from his own thoughts. *I love thee, Diomid.* he sent, trying to draw him out.
      "I'll be all right." Diomid's voice caught in his throat. "I didn't know it was so soon."
      "'Now is for as long as we shall take and spring shall last beyond the mists', beloved." Alexi quoted the classical poet, Mikhail Otreyavich. Arkay nodded in recognition, or possibly, perhaps, approval.
      Still aware of the other two, but deciding Diomid was far more important, Alexi turned Diomid to him. Smoothing the tears from his lover's face, Alexi looked into his gray-blue eyes and vowed, "I'll love thee till the stars fall from the heavens and earth stills in its course, though I lie in deaths arms for eternity awaiting thee, my beautiful, beloved Diomid."
      "I wish I had thy way with words, my most beloved Sasha." Diomid's lip still quivered as he fought back tears. Alexi kissed it, trying to put all his feelings into the simple, physical gesture. For a single moment Diomid pulled back, "I'll love thee till the sun stills in her course and spring lies eternal on the plains of the north, my exquisite, beloved Sasha."
     
      Ilira leaned against Arkay with a sigh. Alexi and Diomid's words of love tore at her heart, not in jealousy now, but in compassion for their brilliant joy in each other which would far too soon be cut short. No, I'll certainly not do anything to drive them apart if I can help it. She vowed to herself.
      "Nor I, little one," Arkay whispered to her alone and she could feel his sorrow like a burning brand at her back. "Nor I," never before had Ilira thought the great Sharm Lord Arkay would be moved by such a thing. "Few people ever truly have wanted to know me, Ilira. Oh yes, my heart is not yet made of stone. No matter what my detractors may say of me."
      Thinking back to the winged figure slumped in grief when he had thought he had killed her, Ilira recognized how much Arkay felt things, although he rarely expressed them. Even more than her apotheosis before their transfer, his far simpler empathy now touched her heart even more deeply. She clasped his hands tightly, trying to think of her gratitude and caring for him.
      He chuckled inaudibly, her only sensation that being of the motion of his chest against her back. "Clever little lord, learning to speak like a sharm lord." he whispered, lipping at her ear.
      She had to turn away from the other two men, their embrace now far more passionate than platonic. Curling up in Arkay's arms, she let herself drift in his wonderful place of mists and lights.
     
      Arkay reminded the two young men they were not alone, *If you do not wish to provide Ilira and me a show, you might wish to remember we are here.*
      Alexi's eyes got huge as he looked up from kissing young Diomid. *Whoops!* He tried to gently discourage Diomid from continuing. Diomid was having none of this at first, managing to somehow get out of his pants and almost into Alexi's already. A low, deep rumble rose from his throat and Arkay flinched back a few cents as Diomid turned his gray-blue eyes on him, now smoky with desire but glaring at him in annoyance at being interrupted. Then he hesitated and Arkay had to bite back a howl of laughter as Diomid fumbled for his pants to cover himself and tried to cover up his lover's state of undress at the same time.
      *It's all right.* Arkay let his humor at this situation spill over into his mental tone. *Ilira hid as soon as you two began getting a bit too carried away,* he stroked her fine, soft hair. She murmured and rubbed up against him much like the house cat had earlier. Although Arkay certainly hoped she wouldn't try to claw him the way he had. The fire had burned down quite a bit by the time they got themselves settled again. "Would you like me to stir up the fire?" Arkay asked quietly.
      "No, actually." Alexi said softly, curling up with his partner under a gold and brown quilt. "Unless you are chilled."
      Arkay realized it was probably for the best for them to be able to have the close contact afforded by being under one blanket and smiled. "If you have any more of those then." Diomid pointed out a burgundy and maroon quilt. As Arkay pulled on the corner of it, he noted it was far larger than he had first thought. "Why the quilts tangled up with the pillows?"
      "Because we sleep out here in the winter." Diomid grinned shyly. "Its too cold in the bedroom."
      Arkay laughed. "Your fault for picking an end suite."
      "I know. We like it anyways." Alexi pulled the blanket around both of them more firmly. "It only really got bad around Year's Turning."
      Ilira blinked sleepily, coming out of her shallow trance, "I'm certain the excuse to nest here in front of the fire has nothing to do with it."
      "No, not at all," Diomid settled down against Alexi more firmly and Arkay had to hide a grin as he picked up on what was going on under the covers. With a careful whisper of power, he blocked Ilira's awareness so she wouldn't get caught up in their surreptitious love making. She stroked his thigh, letting him know he had been too late.
     
      With a dreamy contentment, Diomid let his eyes unfocus as he looked towards the dying embers of the fire. He had so badly wanted the reassurance of Alexi's life and love earlier, he had almost taken him then and there despite the others' presence in the room. Now held and filled by his love, he drifted, barely aware of his surroundings.
      "Do you think we will be able to get another foal from Tira next year?" Alexi asked. Diomid sent his thoughts of love and gratitude for the discussion being one he could safely ignore.
      Alexi sent no words in return, but rather caressed him sweetly with his thoughts. His hand caressed him in other ways as well. For the longest while, Diomid simply enjoyed loving and being loved by his mate.
      "You have been silent for a while, Diomid." Ilira's voice broke into his reverie. The comment jarred him enough the tension building within him reached its peak. Diomid cried out softly as he and Alexi came together in their gentle, quiet passion.
      Finally aware of his surroundings again, Diomid realized they had fooled neither of their guests. "I had been otherwise occupied."
      Arkay chuckled softly, "You do have a silver tongue, my lad." Only then did Diomid recognize his double entendre.
      *Feel better, my love,* Alexi sent, almost silently.
      Diomid held him tighter and sent back, *Yes, thank you my beloved mate.* "Only for certain things, my Lord Arkay. Sasha often causes me to be tongue tied with his beauty."
      "You flatter me, my love," Sasha's sweet voice still thrilled him with its clarity and tone.
      "It isn't flattery when its the truth, Alexander." Ilira added and Diomid could feel his lover's face turn hot with blushing. Giving up on all pretense of trying to be subtle, Diomid turned his head and pulled Alexi down for a long, tender kiss. He never tired of kissing Alexi's sensitive lips or playing with his so skilled tongue with Diomid's own. "How long have you two been paired now?" Ilira asked with a laugh.
      "Six months," Arkay's voice was distant as Diomid concentrated on Alexi. Finally they broke off their kiss. Diomid could see Alexi doing his best not to laugh.
      "What's so funny, sweet," Diomid settled back down into Alexi's arms.
      "Sharm Lord Arkay had to answer for us, silly." Alexi's breath tousled Diomid's hair.
      "Someone asked a question?" He blinked, still a bit dazed.
      This time Alexi did laugh, "Are you going to come back to earth, or shall I have supper sent to you?"
      "Address it to heaven," he stroked Alexi's hands silken hands, smooth again after the hard work of last summer.
      Now Arkay laughed and he looked to see his mentor shaking his head, "What an amazing way with words you have, Diomid."
      "Ah, but nothing like my beloved," Diomid leaned back against Alexi comfortably.
      "So, as we were speaking of earlier," the sun lines around Ilira's eyes and mouth tightened. Diomid cocked his head at her, after finally remembering she couldn't hear his sending her the image of a question. "Oh, sorry Diomid, I didn't realize you had missed so much. Yes, we were speaking of finally fulfilling the veiled's demand for a child by Alexander."
      "Please, Ilira. I don't think I've been called Alexander since I left the sharm. I really do prefer Alexi."
      Diomid could overhear Ilira mull over the fact he called him Sasha, but decided not to push the issue. Then he realized he was eavesdropping and pulled back more into himself. "So," he said to keep his mind contained to its own business, "you have come to decide that perhaps bearing a child would not be as horrible a thing as you once thought?"
      "I don't know that I thought of it as horrible, exactly." She lowered her eyes.
      "Then why did you strike out as Alexi in fear when you were first approached with the idea?" Diomid forced her gaze up.
      *Easy lad,* Arkay sent with an image of how to do so more gently.
      Ilira blinked a few times, "I don't know it was fear exactly."
      "Possibly terror?" Diomid pushed.
      "Yes, damn you!" Ilira snapped. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell." She leaned back against Arkay again.
      "Yes, you did, Ilira." Diomid told her.
      "All right, so I did. What difference does it make?" Her voice became shrill again.
      "Because if you don't face your fear it will eat you alive, Ilira." Diomid let his own voice become soft and soothing. "Fear is not a way to survive childbirth."
      Ilira gasped and turned to Arkay. "He's right, Ilira." Arkay told her, stroking her short hair. "Maybe a Gen could survive it afraid, but not a lord."
      "Yes, that's what I fear. I don't want to die, Diomid." Ilira rushed on. "Can you understand that?"
      "Yes, I can," Diomid placed an impression of a finger to her lips to silence her before she could interrupt. Arkay nodded approvingly. "Have you not thought of all the sharm lords you have taken in transfer?"
      "What does that have to do with it?" She asked softly when he released her to speak.
      "If I were to fear transfer it would kill me." Diomid told her bluntly, looking straight into her hazel eyes.
      "True ... oh," her eyes widened. "Now I see," the corners of her mouth turned up in an exquisite smile.
      "It is a bit similar." Arkay told her. "If you don't fight, it is far less dangerous. No it is not completely safe, but then you survived transfer with me." He grinned at her as she turned to him.
      "Oh it was worth it, Arkay," she gushed and Diomid grinned at her. It seems Arkay had pleased her tremendously. Then he and Alexi were treated being observers as she and Arkay kissed passionately. It was a bit odd for Diomid to watch his ex-lover and his mentor in such an intimate embrace.
      Diomid looked away and saw Alexi's eyes darken with interest as he observed the other pair. *Which would you prefer, my love?* He added an impish bite of humor.
      *Do I have to chose?* His response made Diomid have to cover his laughter with a small cough.
      Whispering softly, Diomid added, "You would have Ilira, even beyond the desire to have a child?"
      Looking more than a bit ashamed, Alexi asked, "Would you love me less if I said yes?"
      "Never, beloved," he reassured Alexi. "I didn't know you had any taste for your own kind."
      "Anyone but you and I would not speak of it." He looked into the coals of the fire. Night had come, and the orange glow cast deep shadows over the people in the room when Diomid waved the lights down. "Thank you, Diomid."
      "I thought you might like some more privacy than earlier." He grinned, knowing full well Alexi didn't need light to see by.
      "You were bad, taking advantage of me like that." Alexi's hand stroked his flank and at that moment Diomid realized he too could see in the dark.
      "A moment," Diomid whispered, trying to regain his mental equilibrium. He closed his eyes. Still he could see the other people in the room, as ghostly shadows lit by their own internal light. Shivering briefly, he clasped onto Alexi's hands. *Is this zlinning?* He sent an image of his own perceptions.
      "Not quite. Interesting though," there was a long pause to Sasha's commentary. "I think, perhaps, congratulations might well be in order, Sharm Lord Diomid."
      His gasp of shock must have penetrated Arkay's awareness. Suddenly there was a hush in the room and Diomid felt as if the lights had all been focused on him. He blinked and then noted his eyes had been closed. *What is going on?* Diomid tried to sort all the conflicting information intruding on him.
      *Easy lad,* this time Arkay's sending almost hammered him into the floor, so overpowering were the myriad overtones and depth. Diomid could pick out lust, delight, confusion and more before he back pedaled rapidly trying to retreat from the overwhelming magnitude of all the data. "Easy," this time the simple, spoken word helped him focus. *Like this, Alexi,* he accidentally picked up on Arkay's sending of help to his partner.
      Sweat stung Diomid's eyes as he finally managed to extricate himself from the morass, with Alexi's calm presence to support him. Physically and mentally, he leaned heavily on the smooth, slick feel of his mate. For a moment he flailed about again when he realized he had never felt such a thing before in his life. Panting from all the mental effort, he concentrated on the physical feel of Alexi's tentacles twined between his fingers. "I'm back. I think," Diomid heard his own voice quaver uncertainly. "Lets try that again, shall we?" He asked rhetorically.
      "Let's not, lover." Alexi stroked his sweat damp hair. The cool air in the room felt wonderful.
      "I didn't mean earlier." Diomid essayed a grin. "I meant speaking clearly."
      "It seems you got your voice back." Arkay's presence seemed to dance with what Diomid guessed was laughter. *On the mark, young Sharm Lord Diomid,* this time, while the sending was not over strong, the impact of the information was.
      "What is it, Diomid?" Ilira asked, odd dark swirls seemed to be either confusion or irritation.
      *Confusion,* Arkay clarified, making Diomid shake his head trying to dispell his own befuddlement at so much going on all at once.
      "I'm not entirely certain, Ilira." Diomid stated as plainly as he could.
      "You are two of those rare lords who gets a chance to watch a Sharm Lord go through some of what you did when you went through change over, Ilira and Alexi." Arkay chuckled gently. "Let him go for now, Alexi. I'll catch him if he gets too lost in his new senses."
      Diomid scrambled for his balance before Alexi could release him and found it not so bad as he would have thought. "Thanks," Diomid said, ironically. He sent a tiny stab at Arkay with his field and was fascinated to see it shatter into countless, harmless little sparks against the older man's suddenly hardened light. Curiously, he reached out with his mind to touch the place where his lance had faded. At first it was hot to the touch, like a bruise, then it faded rapidly. Fascinated, he watched that single spot to see if it would change.
      The spot he was watching like a cat at a mouse hole, suddenly yanked at him. With a yelp of surprise, he tried to get away. It chased him until he could hide his self behind what seemed to be a bright, translucent, glowing crystal monolith. A door opened in the face of the stone and he scurried inside.
      "Enough, Arkay," Sasha laughed. Diomid looked around, blinking and trying to reorient himself. "He's as green as a young colt. Give my lover a chance to figure out which way is up before you start chasing him." With a sigh, he relaxed within the safe confines of Sasha's presence.
      "I didn't know Sharm Lords went through anything like this." Ilira asked softly, almost timidly. "What is it?"
      "What you are zlinning is a new Sharm Lord trying to figure out how his wings work." Arkay told them all, reassuring Diomid as well. Not entirely sure of reality at the moment, Diomid had to look at his own arms to make sure he wasn't growing real feathers after Arkay's comment.
      Eyes looked back at him! He tried to hide again, but when he looked back they were still there. "It's all right, Diomid." Arkay told him.
      "Who's looking at me?" Diomid squawked.
      "You are, silly," Alexi laughed. "As soon as you told me to wait a moment, eyes began appearing in the mists of your field. At first I wasn't sure of where they came from or really what they were, but they became more distinct as time went by. I figured they must be your manifestation of your status as a Sharm Lord. Like Arkay's is the winged figure."
      "Your sight is really clear, if you can sense your own manifestation directly, Diomid." Arkay seemed thoughtful. "How do you, Alexi, know all this information about Sharm Lords? And by the way, Ilira, none of this is for sharm gossip."
      "Yes, m'Lord," she said quickly, with a sweep of her field which fascinated Diomid yet again. The interplay of light and shadow against the silk pillows intrigued him to the point where he only noticed Alexi had been calling his name when he felt a stinging pinch on his backside.
      "We are having a conversation here, Diomid." Alexi laughed as Diomid rubbed the sore spot on his rear. "Or at least trying to. As I was saying, I know about these things because I know how to listen and keep my mouth shut at the same time. That and until Avilan found Karola at Sergei, it was thought I would be the next Lord Azov. I, myself, for all I like Avilan as a person, don't know him very well then. He would have scared me senseless if he had approached me when my brother died."
      "Avilan is a sweet man, why would you have been afraid?" Arkay asked.
      "For all your intelligence, m'Lord Arkay, you do have some blind spots." Ilira, of all people, corrected him. Diomid gaped at her. "All lords, unless they know them personally, are terrified of Sharm Lords."
      "You didn't seem so afraid of me, little one." Arkay said softly.
      "I knew you, a little bit, and, well, I wasn't entirely sure I wanted to live." Even in the darkness, Diomid could sense her shrug. He tried to comfort her with his field. For the first time he directly sensed a lord's reaction to his own nager as her body of light stroked his own in return.
      "That is really interesting." Diomid mused, trying out this new trick with Alexi, but instead of a simple caress, Alexi returned a complex interaction of light and shadows which felt almost like a kiss.
      "All right, both of you, quit playing." Arkay laughed again. "I mean it this time," he glared, his attention feeling like the warmth of the now almost completely dead fire. Reminded of which, it would be a cold night with no fire going in the fireplace.
      Diomid grabbed a blanket from the pile and wrapped it around himself. He stirred up the fire and added more wood to it. Soon he had a cheery blaze again, dispelling the chill invading from the stone walls, despite their wood paneling. As soon as he was done, everyone else joined him, all cuddled up together. "I really like this, actually," Arkay said softly, his arm around Ilira. "All I could ask for now would be coffee, or even better Arilith."
      With a soft chuckle, Diomid got up and padded over to a hidden cabinet near the hearth. Careful to shield what he was doing with his body, he made up two kettles. He put both over the hob and then after some more fiddling, pulled out his stash of small edibles. "Not the chief's finest cuisine, but I thought might suit."
      "You wouldn't happen to have any other sorts of treats hidden away, would you?" Arkay was uncharacteristically diffident. Although he, along with Alexi, made a direct line for the dried figs and dates. Ilira looked at them cautiously, until Arkay fed her a date, then she was as bad as Alexi about them. "Simes and dates," he shook his head, grinning.
      "Sasha calls them 'Sime food'." Diomid lightly kissed Alexi's now sticky lips.
      "He's right." Ilira agreed enthusiastically.
      "Actually they're pretty good for Simes, more sugar than perhaps necessary," Arkay paused when Ilira nipped at him, "but otherwise quite nutritious."
      Diomid was still thinking about Arkay's other request. Ah-ha! He finally figured out exactly what he had meant and chuckled softly, "Arkay, I didn't know you indulged in such things."
      "Only when Avilan isn't around to chide me for them." Arkay winked, his heavy features set off by the golden light of the fire. "He says they are bad for my health. And while he's right, I do like them. Karola is even worse."
      "As long as Ilira knows the likely result as well." Diomid looked at her carefully, not quite remembering what her stance was on such pleasures.
      She looked confused for a moment then Diomid caught her sidelong glance at Alexi. "I don't have a problem with it." Ilira purred, stroking Alexi's hand briefly. Alexi looked startled, then Diomid caught his well hidden flare of interest.
      *A convenient excuse, my love?* Diomid sent to Alexi with a wicked lilt.
      Bright laughter and a gentle plea was Alexi's response. Diomid got up again and this time, after working a rather sticky lock, which he had deliberately left that way, he produced a small pipe and a good sized quantity of his favorite hashish. "Was this what you were after, my oh so decadent, Sharm Lord Arkay?" He grinned as Arkay's eyes lit with enthusiasm.
      "Ah, a son after my own heart, Diomid." Arkay pronounced expansively. Soon both the coffee and tea were ready and everyone got their choice of beverages. Ilira tried the coffee and decided it was the work of the devil. Alexi wasn't too sure of it, and thought he might try it again later, but decided tea was more his thing at the time. Arkay started off the pipe, and Diomid was certain the older man was some sort of djinn from the sheer quantity of smoke he managed to get out of it. With a wink, Arkay blew a smoke ring and then sent another one through it. "Oh my, yes," he purred, the years engraved on his face falling away with his relaxation, making him look almost as young as his spirit seemed to be.
      Ilira still seemed a bit unsure until Alexi took his turn with the pipe, showing her exactly how to handle the implements with tentacles as well as fingers. He and Alexi had spent more than a few evenings simply lazing about smoking, nibbling at various things, drinking tea and talking for long hours into the night. The incredibly heady mix of the sweet, musky smoke and the dark, rich roasted aroma of coffee blended perfectly. Diomid purred as the familiar, lush warmth of his own reaction to the hashish reached his senses after he took his turn with the pipe.
      Tentatively at first, then with growing confidence, Ilira drew on the pipe. Blue smoke trickled upwards as her eyes closed to concentrate. Her following grin was the wickedest thing Diomid had ever seen. "Like, my lady?" He whispered.
      "To quote Arkay, oh my, yes," she leaned her head back in utter abandon. Arkay leaned over and kissed her neck. Ilira gasped and as her eyes opened Diomid could see her pupils were fully dilated.
     
      As soon as the bathroom door clicked shut behind them, Alexi started babbling. "But I can't take advantage of her like this. She's a lord. Ilira couldn't possibly, really want me. Its only the effect ..."
      "Hush," Diomid was more than a bit dazed by now himself. "Did she, or did she not invite you before we began smoking." He leaned against the cabinet, hoping it would be more stable than the floor. Not really, Diomid noted.
      "Do you ...?" Alexi looked at himself in the mirror. In the pitch dark room, Diomid wasn't entirely certain what good this was supposed to do. "I forgot what I was going to say."
      Diomid giggled. He usually hated it when he giggled, but this time was different. "Alexi, love."
      "Yes, my beloved Diomid?" He purred and Alexi's hand stroking the side of his face turned his giggles into a moan.
      "Ahem, yes ..." Diomid licked one of Alexi's tentacles. "I thought you had to use the bathroom?"
      "Oh, yes," fortunately hashish didn't affect a Sime's sense of balance as badly as it did his own. The sound of running water reminded Diomid this might be a good idea.
      More than slightly fuddled, Diomid leaned against Alexi, "You share?" He didn't wait for an answer.
      "If you do." Alexi leaned back. This was a big help until Alexi moved. Diomid yelped as he lost his balance. Alexi's hand under his elbow steadied him until the floor stopped tilting. "The floor is level, my sweet."
      "Could have fooled me," Diomid shook his head, a big mistake. As soon as he was finished with his business he turned around and sat down. "Better. Now ..." he tried to remember what it was he was going to say. "Oh yes, of course I share!" This came out far more vehemently than he had planned.
      Alexi tipped his head back and laughed wholeheartedly, "You, my beloved mate, are very, very intoxicated."
      "If I weren't it would have been a horrible waste of good hashish." Diomid pointed out. Cleaning up was a quite interesting procedure and for a while he focused on the process. Being given a hand by Alexi made it even more interesting.
      "Ah, but do you have any interest in Arkay." Alexi asked him, surprisingly.
      "No, not really," Diomid just couldn't think of another Gen in that way, even when he could barely stand.
      "Thank you, my sweet," Alexi's kiss was like molten fire. "Now I won't worry about Ilira not being able to consent."
      "As long as you save some for me." Diomid purred, stroking Alexi far more than absolutely necessary for hygiene.
      "Always, beloved." his eyes seemed to glow, even in the absence of any lighting in the room.
     

Chapter 18

      The first thing Alexi noted was the lazy grin on Arkay's face. He looked like a large, content tiger sprawled across the cushions holding court. Ilira was still trying to blow smoke rings and Arkay was teasing her by withholding the information on how. Her tentacles on the stem of the pipe caught his attention. Alexi had never had the opportunity to possibly bed another Sime when he was not so post he hardly knew what was happening.
      Diomid's arm around his side gradually slid down until he gently was pushing Alexi towards the waiting couple. Meeting Ilira's darkened eyes, he felt himself drawn into their velvet depths. She held out the pipe to him and he took it from her as he sank to his knees amidst the pillows. Although as tried to blow a smoke ring Alexi failed abysmally. Diomid chuckled softly. Alexi handed it to him, "You try it."
      "Doesn't hurt to try." Diomid's wink was not very subtle. Trying to swat Diomid with his field was an even more abysmal failure than the smoke ring.
      "Don't try it, lad." Arkay laughed, sounding incredibly carefree. "I couldn't control my field at this point." The cool mist feel of him surrounded them, but with none of its usual bindings. It drifted, wandering as it would.
      Diomid grinned as he managed a perfect smoke ring. "Like that," he pointed with the pipe stem.
      Alexi hooked it with a tentacle. For a moment it seemed to be solid and come towards him. Ilira laughed, "You looked so surprised, Alexi." It broke into fading wisps.
      "Shouldn't I have?" He asked. Alexi picked up one of the remaining dates. Holding it between his lips, he offered her half of it.
      Ilira leaned forward onto her hands to take it from him. Irritably he swatted at Diomid's hand as his lover seemed to push him even more forward. Their lips met and Alexi stole a quick kiss. She hummed back at him with the contact. He opened his eyes briefly to see Arkay holding his hands up as if to prove he had nothing to do with it. Leaning back, he grinned at Ilira's single minded pleasure in the sweet fruit Alexi had given her. "Was the hum for the date or the kiss?"
      She leaned forward again, "Lets try the latter again. I'm not entirely sure." Her fine, if sticky, lips were a bit of a surprise to Alexi. He stroked the side of her face, feeling the sharply drawn features so near the surface. The warmth of her, so very unlike the cool softness of Diomid, was fascinating. Alexi felt her weight shift and looked to see her batting at Arkay's hand.
      Chuckling softly, he broke off the kiss, "Arkay, I don't require the help."
      "Neither do I," Ilira said bluntly, turning to glare behind her.
      "Couldn't resist," Arkay patently lied.
      Figuring he was as well hanged for a sheep as a lamb, he pulled Ilira onto his lap. She squealed and struggled against him, not particularly hard, he noted. Her lithe body squirming in his lap roused him as no one but Diomid could. Kissing her again, stilled her struggles completely and she pressed her warm body up against his. Her fingers twined in his hair. Then he felt someone else's tentacles stroke down his neck. He shivered at how very good they felt. Returning the favor, he ran his hand under her loose shirt. Someone unlaced this, he looked at a broadly grinning Arkay.
      "I prefer to do my unwrapping, myself, Arkay." He complained. Undressing his partner was always one of Alexi's favorite things.
      "You two were taking so long in the bathroom we were starting to wonder if you had gotten locked in." Only now did Alexi notice Arkay was not wearing his shirt anymore. For a moment Alexi was confused between the glorious sight of Arkay's bare chest and Ilira's sitting on his lap. Alexi caressed Ilira's shoulders with his tentacles and her gasp broke the deadlock. He kissed her open mouth, feeding on its lingering sweetness.
      "So very good," Ilira purred, letting Alexi slide her shirt off her the rest of the way. He tossed it into the growing pile of clothes. She turned to face him completely. There was something else Alexi had forgotten till now as he stroked her curved flank. She's female! He stopped while looking at her even more closely. Her head was tilted back to look up at him, "Something wrong?"
      "No, nothing," his hand shook momentarily as he explored her smooth skin. "I just, well ..." he felt like a total fool and tried to extricate himself with another kiss. The delicate skin of her cheek without the slightest trace of stubble distracted him again.
      "What is it?" She asked gently.
      Alexi felt himself blush as he never had before, "Well, I, ummm..." He looked into her eyes. Unable to zlin at all reliably, he looked for his answer there. They held no trace of contempt, so he forged on, "I've never ..."
      "Been with a lord?"
      "Well, yes." he kissed her, hoping this would satisfy her.
      "Or been with a woman?" She whispered so very softly he thought it might have been the fire.
      "Yes," he murmured the same way, trying not to think of how humiliating the situation was. He had no idea what to do now. Even his earlier desire had been banked by his confusion. "If you don't want to continue...?" Alexi prayed she would think of some way out of this horribly embarrassing disaster.
      "Do you not like women?" She whispered against his chest as she moved her lips down his body.
      "Never had the chance," he gasped as Ilira flicked her tongue over one of his nipples.
      "It isn't so very different, my sweet." Diomid stroked his flank. Alexi hadn't even been aware of his nearness and stiffened in surprise at having been overheard. "Would you like Arkay and me to leave?"
      "No," Alexi said in a normal tone, making even himself jump in surprise. "I mean, if Ilira doesn't have a problem with it."
      "I don't," she murmured, working her way even lower. Before she could slide off his lap completely, Alexi divested her of her single remaining garment, the small undergarment she had worn under her pants. Arkay's eyes reflected the firelight, the rest of his face now shadowed. Alexi arched backwards, trying not to force her with his hands as she took him in her mouth after sliding his own loose pants down. Diomid wrapped his arms around Alexi's chest from behind. Caught between the two of them, Alexi lost all vestiges of his earlier reticence.
     
      Arkay looked on from the shadows. Often hashish left him to abstracted to have any great physical desire, but the young people in front of him seemed to be enjoying themselves tremendously. Feeling more than a bit like the observer set to record a sharm tale for the titillation and arousal of someone else, he leaned back further into the darkness. They were so very beautiful together though. Indolently, he stroked himself, not out of any real desire of his own, but rather from the influence of the others.
      The ruddy gold of firelight played off the bright gold of Diomid's still rather short hair and Arkay found himself looking into Diomid's gray-blue eyes. An eyebrow raised at him in question. Arkay tried to send a gentle negative. Although it seemed not to work, as it never did when he was under the influence, Diomid nodded acceptance anyways. With a tiny bit of humor, which only reached Diomid's eyes, the younger man nodded to a place slightly to Arkay's right before he returned his attention to what he had been doing. Arkay reached down through the overlapping pillows and throws to find a tiny bottle of scented oil. What an extraordinary young man, Arkay thought as he put a bit of it to good use.
     
      Ilira shivered and burrowed further under the blankets. Peering out she noticed all the doors but the one to the hallway were open. Chilled, she curled up to the nearest warm object.
      "Sorry about the cold, but it was a bit stuffy in here." Alexi's normally pure voice was slightly raspy this morning.
      "If you smoke too much, you'll lose your sweet tenor, Alexi." She thought of the wonderful time she'd had last night. With a sigh, she curled up all the way under the blankets again.
      He stroked her hip, "We don't do it very often and my voice will be back to normal by evening. Thank you Ilira, you were quite gentle, considering."
      "Considering we were all fairly intoxicated?" She grinned at the memory.
      "I wouldn't say fairly, m'lady." Diomid's soft chuckle made her look up from their nest. For some reason he was curled up with Arkay. "After I opened the doors and one of the windows, I didn't want to disturb you two." Ilira had not been entirely certain how much Diomid picked up and bit at her lip as she realized he had caught on to her taking advantage of Alexi's state upon waking. "I do it too," he winked.
      "I think most who like to be taken tend to." Arkay smiled softly. "Or at least that has been my experience." He seemed completely content, despite the fact Ilira could remember, at no time, his having joined them in their sporting. "Not to my taste, precisely, Ilira." With these words she let it drop. Diomid waved up the lights partway. She blinked as she realized how low they really were. "Since you haven't the experience of these two reprobates," Arkay glared at the two young men. Diomid looked up at him with a patently false expression of innocence. Arkay tapped him on the forehead with a finger in correction, "Hush lad. Now, as I was saying, Ilira," she listened up and noticed how low his voice really was, "your eyes and ears will be a bit over reactive for a few hours still."
      "I had just noticed that, Arkay," she started out speaking way too loudly and ended up almost whispering. Alexi chucked soundlessly against her back. "What an odd hangover," Ilira mused.
      "Better than an alcohol one," Alexi whispered.
      "Anything is better than an alcohol hangover." Diomid vowed. "I got drunk, once. Never, never again."
      They had left an absolute mess on the hearth stones. "If you can use any help to replenish your stores, let me know." Ilira also noted the pipe and hashish had been put away entirely.
      "Actually the hardest to get is the fruit." Diomid gave up on trying to look over his shoulder and went to Arkay's side. "And of course the coffee."
      "I had wondered where you managed to get that." Arkay looked down at his companion. "It was excellent coffee."
      Diomid shrugged with all the elegance of a Southerner. "Same place I get my hashish. Almost as expensive, too," he shook his head.
      "Have you been playing in the selyn market?" Arkay shook his head.
      Diomid looked over her shoulder at Alexi, "Well, a couple of renSime transfers early in the month won't short Sasha."
      "No it won't and I am certainly not going to punish you for it, as long as it doesn't become a problem." Arkay laughed, "After last night I am tempted to try to find your supplier though."
      "I'd rather be able to tempt you to return." He grinned the gamine expression which had first so attracted Ilira, "Both of you."
      She blinked in surprise, "You want me to return as well?"
      "I would like you to stay." Alexi said.
      "But ..." she blinked back sudden tears. "You don't have to have me hanging around for the deal we talked of yesterday."
      With a nod Diomid added, "We would both like you to stay, on one condition."
      She stiffened slightly in Alexi's arms, "And that is?" Ilira had no idea what he wanted.
      "If either of us tells you to shut up when you're in need, you'll listen." Diomid shook his head, laughing, "You are a delightful woman, Ilira, except ..."
      "I know" she blushed. "My mouth runs ahead of my brain when I'm near transfer."
      "Maybe I could help," Alexi offered.
      "Would you?" she pleaded. All her adult life she had dreaded being around anyone from turnover to transfer for fear her mouth would get her in trouble. Even working, she had a hard time keeping from snapping everyone's head off.
      "So that's why you avoided me then." Diomid said in wonder. Arkay tisked at the younger man and he blinked in surprise.
      "Don't respond to unspoken commentary, Diomid." Arkay corrected him.
      "You do." Diomid protested.
      "I'm older and meaner than you are." Arkay retorted. "Learn to control yourself first."
      "Why do you do that?" Ilira blurted out. Oops! she leaned back as two matching pairs of light blue eyes focused on her.
      Alexi answered her, "Because Sharm Lords sometimes have a hard time distinguishing between spoken and unspoken words. If your thoughts are very clear on an issue, then it sounds like they were spoken aloud. I have to warn you, I do the same thing when I'm distracted."
      "That's because you are an unacknowledged Lord, Alexi." Arkay said and he gasped in her ear. She shook her head to clear it of the overloud noise. "If you chose, you are free to change your clothes to match your station."
      "Why now?" Alexi asked.
      "Because of Diomid." Arkay nodded. "Besides, you are almost of age anyways, and I would have put through the change then even if Diomid had not jumped the starting line."
      "I certainly don't want my ascension." Ilira said with absolute sincerity. "I have plenty of work to do as is."
      Arkay laughed, "These two have been working as an ascended pair for the last two months. I don't think I've damaged them that badly."
      "Look at my ribs after sparring sometime." Diomid groused.
      "Good for you. Keep you out of trouble." Alexi told him.
      "I've seen the bruises he's left on you, too, Alexi." Diomid looked at him. "Although better bruises now ..."
      "... than dead later." Alexi finished. "I know."
      "So, I would love to learn to control my tongue after turnover, Alexi." She turned to look at him. "Thank you for your offer."
      "You are more than welcome." He kissed the bridge of her nose. "Does this mean you'll be staying?"
      "Yes," she grinned, looking into his bright green eyes.
      "Good," Diomid concurred. "Welcome to our household, Ilira."
     
      Some mornings Diomid wondered how anyone managed to get out of bed. With two Simes in his bed, the problem had been exponentiated. They were so warm and smooth. He burrowed back under the covers.
      "Rise and shine!" Was Arkay shouting in his ear? He tried to peer out. Sasha grumbled and pulled him back under. "All three of you."
      "Go away," Ilira muttered, burrowing her chin even more firmly between Diomid's shoulder blades. An arm like a steel clamp held him locked in place. "Don' wanna."
      "Wake up!" A note of exasperation had entered Arkay's voice.
      "I'm trying," Diomid muttered through a mouthful of chestnut hair.
      "Hush," a very warm tongue licked him from chin to brow. He licked back. "Tasty," Sasha began nibbling at his lower lip.
      "Not that way," a freezing draft made him yelp. Diomid couldn't breathe. Both of them were glued to him like a pair of limpets. "Oh," Arkay chuckled and inserted an icy hand. Sasha screamed. Diomid could hear his ribs creak.
      "Quiet," Ilira nipped him. He yelped again.
      "All Simes out of the bed." Arkay's voice dropped to a growl. Diomid shivered at the chill as they released him. "Sorry about that, but you were strangling him."
      "I'm fine," he looked up into a pair of very sheepish eyes.
      "We didn't mean it," Sasha blinked sleepily.
      "Really we didn't," Ilira looked up at Arkay.
      "I know," he put his arms around both of them. "But you do have to let him breathe occasionally."
      Diomid rubbed the sleep from his eyes and scooted to the edge of the bed, "We were doing fine until it was time to wake up."
      "You can't laze around in bed all winter." Arkay took pity on him and tossed him a robe. It had been left on the wall backing the fireplace and was nicely warm. "At least if I can't." Sasha wrinkled his nose at Arkay. "Don't say anything."
      "I hadn't planned on it," Sasha yawned hugely. Ilira copied him.
      "Don't do that!" Arkay yawned as well. It was catching. Diomid fought not to follow suit. His jaw ached with the effort.
      *Do it,* Sasha prodded. Diomid yawned. It felt so good his whole body quivered.
      "Diomid!" Arkay yawned again. "Stop that."
      "I didn't say anything," without sending, he thought of how nice and warm the wool flannel covers had been, or the thick soft cover, or how deep the featherbed caressing his body had been. Arkay gazed longingly at the bed. It was working. "What are your plans for today?" Diomid couldn't remember anything which couldn't be put off, till thaw really.
      "Sorting the ..." he yawned again. "Not you two." Arkay gave the two Simes and exasperated swat with his field. They'd been working together in the salle for the last month and a half now and had gotten quite good at letting Diomid take the brunt of Arkay's attentions. It bounced off his field like a feather against a rock. "Grrrrr," he fought his eyelids threatening mutiny.
      "Come on, Arkay," Diomid patted the fluffy mattress next to him. "Does it really matter if we sort the bandages right now or this afternoon? Are the little ones keeping you up?" Now that he was closer, Diomid could see the dark circles around his mentor's eyes. Arkay rubbed at them again, a gesture very unlike his normally quite fastidious self.
      "Some," he sat. "Karola's taking the brunt of it, but Avilan and I try to help as much as we can."
      "He's with them now?" Ilira sat at Arkay's free hand.
      "Yes, he says he's not going to leave her side until spring." Arkay yawned again. "Not that I blame him."
      "Nor would I," Sasha climbed back into bed and rested his chin on Arkay's shoulder. He ended up yawning right in Arkay's ear.
      "Good thing you're not a carnivore," Arkay looked at Diomid's partner askance. "That was awfully close."
      "Sorry," he rubbed at it. Diomid put his arm around both of them.
      "You look frazzled, Arkay," Diomid told his mentor. "Are you sure you feel up to charging off first thing in the morning?"
      "Always have," he looked around. "Better to keep myself busy."
      "Perhaps you should learn to relax a bit," Diomid tightened his grip a bit. "This time of year, we're not doing anything which can't be put off."
      "Well enough," Arkay gave him an amused look. "Since you're being so Sergei bossy, what should I be doing?"
      Diomid flinched a bit at the reminder of what he so greatly feared, but charged on ahead, "I think you should come back to bed with us and take a nap. I'm not ready to get up and neither are my housemates." He flipped the cover over all four of them suggestively. It was still warm from their bodies.
      "If I'm not putting anyone out," his fingers began investigating the laces of his kador.
      "Not at all," Ilira helped.
      "Please," Sasha reached around and tugged at the hem. "Two Sharm Lords are better than one."
      "If you're sure," another huge yawn cracked his jaw. The look he gave Diomid was pleading, even though no trace showed in his nager. Diomid simply nodded and gave Arkay a hug.
      "Come on," he brushed neat Arkay's hair over his ears. The man's braid was a bit lopsided and he smiled at this further evidence of Arkay's weariness. "We have time this winter. Take advantage of it."
      "Take advantage of what time you have, Arkay. You won't get a second time around." Sasha's calm words sent a frission of sorrow up Diomid's spine. For his lover, it was so very true. Their eyes met. Sasha nodded gently to him in understanding.
     

Chapter 19

      Alexi sanded the last line in his record book and nibbled on a tentacle in thought. He could see Diomid and Arkay wrapped around Ilira through the partially opened door. After a very brief nap, he'd been unable to sleep anymore, but it seemed none of them were ready to get up yet of their own accord.
      This was one thing he truly did enjoy about winters. The time to catch up on all life had to offer. He adored the time to simply be with his friends and family without the press of constant work. Not that anyone in the Demense truly worked so hard, but still he cherished these quite times beyond measure.
      Ilira snorted softly and burrowed even deeper into the bedding. Last month had been a revelation in more ways than one. While Diomid had given their new housemate transfer, he'd gone to Sharm Lord Avilan.
      Neither Sharm Lord had gotten very post, as they were both outmatched for their partners, but he and Ilira certainly had.
     
      "Are you really sure you want to do this so soon?" Avilan looked at him and raised an eyebrow. The man was stunningly beautiful, if no where near as fascinating as Diomid. Arkay snorted and flipped a leg over the arm of the chair. "Don't say it," Avilan gave his housemate a dark look.
      "I wasn't going to," he held Vanya in his arms, rocking him gently. "You seem to have started something, you two." His grin was a bit wicked.
      "Hush, Arkay," Karola grinned right back at him the same way. "Soon."
      "I'm ready," his eyebrows wiggled lasciviously. Alexi's nerves were wire taut with need and nerves. He'd never asked for anything remotely like a fertility transfer before.
      "I'd have refused if either of you were any younger," Avilan, now Sharm Lord Azov looked straight at Diomid. "Do you think you're up for this?"
      "I don't know," Diomid's blunt response made Alexi's heart stop. "I'd like to think so, but I know I'm going to be wanting a great deal of support. I am very young to become a father."
      "You have the damned slickest tongue I've ever heard on an adolescent," Karola gave him a hard look and a swat with her field. "Cheeky too," she snorted as Diomid stood rock steady.
      "Sometimes," his field swayed in a fascinating shrug. How he wished he could be the one to take Diomid this month, but the young Sharm Lord was still a hair behind him and couldn't give him a completely untrammeled transfer right now.
      "What do you think, Arkay?" Avilan turned from them. For the first time, Alexi let himself zlin his Lord a flicker with a lateral towards transfer.
      "Three things, Avilan," he counted on his fingers, "First, they are well old enough, even if their household is not long standing, second, Lord Alexander has no living children and third, the match has been encouraged by the veiled."
      "Oh," Avilan whispered. "Well, then, I don't suppose I have a great deal to say in the matter."
      "Of course you do, my Lord Azov," Alexi held out his tentacles respectfully. Avilan turned back to him and raised his gold eyebrows in question. "I would not take what is not freely offered."
      "Does that go for all three of you?" He looked most pointedly at Ilira.
      "Yes," she bowed her head and extended her tentacles. Alexi hoped he was the only one who could see them tremble.
      "Truly, Ilira," his face turned serious and grim. "You are almost certain to get pregnant. Do you want a child?"
      "I don't know, my Lord Azov," Alexi's palms were sweating. "I do know my duty."
      He grimaced and looked at Arkay. "Duty is such a cold parent."
      "It isn't just duty though," she reached over and took Alexi's hand.
      "Oh?" He looked back. "And what else?"
      "I do know the veiled do not make such selections on whim. If they say the cross is good, then perhaps I ... then perhaps we had better heed them." Her hand trembled on his.
      "Why now?" Avilan asked.
      "Because ..." she looked at Alexi, her chin quivering. He caressed her face, trying to reassure her it was all right, even as he wasn't sure himself. "Because I know our child will have a good home, even if something happens to me."
      "That was true before, Ilira," he couldn't go into this based on lies.
      "I've come to realize there is more to Azov than my own little corner." She gulped audibly. "I would repay him for his regard."
      "Then I ask you three remain with Azov until the child is an adult, or is given to the care of our household." Avilan's eyes bore into all three of theirs. "Particularly you, Diomid."
      "Me?" He squawked unmusically. "Not that I am complaining, but why?"
      "You are the Sharm Lord, young though you may be. It is ultimately your responsibility to see to the continuation of your Demense." His lover flushed darkly and clutched at his own wrists. "Didn't mean to snap, youngster."
      Diomid flipped his head, as if shaking off flies, "No, I deserved that." Now he stood straight and tall. "I had forgotten my responsibilities to Azov."
      "And I hadn't yet informed you of them, Diomid," Arkay pointed out.
      "If I'm to be a father, then informed or not, the responsibilities are mine." With Diomid's words, Alexi's heart tried to burst with pride.
      "And done," Avilan nodded. "Permission granted for one attempt," he held up his hand before Alexi could protest. "I've had other households asking for fertility transfers and there's only one of me to go around."
      "What of ... ?" Alexi cut her off with a sharp squeeze. She looked at him in question. *Why not Arkay?* The question came through perfectly clear.
      "I'm flattered, Ilira, but I doubt any lord would wish to have transfer with me for the sake of fertility."
      "I would," Alexi smiled at him. After having spent so much time with the man, he'd become actually rather intrigued at the idea of getting his laterals on him.
      Arkay snorted in amusement. "So be it," he shook his head. "If this month doesn't work out with Avilan, we'll give it a try."
      "Really?" He heard his own voice break ignominiously. Putting his hand to his throat, he checked. "I meant to say, at your will, my Lord Arkay."
      "I've not had a Lord so interested in me since Karola, particularly one more than four days behind." His smile transformed his face, as it so easily could. Again he noted the strong resemblance between his lover and the older Sharm Lord. It was as if the same sire had stamped his mold on both get. "Most are afraid of me," his grimace was physically painful to Alexi.
      "May I?" He asked Ilira. She nodded with a smile of understanding. As Sime graceful as he could, he stalked across the room to Arkay. The child he held so gently only made the man's fear of rejection more painful to behold.
      Alexi knelt at Arkay's feet as if coming to land from flight. "I would know thee, beloved of my Lord Azov and his mate if they so will, for I do not fear thee and would caress thy bounty with mine own life in thy hands." He prayed Arkay would take the familiar form as he meant it, as if speaking to a peer and not a person to be feared. A pulse of warmth and support from Diomid reassured him his lover was not offended by the offer.
      *Of course not silly. I'd do it if I could.* Diomid's wry tone made him work not to choke.
      "You'll have your chance, bold young Lord," Arkay's hand caressed his head as if conferring a blessing, which in a way it was. He looked up into his light blue eyes, so like his lover's. "I'm not going anywhere." Alexi caught him flick his attention towards Karola and had to hide a smile. So that's the way the wind blows. Arkay nodded with a smile.
      "When you are ready," he knew if Arkay was to be fertile, he'd have to be on the best transfers possible for a while. "I wouldn't interfere." Alexi left with what unspoken.
      Karola snorted again, "He's got you there, Arkay."
      "True enough," Arkay tipped his head. "Clever young Lord, too."
      "Thank you," he bowed his head and returned to Ilira's side.
      "Your offer speaks well for your heart, Lord Azovich." Avilan tapped his finger against his lips. "Here or in your rooms?"
      "Not here," Diomid spoke up first. "I don't know about you, but I do know these two are going to be a bit uncontrollable when we let them go."
      "True enough," Avilan chuckled. "Shall we?"
      "Right now?" Alexi felt his eyes widen.
      "You're what, twelve hours out?"
      "More like four," he rarely felt the effects of need with Diomid around. It wouldn't be long before their cycles truly matched.
      I'm a shade over," Ilira's voice was already tight, but she'd been great with the stress this month. Only once had Diomid thumped her for being an idiot. She gave him a quick grin.
      "Then let's get on with our welcome to the next member of Azov." Avilan's eyes seemed to glow with pleasure.
     
      Avilan always enjoyed doing fertility transfers. Intellectually he knew this was why the most powerful Lord and Sharm Lord were usually the rulers of a Demense, but emotionally he reveled in being able to play such an important role in the generation of new life.
      This was his first since the birth of his children and he found himself even more wrought up than he thought he'd be. "Now Alexi, I don't want you trying a shunt. I'm over you right now, by almost two days. For this, don't try to control at all." He took refuge in reminding himself of technicalities.
      "None?" He blinked with eyes so very like his father's Avilan had to close his own. The resemblance was startling. "Is there a problem?"
      "No," he shook his head getting his thoughts back under control. "Memories of T'aszo."
      "He was a good man, from what I've heard," Alexi looked down towards their hands.
      "The best," he shook them gently. "Now, as you've already been ascended, I'm going to have to push a bit to make it go through with enough force."
      "Is that why he's been stuttering on me?" Diomid looked at them.
      "Most likely, yes." Avilan realized how very naive young Diomid was.
      "I didn't want to say anything," Alexi looked over his shoulder at Diomid.
      "Tell me these things. We can talk about it with Arkay and work it out." Even though he obviously had far more sense than most young people. Avilan chuckled.
      "What about me?" Ilira still looked a bit white around the eyes for what they were going to do.
      "If Diomid accidentally ascends you, I won't be happy about it, but I'd rather that than an abort." He held up a hand to fend off protests. "I don't expect it, as he's not been conditioned to a Sharm Lord's transfer yet, so don't worry about it. If it happens, we'll deal with it then."
      "Well enough," Diomid bit at his lower lip. "After this, you'll tell me how to do it?"
      "Yes, or Arkay will," he grinned at the young man. "Now, the first thing is to relax." He shook Alexi's stiff hands again. "Remember, this will probably be one of the best transfers of your lives. You have no worries at all. Let the two of us do the worrying." He caught Diomid's eye and gave him a wink. Diomid grinned back.
      "Do we ever get this sort of treatment?"
      "Yup, when it's your turn to be daddy," he led Alexi over to the other couple. The poor young man's knees were shaking so badly he could hardly walk. Pushing all thoughts of T'aszo and Lukian as far from his mind as he could, Avilan held the trembling young man in his arms. "Easy, youngster," he stroked Alexi's soft hair. "Relax."
      "Easy for you to say," his voice trembled. "You're not embarking years of 'why?' and 'do I hafta?'." A grin peeked out from beneath need.
      "Already been there," he chuckled, tucking Alexi's head under his chin. Diomid was cuddled up with Ilira in much the same way. Slowly at first, so as not to startle him, he let loose the first of the restraints on his own field. It meshed with Diomid's in a way which was eerily familiar. He looked at the young Sharm Lord again. He feels like Arkay! Avilan noted in his own mind.
      *He is my uncle, at least.*
      *I would have said brother.* Diomid's shy at Avilan's sending nearly made both Simes skitter until the young man clamped down with a control he would have never thought to sense in an adolescent. Keeping his thoughts under careful shields, he studied Diomid's field work. Yes, brother at least. After years of stock breeding, Avilan well knew the power of inbreeding and could see the markers clearly in Diomid's form and nager. He no longer had any doubts at all about Diomid's paternity. His father was Vanya Sergei.
      He kept this observation to himself by returning his attention to Alexi. The young Sime was looking at him curiously.
      "Later," he mouthed.
      "I know," Alexi's mouth tightened into a line.
      "Does he?"
      "No," Alexi shook his head. It took a bit for Avilan to recover from the revelation, but Alexi seemed content to wait. He's so like T'aszo. The lithe form of the young Lord in his lap was painfully sweet and bitter at the same time. Avilan knew he'd be a weeping, soggy mess after this transfer. T'aszo had died so very young, with so much left to live for.
      Alexi's hand on the side of his face brought him back out of his ruminations. "Are you up for this?"
      "Yes," he nodded, pushing down the lump in his throat.
      "You don't zlin it," Alexi told him, too much like his sire. Avilan had to look away again. "Diomid, wait."
      "I know," he looked up from Ilira. She too seemed a bit skittish and shy, her roniplin glands still mostly flaccid. "This isn't quite working." He shook his head. "I have an idea." On silent feet he padded from the room.
      "What is he up to?" Avilan's curiosity tickled the back of his mind.
      "Something good, if I know my lover," Alexi's grin was echoed by Ilira.
      "Don't jump," Diomid said from behind him. Ilira chuckled wickedly, her need roughened voice tugging at Avilan's deepest yearnings. He took a deep breath and found a soft, silk cloth drift down to cover his eyes. What? He blinked behind the blindfold. "It's a game," Diomid's voice dropped into a deep purr. "I think you'll like it."
      Blindfolded, Avilan reached out with his other senses. The presence of need so near called to his own. He'd never done anything like this and the novelty of the situation snapped the fetters of memory like so many cobwebs. Ilira gasped as well. "Diomid!"
      "Yes," Diomid's voice was a dark rumble. Alexi chuckled softly. The feather light caress of a Sime's handling tentacles made all the hair on Avilan's arms stand up. Gentle fingers lifted away his undershirt.
      "So much fur," hands caressed his chest, tracing the muscles twitching beneath his skin. He shook his head, wishing he could see his tormentor.
      "No, no," a soft tenor told him and a single, damp tentacle touched his wet lips. He moaned, reaching for the contact with his field.
      "Warm honey in sunlight," Alexi purred, "so very beautiful with all Diomid's eyes upon us."
      "As is the touch of fur and scent of musk from you two," Diomid's comment clarified Avilan's senses until he could touch the sable cloaking him from head to foot. The image of a large, dark cat circling him came to mind. He could see the muscles slide beneath the silky coat and glowing green eyes focus on him.
      Avilan smelled real fur. He leaned back.
      "Hold still," Alexi told him. "You'll like this," something softer than a breath of air caressed the side of his face. He groaned, loosing himself in delicate caress. Selyn sparkled in the darkness. Something tugged at the ties on his pants.
      "No," he shook his head.
      "I would have you comfortable," Alexi's hands slid inside the waistband. "I don't want you bound afterwards."
      "I don't think I'll be a problem." How had this gotten so out of hand so fast?
      "Let me look," Alexi's voice came to him with a breath of air against his ear. Avilan felt his cheeks heat in a blush. To be looked at while unable to see made his skin tingle with the touch of Alexi's sight. "Yes," Alexi purred, wrapping his arms around Avilan's waist and sliding his hands upwards.
      Wetness followed the young Lord's touch. Avilan's skin shivered beneath the intimate caress. His mouth watered, sweet roniplin pooling with his rising desire. A smooth tongue tickled the curve of his jaw. Avilan had to lick his lips before his mouth overflowed.
      A squeal made his eyes roll up in his head. Alexi's mouth caressed his own. He opened to him. "Yes," Alexi breathed, nipping at Avilan's lower lip. The short, sharp bites made him groan again. Strong fingers dug into the muscles of his arms. Give Avilan reached for the darkness of need within his grasp but not yet held.
     
      Diomid had Ilira quivering beneath his hand. Certainly she was enjoying their sport, but he really wished Alexi would hurry up. He didn't know how much longer he could hold her off. Ilira's tongue between his fingers made him groan.
      "Yes, my little Sime," he caressed her face with his fingertips, staring into her blindfolded eyes. "Soon," her skin was chilling beneath his touch. *Now, Alexi,* Diomid leaned forward into Ilira's embrace and kissed her. Their tongues danced as her hands flattened against his shoulder blades. Darkness reached up and yanked at the absolute core of his need.
      The rough tug opened up his field to Ilira's demands. Ice shattered beneath the hammer blow of his selyn. The fire in his soul flared madly for the sky and then was damped as need swallowed the cloying warmth. Ilira's lips quivered against his. "Easy," he purred, stroking her back.
      A triumphant male shout caught his attention. Avilan's head was thrown back. Alexi had bitten the base of his throat. The scent of roniplin was heavy in the air, "Diomid." Ilira's voice quavered.
      "A moment," he touched her lips with a fingertip.
      She rubbed her cheek against his. Pink laterals flicked out as Alexi pulled Avilan against his chest. Diomid had never seen a transfer, for all he'd enjoyed so far. A bit surprised, he noted it didn't take long. Alexi's legs wrapped around Avilan's waist.
      "Whoops," he stroked his lover's back. Avilan was nibbling his way down Alexi's neck. Alexi turned sightless eyes on him. Ilira nipped him on the shoulder. Distracted, he clutched at Alexi's thigh. Ilira squirmed against him on his lap. "No you don't," he could feel her try to take him, even through his pants.
      "Sasha," he wiggled out from under her. This was getting out of hand fast. "Avilan."
      "Um, yes," his chest heaved in a deep breath. "Alexi, little one," he murmured against Sasha's neck.
      "Want you," his hips shifted restlessly on Avilan's lap.
      "You're not going to take me without help," he slid backwards and Diomid blinked as he realized the truth of Avilan's statement. Wow, he'd never seen why Avilan was called zherebets before.
      "I thought you said you weren't going to get too post," he murmured in Avilan's ear as he untied the blindfold.
      "You helped," Avilan's blue eyes twinkled with amusement. As they both slithered backwards, out of the way, the two Simes discovered each other. Ilira was still blindfolded and squealed loudly as Sasha nipped her on the back of the neck. Immediately she dropped to all fours. Sasha chuckled softly and nipped her again, going to all fours as well.
      She turned her face and licked the side of his mouth. He licked back. "They look like a mare and stallion," Avilan murmured to him.
      "Not like you do," Diomid dubiously eyed the evidence trying to escape Avilan's untied breeches.
      The man's blush made him grin up at him. "I'll take care of things later."
      "You don't want a hand?"
      Avilan blinked at him in surprise. "I wouldn't think you'd be interested."
      "How could I not with that going on in front of me?" he waved at the couple still sniffing and licking at each other. The memory of both their hands on him made his loins tighten despite the shallowness of his own transfer. "I'd rather not have any desire which might go astray this month." He crawled over and got a bottle of oil out of the drawer.
      "Why don't we go into the other room," Avilan winked at him.
      "Good idea," he grinned. "Have fun, you two." Neither gave any evidence of hearing him.
     
      Afterwards Diomid found himself acting as another sort of comforter. "Do you wish to talk about it?"
      "Yes, no, I don't know," Avilan looked down at his hands. "I haven't."
      "Then you should," he brushed the older man's hair back from his face. "If not now, then later," Diomid kissed Avilan's temple. "Nothing you say will be repeated by me." He swore, looking Avilan in the eyes.
      "Even to Arkay?"
      "Even so, unless it is necessary to save a life," somehow he knew the exact words to say, as if someone were placing them in the back of his mind. Avilan sighed and slumped against him. "I get the feeling you've never truly grieved for those you've lost."
      "He's so much like T'aszo," Avilan's beautiful voice cracked. "I wish ... I don't know what I wish." He turned his face towards the window.
      "Not to forget," Diomid turned his face back. The depths of Avilan's heartbreak battered against his mind. "Never forget them, Avilan." He felt as if he were ancient, not the mere youth of his years. "Remember the joy you shared with them. Remember the years you had with them. Remember the warmth of their skin and the sound of their voices. Remember their hopes for Azov in fulfilling them."
      "I couldn't give Lukian peace, not after T'aszo. I hurt. It was too much. Val had to do it. He was and is so young. I wanted to go with him. I wanted peace."
      "But Karola warmed and healed your heart again," he stroked Avilan's rough cheek. "I remember Lukian. He was very kind to take me in when I was homeless and lost."
      "I don't remember his finding you," Avilan turned his face away.
      "He found me crying in the Sergei creche after having been teased for my size." Diomid's heart clenched at the memory of years of loneliness. "He brought me here and gave me to the keeping of his own. They never mocked me for my bastardy or lack of height."
      "No one who looked to him would ever tease a child." Avilan's heavy field lightened. "He despised those who would pick on the helpless or weak."
      "I wasn't weak," Diomid looked at the scars of numerous childhood fights on his knuckles.
      "But you couldn't defend yourself against harsh words with your fists," Avilan brushed his fingers over them. "I would guess you were more sensitive than most."
      "Yes," he sighed. "Their words were too true. I am a bastard, Avilan. There's nothing I can do about it."
      "You can find out who your father is."
      "Yes and no," he clenched his jaw. "I think I know and to be sure would be worse than being a bastard."
     

Chapter 20

      As the thaw passed and summer wore on, Diomid found himself more and more at loose ends. He knew this was a unique time for Ilira and Sasha. Her pregnancy was proceeding as normally as anyone could expect, but there was always an unease about her he didn't like.
      "Arkay, tell me true, is all well with her?" He rested his chin on his hand as they watched her and Alexi work a pair of young mares. Diomid knew Alexi would have much rather been riding Kiri.
      "No," Arkay sighed and looked towards them. "If I told you to get Alexi as far away from her as possible when her time is close, do you think you could do it?"
      "No," he shook his head. They had become inseparable over the course of the spring and early summer, but it was not the true bonding of a household, but rather a brittle clinging which was not right. "It isn't as if I don't love them Arkay, but I find myself more and more the outsider."
      "Understandable, my lad," Arkay rested his hand on Diomid's. "You're far more intelligent than either of them."
      "What does that have to do with it?" He sighed, realizing how true it was.
      "You confuse them. There are things you want to talk about they can't understand."
      "What of Avilan?"
      Arkay snorted and looked at him, blinking. "True enough. Possibly it is that they are Sime." He shrugged.
      "Honestly I think it more likely," he returned to watching them. "Is there something wrong with me?" For he still wanted Sasha with all his heart and soul. The distance between them was eating at him by the day. Particularly as each day brought him closer to loosing his love forever.
      "Now there's a bitter thought," Arkay grimaced. "And unfortunately one Avilan pointed out. Their child will probably not deal well with her father dyeing young."
      Diomid flinched, his arms burning at the thought. He rubbed at them in irritation before answering, "You're right."
      "Unfortunately," Arkay sighed. "Ideas?"
      Reaching for the pool of calm within himself, Diomid waited. Ideas flickered behind his closed eyelids. The sense of centuries of hooded and veiled figures standing behind him made him shiver. They answered his question. "Yes." Completion filled his waiting mind.
      "I would like to know what it is, Diomid." Kiri chomped at his bits nervously.
      "Oh, sorry," he shook his head. "Find Ilira a partner."
      Arkay's breath hissed between his teeth.
      "No, no," Diomid held Arkay's wrist. "Sasha has said he feels obligated to her. We both like her, but our household is not entirely stable. She needs a sharm lord, Arkay. I'm not one anymore." That was the problem. Speaking the words had brought it out.
      "Are you absolutely certain this is not jealousy speaking."
      Diomid simply looked up at him and opened his mind. *I would have her with us more than he, Arkay. She is a beautiful woman and my first love. Particularly as she has mended her ways, she's a fascinating Sime and well worth love. We are not for her.* All his regret for being unable to honestly fulfill Ilira's true desires colored his sending.
      "Both of you?" Arkay sighed.
      "Yes, I'm afraid so," Diomid nodded. "As her time nears, Sasha's fears grow. Neither of us are ready, Arkay. The veiled set this in motion. We would ask them to take over before we fail."
      "Ilira probably senses your reluctance."
      "She has doubts of her own. We only exacerbate them." Remorse made his throat tight. "Their daughter deserves better, Arkay. We're too young."
      "So be it," Arkay stared into the distance, as if communing with unseen persons. "Yes, it will be done. They have found another for her. A position will be opened for her at Kirov as stud manager. Their daughter will be raised with Ilya's youngest as a sib if Ilira does not choose to keep her."
      Then he turned back to Diomid. "This is one of the bravest things I have ever seen a man do, Diomid."
      "She isn't my daughter by blood, Arkay." His hands tightened on the reins.
      "But she is all of your child." Arkay looked at him. "To give up a child for their well being is for the best."
      "We only ask Ilira name her Alexandrya." Diomid admitted to Sasha's complicity with his choice of words even though they broke tradition to chose a name before birth.
      "You've talked about this with her?" Arkay's eyes widened.
      "Yes, all three of us," Diomid grimaced. "Ilira was first. She's so lonely Arkay. Find her someone, please."
      "You have my utmost respect, Diomid, now and forever." Arkay clasped his hand. "I'm as proud of you as if you were my own son."
      "Would your son have given up his own child?" He ducked his head. He felt as if he'd failed somehow. Shouldn't he feel more loss? Shouldn't they have at least tried?
      "Hush," Arkay squeezed his hand. "If you didn't have second thoughts, you'd have the heart of a stone. And I would certainly hope my sons," he grinned briefly, "would have the sense to place the well being of a child over their own wants and desires."
      "Congratulations," Diomid made himself smile, and realized a great weight had been taken from him. His spirit felt free and light again. "I mean it, Arkay, truly. I think you will make a great father."
      "I've had a bit more practice with life, youngster." Arkay's grin was so broad his eyes vanished into the wrinkles of laugh lines around them.
      "What's so amusing, you two?" Sasha's green eyes flicked between the two of them. Ilira held back, as she'd taken to of late.
      "Arkay's going to be a father." Diomid burbled.
      "Congratulations," Sasha reached out and clasped Arkay's wrist.
      "Wait a moment, Ilira," Arkay smiled and made a hooking gesture with his field.
      "Yes," her lower lip trembled. She was near tears again. Diomid's heart went out to her. She was trying so hard to put a brave face on everything. She rubbed at her eyes, trying to hide it.
      "Oh, little one," Arkay held out one of his wings. More graceful now on horseback than afoot, she scooted beneath its protection. "There you go, youngster."
      "Thank you," she sniffed. "I don't know why I keep crying."
      "You're pregnant, Ilira. Pregnant women feel things very strongly."
      "But mares don't."
      Sasha snorted. She blinked at him. "They do. This girl here is a brat when she isn't pregnant." He patted his mare on the neck. Her foal bounced over to sniff noses with Kiri. The stallion looked away and the youngster opened his mouth in submission. "Children," Sasha's generous smile lit his face, even though Diomid could sense the nerves behind the gesture.
      "I have news from the veiled for you, Ilira." At Arkay's words, the hope dawning on Ilira's face told Diomid he'd done the right thing. "You will be going to Sergei for your confinement and then to Kirov as stud manager for next year." Sasha sucked in his breath. Hope also lit his face.
      "Thank you," Ilira bowed her head. "I wouldn't have asked ..."
      "Hush," Arkay told her gently. "If you wish, Ilya's youngest is still in the sharm with her mother. Salya is a wonderful woman and a very good parent. She would be more than happy to take in your daughter."
      "Bless you, Arkay. Oh Gods, I hadn't wanted to ask, but ..."
      "I know," he said, thankfully not mentioning Diomid's interference. "These things happen. Your child is wanted. Never doubt she will receive the best of care."
      "Even if I can't do it?" But now Diomid knew she'd survive childbirth. Before he'd known she'd not. The shift stunned him speechless. This was the first time he'd felt the hand of foresight so very strongly. Arkay gave him an odd look.
      *Diomid, I want you tested by my father,* he sent. "Who rears a child is best determined by the welfare of the child. If you don't feel secure, how could she?"
      *Is foresight a Sergei trait?*
      *Like yours it is,* Arkay's gaze seemed to bore right through him.
      "You're right, Arkay." Sasha leaned over and kissed Ilira on the cheek. "Thank you, Ilira. You've given me a blessing I can never repay."
      "Not on your own, my sweet." Ilira grinned at him. "I want her too, but I also want what's best for her. I love her, how could I not." She caressed her slowly expanding waistline.
      Diomid breathed a sigh of relief at their distraction of Arkay. He had no desire to fall under the scrutiny of the man he now believed to be both his father and grandfather at the same time. "We all do, Ilira," Diomid told her sincerely. "Thank you."
      "Thank all of you for not binding me. I was so afraid."
      "That is not healthy, little one," Arkay finally turned away from Diomid entirely. "Are you now?"
      "No," her unfettered laughter rang from the ceiling. "Thank you all." The delight she showed was worth more than gold or gems. Diomid had no desire to hurt her. She never deserved it. "I'm crying again."
      "Tears of joy this time, I hope?" Diomid asked.
      "Yes, very much so." She looked at all three of them. "If there is ever a way I can repay you, tell me."
      "Name her Alexandrya?" He asked shyly for his tongue tied lover.
      "I already have," she looked up at Sasha and winked. Sasha blushed and fiddled with his reins.
     
      Diomid rested his chin on his hands. Sasha's lithe form stalked the confines of Arkay's office. Sleek muscle slid beneath his sun darkened skin. He could feel silky hair slide between his lover's tentacles as Sasha finger combed his hair.
      "How can you be so calm?" Sasha's green eyes glowed with health. Diomid could only sigh and watch. His voice was so perfect.
      "It's no use asking a Sharm Lord in need anything," Arkay's deep voice startled both of them. Diomid went back to Sime watching. All eight of Sasha's handling tentacles were twining about his fingers. As he watched, the very tips of his pink laterals investigated the ambient. Diomid clearly remembered the feel of their touch on his arms. The way they reached for his heart and soul like lightning. "Diomid!"
      "Mrmph?!" He shook his head at the smack Arkay'd given him. Then one of Sasha's tentacles reached in his direction. He could see the velveteen skin stretch with each fraction the digit extended from its sheath. His mouth watered in anticipation of its touch. His frame trembled as he prayed for contact.
      "Lover, what has gotten into you?" Sasha's voice managed to break into his reverie.
      "I'm sorry," he had to look away or fall on him like a ravening beast. His body ached to blaze skyward in desire for his lover. Every nerve was singing with the cool promise of his lover's need. "We're still hours out."
      "Hours?" Arkay tapped his fingers on his own desk as he sat. "How close have you two been cutting it?"
      He looked up into Sasha's eternal green eyes and lost himself. Their depths called to him. His heart and soul reached for the promise of release. Hot, perfect, hard tentacles slid over his single bracelet. As if in the distance, he could hear someone moan. His bare wrist was wrapped in living steel.
      "Diomid!" Arkay's voice managed to distract him long enough to realize what had happened.
      "Easy lover," he wrapped his fingers around Sasha's forearms with the utmost delicacy. Fragile nerves sang to him of their pleasure in the contact, but Sasha's tentacle sheathes swelled beneath his fingertips as he retracted them.
      "I'm actually about twelve," Sasha looked up at him though the lock of dark hair which so often covered his eyes. Diomid leaned forward and brushed it out of the way with his cheek. "And I'm rather embarrassed to say I'm not sure where Diomid is."
      "Neither am I," he managed to croak out, nuzzling Sasha's ear. The heat rising off Sasha's body was dizzying in contrast with the cool depths of need showing at his heart.
      "Over, I'd say," the ambient jittered between them and Diomid tried to refocus his attention on Sasha. "Would you stop a moment?"
      He growled, trying to reach through the interference. Without thinking, he turned on the busybody who'd blocked him from Sasha.
      "I'm not going to steal him, but I am going to say one thing. If I ever see either of you out of seclusion within twenty four hours of transfer, on either side, I'm going to take both of you over my knee and paddle you ... when you're not post!"
      "Yes, m'Lord," Diomid realized he'd made a total fool of himself. Sasha echoed him. Their eyes met. "I thought I could wait."
      "So did I," Sasha's tentacles twined with his fingers. "I've been shorting you horribly. I'm sorry."
      "Forget about it lover. I'd have taken him if I could." He brushed Sasha's cheek with his free hand. "I'm glad you got the chance."
      "It was worth it," a wicked gleam came to his lover's eye.
      "How so?" Diomid got himself distracted as Sasha licked his fingers. He wanted Sasha so badly. The months since he'd last had his lover in all ways chafed at him. The only thing he wanted to do was wrap Sasha in his arms, legs and nager.
      "We might want to not discuss this in front of Arkay." Sasha flicked a tentacle towards him.
      "Oh," Diomid blushed furiously.
      "I'm sure it would be absolutely fascinating, if I weren't the subject." The tips of Arkay's ears reddened. "I'm not sure I wish to know exactly what you think of my sexual prowess, young Alexi."
      "Ah, yes," Sasha looked away, and then winked at Diomid. "Suffice it to say I learned a few things."
      "But not to keep your own partner waiting, I hope," a draft chilled Diomid's wrists through the opened door. He looked down to see his forearms soaking wet with roniplin. The sweet musky smell made the hairs on his arms stand up. "Get out of here, you two!"
      They brushed past Avilan as they bolted for their rooms.
     
      "Were we ever so young?" Arkay asked his old friend.
      "I was," Avilan chuckled and leaned against the desk. "I don't remember you ever displaying yourself, before transfer no less."
      "He was, wasn't he," he had to shake his head over the foibles of youth. "Only a teenager."
      "With an equally young partner," Avilan looked down at his hands. "Did I do wrong with them? Alexi's genes are so precious."
      "Truth there," Arkay looked at the green and gold banner over the door. "Azov wouldn't be the same without his animals."
      "Should I step down?"
      "Gods no, Avilan," Arkay stared at him. There were lines on his friend's face which hadn't been there before he'd taken over for the old Azov line after Lukian's death. "You've done a magnificent job with him."
      "But Alexander should have been the rightful heir," he looked towards the door. "He was never given a choice."
      "Have any of us ever been given a choice in our parents?" Arkay thought of Diomid, wondering again who the young man's father was.
      In a reversal of roles, Avilan gave him a bemused look. "If you haven't figured it out, your subconscious doesn't want you to know."
      "Is it really so bad?" Arkay couldn't think of any parentage so ill omened as to make him want to hide it.
      "Yes," Avilan sighed. "I think he knows, in one way or another and it is his story to tell. Perhaps it would be best for him to remain a bastard."
      "Who?" Arkay clenched his fist, hearing his bracelets jangle.
      "No Arkay," Avilan's blue eyes held depths he rarely saw in his dearest friend. Feeling the curb bite at this unwonted expression of negation, Arkay let it drop. "I'm glad they let Ilira go."
      "They were too young," Arkay tapped his fingers on the desk. "But I think it's best it had been done. Alexandrya is going to be quite a Sharm Lord."
      "You know already?"
      He wondered if she would turn out to be a good match for the child Karola bore. Then shook his head. Of course not. His firstborn had to be a Sharm Lord.
      "Don't mate them before they're born Arkay." Avilan snorted. "Besides, she'll be too young." Then he gave Arkay what had to be a mirror image of one of his dubious looks. It was not an expression he remembered the younger Avilan using. "So how do you know she's going to a, be a Sharm Lord, and b, going to be named Alexandrya?"
      "The second is easy, all three of them agreed on the name before Ilira left for Sergei. All the signs are positive for her having a healthy child, so I looked away at the bad luck of naming a child before she's born. The first is from the prenatal draw.
     

Chapter 21

      Diomid glanced at the birth announcement yet again. Three point seven kilos and fifty one cents. Sasha had framed it over their mantle, along with a fantastic portrait of the radiant mother and child. They'd gone for the birth celebration and gotten a chance to see Ilira's new mate, an older sharm lord who seemed to suit her perfectly.
      Well content in her new life, the two of them had left her to it. "When do you think Karola is going to drop hers?"
      "She's not a mare," Diomid gave his lover a swat with his field.
      "You haven't heard her complain recently," Sasha readjusted the ribbons laced between his tentacle sheathes. Diomid could feel the silk slide over the long dark hair on his forearms and purred in appreciation. Ilira had given him his second bracelet and he tapped them against his wristbones. "I am paying attention to you."
      "I know," Diomid stuck out his tongue. "I like playing with them."
      "So do I," Sasha arched his neck coyly. "I think they're sexy."
      Diomid pulled his lover down for a long kiss, "I think you're sexy."
      "Flattery will get you everywhere but out the door, lover," Sasha's eyes heated. "And we are wanted downstairs."
      "I know," he sighed. "Good thing Karola should be dropping her foal sometime this month."
      "And who was it who teased me about calling her a mare?"
      "No one I know," Diomid ran his fingers through his still short hair. A breeze played with the four hairs on his chest and he realized Sasha'd unlaced his tunic. "Burrrr," he pressed up against him. Sasha's delightful laugh made him quiver with more than the cold. His hands cupping Diomid's rear as he pressed him even closer for another deep kiss burned away the last of the chill of the very late ice storm outside.
      "To work, my beloved," Sasha nibbled on his neck.
      "Not like this," Diomid took a deep breath and tried to gather his wits. They hid beneath the sheets. "You are getting me all bothered." He readjusted himself inside his clothes.
      "I certainly hope so," Sasha teased, lipping his way downwards. Not wanting anything more than to go back to bed, Diomid checked what Arkay was doing.
      "Whoops," he pulled back. "We'd better get moving." Sasha blinked down at him. "The baby's dropped and ready."
      "Arkay's?"
      "Yes," he replaced his tunic and reached for his kador. "Even though Arkay's about to skitter himself into a heart attack."
      "Didn't you say something about him having a weak heart?" Diomid could hear the concern in Sasha's tone.
      "Yes, so we'd better be there."
      "Did Karola ask for us?"
      "Avilan did," Diomid settled the shoulders of his heaviest work kador. "He said, and I quote, 'Arkay's been hopeless for the last week. You'll settle him down.' I have no idea what he expects us to do, but we can tote and carry."
     
      "Diomid, you're going to have to second Avilan," Vanya's voice held the note of decades of command.
      "Yes, m'Lord," Diomid went to his side. Together the family resemblance among the three Sharm Lords was clear. Even though Arkay was whiter than snow. "Hold the fields."
      "How?" Alexi could zlin his lover strain to stand in the torrent of Arkay's writing field. Karola was white lipped and tense. This couldn't be good. No female could give birth comfortably under such stress. He went to her and held her elbow.
      "Better?" He asked shyly.
      "Much," she grinned at him. "Thanks," her violet eyes sparkled. "I think I'm doing better than he is."
      "I know you are," he glanced at Arkay, trembling with nerves. "He'll come around."
      "True," she winked and then clenched his hand. "Oh my, these are different than last time."
      "They are each time, little one," Vanya held out his age spotted hand. "My son is being a bit of a ninny right now."
      "I'll be fine," Arkay took a deep breath and some of the tremors in the ambient stilled. Diomid put his arm around Arkay's waist. "Thank you," he breathed. "Much better." Now the fields calmed into something far more soothing.
      "There we go," Vanya sighed. "I'll be catching, but I think Diomid is going to have to stay with you, Arkay."
      "Yes, I think so," he grinned down at the much younger man. "Avilan?"
      "Yes?"
      "Can you back up for Vanya?"
      "I think so," he nodded. "Hmmm, it's much easier now."
      "That's because Diomid is working only with me. You get to deal with the rest."
      "Are you done talking yet?" Karola asked, tapping her toe.
      Arkay opened his mouth and then shut it again without saying anything.
      "Good, because I think I'm ready." She took a deep breath. "As soon as I use the bathroom."
      "NO!" Alexi blinked at the chorus in surprise.
      "Really, I know now the difference." She paused for another contraction. "I really have to go."
      "All right," Arkay sighed and took her other elbow. All together, they managed to help Karola make her way into the other room.
      "Maybe this wasn't such a good idea," she said from where she was sitting.
      *I knew it!* Arkay's mental shout rang his skull like a bell.
      Alexi leaned back. Karola clamped onto his upper arm with a steel grip. I guess I'm not going anywhere.
      Arkay put his arm around Karola, "Time to get up."
      "No it isn't," her eyes widened and he could see her swollen abdomen contract. A sharp grunting noise came from deep within her throat.
      "Get ready to catch then," he slid around behind her and held her close. Together they slid to the edge of the seat.
      "Not here," she protested and then her entire field seemed to draw down into a single point.
      "Good, like that," Vanya knelt before them. "This is a bit slower than last time."
      "Couldn't miss," Avilan seemed to be holding his breath. Arkay rubbed his hands down Karola's body. With each contraction, her field darkened and then recovered, even though not so much each time. Delicately, Alexi brushed her damp hair from her forehead.
      "Bless you," she breathed.
      "Soon love," Arkay nuzzled her ear. "You're doing great."
      "I know," she grinned.
      "Quite jabbering," Vanya chuckled. "You have work to do young lady."
      Karola giggled and then paused. Her entire body strained with effort. Darkness swallowed her field entirely. "Now, Arkay," Vanya snapped. Diomid cracked his field loose. Fire singed Alexi before he could free himself. Karola drew voraciously on her partner, drawing him down so far Alexi saw him falter. NO! He put his hands over Arkay's and threw himself into the transfer.
      Night ripped through him as Karola swapped to Alexi. Ravenous need pulled at the barriers between them. He dropped his controls, letting Karola pull with all her might. Selyn flared and spilled over as she reached satiation. Alexi panted, trying to get himself pulled back together.
      Stars spangled his vision as he tried to get out of the way again.
      "You're fine," Avilan rested his hand on Alexi's shoulder.
      "Could someone finish this?" Vanya's voice was strained.
      Alexi looked down. Karola's eyes were glassy with post and weariness. He knelt before her. "One more little one." He breathed steadily, driving away his own reactions.
      With a shudder, the last true contraction cleared the afterbirth. He caught it and tried to examine it.
      "You don't have to worry about founder," Arkay gave him an amused look.
      "Oh, yes, right," his hands were shaking. There were burn marks lacing his arms and they stung horribly. "What do I do with this?" Alexi eyed the dark mass dubiously.
      "We could eat it," Karola gave Avilan a very jaundiced look. A baby's high pitched wail made them look to Vanya.
      His hands were caressing the tiny infant gently. "There we go, my grandson." The relief on his face made Alexi raise his face to the heavens in prayer. Thank you.
     
      "That was amazing," Diomid knew he was repeating himself, but couldn't stop.
      "Yes," Arkay held his son as if he were made of spun glass. Karola dozed at his side, ensconced in the bed the three of them shared. "Here, sit." He pointed with what was left of his field.
      Sasha shook his head, wobbling badly. "Do it lover." Diomid prodded him. "You worked pretty hard too."
      "If you say so," he sighed and sat gingerly on the edge of the bed. "If I lie down, I'm not getting up."
      "Then curl up against Karola," Arkay's silly grin did detract from his attempt at sternness.
      "Come here, Alexander," Karola patted the bed next to her. "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart."
      "Yes, from all three of us," Avilan sat next to him and gave him a hug. "I didn't know Arkay'd let any of his maternity cases out of his nager."
      "He won't," now Diomid wished he had. He looked into the peacefully sleeping face of Arkay's son.
      "While everyone is awake, what is his name, Sharm Lord Arkay Sergeyevich Azov nee Sergei?"
      A tear traced down Arkay's lined face to fall on the blanket swaddling his son. He looked up briefly and then focused on his child again. With one broad finger he traced the lad's cheek. "I name thee, firstborn son of my blood and my heart, Vayer ..." Karola shook her head no. Arkay sucked his breath between his teeth. "You can't."
      "We can," she nodded along with Avilan. "We give him to you."
      "I name thee Vayer Arkayevich Azov." More tears followed the first but his field rang with joy across the city. A shadowed and veiled figure stood in the corner of the room. Diomid realized he was the only one who could see it. His eyes widened. The figure nodded to him and vanished.
     
      Diomid soon forgot the Veiled figure present at Vayer's birth. "Where's Arkay?" A frantic lord pounded at the door. Sasha spun to face the stranger. *Hush, love,* he stood slowly, trying not to fluster the man further.
      "He's otherwise occupied," Diomid tried not to roll his eyes. It was the third time this week his mentor had begged off work during the heaviest load of the year. "Can we help?"
      "It's my mate, sharm lord Lissa," his eyes were wild. Finally Diomid recognized him from the brief flicker of mint scented nager.
      "Certainly, lord Beris," he fought down a grin. They'd both been excellent students in their prenatal classes and while Lissa was a prima, she looked to be as easy a mother as Lord Karola. "We can certainly help."
      *We can?* Sasha sent him a jaundiced look, complete with yellow skin.
      *Yeah, sure, as long as we don't let them know we don't know what we're doing.* He sent back a shrug. *She's going to require selyn though.* Diomid pointedly zlinned Sasha's depleted public field.
      *Ouch,* Sasha glanced down at his recently healed arms. The reverse transfer into a sharm lord's systems as they gave birth often burned the attending lord as well as the sharm lord in question. But he scurried off anyway to go swipe some from a lord, or a few Gens if he could find them.
      "Where are you exactly?" He grabbed the bag Arkay always had ready behind his desk. Beris' tentacles were lashing out in stress. "Easy," Diomid ran his fingers between them gently. "Are you sure you don't need a transfer first?"
      "I was going to wait until afterwards," the trembling of his nager worsened as they hurried up the stairs.
      *Grab enough for Beris too!* Diomid shouted to his partner. "No you're not, Beris." Diomid looked up into his frantically worried dark eyes. "Alexi will be bringing enough for you too."
      "Bless you," at least Beris looked less like a panicked horse now. "She's so close."
      Sasha caught up with them as they made it to the mated sharm lord's quarters. He pushed his hair out of his eyes again. It hadn't grown out yet enough to braid. Or at least to stay braided. Diomid wished he could take the time to neaten it up again. *Do it!* He couldn't sense anyone else out and about in the hallway.
      With a lunge, Beris turned and launched himself at Sasha. Diomid's diaphragm locked as his mate let Beris clamp onto his arms. But before he could turn away it was over. A deep breath eased the spasms of his muscles. Beris was still shaking his head as Diomid let himself into the rooms he shared with his mate.
      "I'm fine," Lissa rolled her eyes in exasperation.
      "Let me check to be sure," even from here Diomid could tell the young woman was in labor, even though she was far more relaxed than her partner. Not that she'd have to work hard at it.
      "As long as it doesn't interrupt my knitting," a tiny pile of baby garments was growing at her elbow as they spoke.
      Trying to copy his mentor's insouciance, Diomid scanned the woman gently from a few meters away. Her knitting needles kept up a steady clicking. "I'd rather you were walking, but if you're comfortable there, then stay put." He grinned at her astonished look.
      "It really is happening?" She caressed her abdomen as a ripple of tightening muscles went through it.
      "See," he put his hand over hers.
      "You have good hands," she said when she'd caught her breath. "I only thought it was another false alarm." Lissa gave Beris a hard look. "Why didn't you tell me it was real this time?"
      Sasha clapped his hand over Beris' mouth. Diomid could hear the 'I did' almost spill out. "I love you," he knelt at Lissa's feet, caressing her hands. This was much better.
      "And I love thee, my best friend," she wrapped her fingers between his tentacles. "Oh my," she sat up straight, blinking. "Maybe I should walk a bit."
      "Probably so," Diomid took her elbow, after removing her knitting from her vanished lap. "Up we go," he covered his grab for the fields with his assisting Lissa to her feet. Beris sighed and gave him a grateful look. "Could you get me some towels, Sasha?"
      "Fetch and carry are my middle names," he gave an exaggerated bow down to the floor. Lissa giggled.
      "He's cute."
      "He's mine," Diomid chuckled to ease any possible sting from his words. He knew Sasha wouldn't abandon him short of death, but the show reassured his lover Diomid still wanted him. "Anyway, you have one of your own."
      "So I do," she winked at Beris. "Oh my," she took a deep gasping breath.
      "Relax," Diomid purred, letting his field twine with hers to show her what to do. All the sensations of her body transmitted to him. A deep cramping sensation nearly doubled him over. *How in hell does Arkay deal with this?* Beris' field flared with shock before Diomid got Lissa's muscles relaxed again. "That's better."
      "Indeed," she raised a golden eyebrow at him. "Much better," she breathed easily through the next contraction. Muscles Diomid knew he didn't have slid beneath his skin. It was a bizarre sensation, but not unpleasant as long as he didn't fight it.
      "Ready whenever you are, lover," Sasha patted the well protected bed.
      Diomid took a deep breath himself and let all the pseudo-sensations bombarding him come to the fore. A twinge of pain distracted him and he hissed. Lissa's eyes widened. "Easy," he didn't know if he spoke more to her or himself. A tremulous grin focused entirely on him. He rested his hand on her abdomen. Through the touch he could feel Lissa's muscles pull open the birth canal. "Tired of walking yet?"
      "Yes," she nodded.
      "What's the timing?" As soon as he said it Diomid realized this was a stupid question. His mind gave him three fifty two.
      "I haven't been keeping track," Beris flushed bright red.
      "You're fine," he reassure the poor Sime and stroked him gently with his field. "Both of you are."
      "Other than," Lissa paused again and blinked. Her not clenching at him reassured Diomid like nothing else. "Bed," she said and as her knees gave out he collided with Beris in catching her. They cracked heads. He saw stars for a moment. Lissa chuckled at them. So did Sasha. Diomid stuck out his tongue at his laughing mate.
      "You're silly," she wiped her sweaty brow on Beris' chest.
      "Clothes or no?" He waved Sasha towards the windows. The curtains were wide open, showing a riot of fall colors.
      "Don't close them," she waved her hand in the air.
      "Anything you like, m'lord," Diomid gathered together a number of warm blankets. It was early fall, but there was a definite chill in the air even through the well insulated windows. Without the curtains, it was likely to be a bit cooler in here by the time they were done.
      He made sure his hands were warm enough and slid them beneath Lissa's wool robes. "Have you been eating enough?"
      She looked towards the window sheepishly.
      "Lissa," he chided her. "You're a bit thin."
      "I know," she plucked at the blankets.
      "You'll be fine, but I'll be keeping an eye on you and the little one for a while," he realized he could feel her daughter slide the rest of the way into position. "Now relax against me for a bit," he buffered her mind as transition hit. Her eyes grew to the size of saucers. He chuckled at her astonished expression.
      "Wow," she blinked some more. Diomid waved Beris around behind her.
      "Take off the belt first," Sasha pointed.
      "My pants will fall off,"
      "Who cares?" Lissa shook her head. "Simes," she murmured to Diomid.
      "Move it," the had only seconds before the next contraction hit. He didn't quite make it. Lissa's hands clamped onto his. "Don't tense up." He caught her gaze with his, smoothing loose the muscle snarls before they could cramp. "Yes, like that." Diomid kept his breathing steady.
      "You're good at this," she shook her head.
      "Here you go," Sasha sat at her side and wiped her brow with a damp cloth.
      "Bless you," she leaned back into Beris' embrace. "I haven't had this much male attention since she was conceived." Diomid had to blink at this.
      "We have no idea who her father is," Beris grinned, caressing his partner's thighs. "Not that I care."
      "She's ours," Lissa looked back at him. He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Love you."
      "And I love you sharm lord light heels," he licked at her lips.
     
      The delivery of Lissa's daughter went as easily as anyone could have wished. "What is her name, lord Beris Geryavich Azov?" He didn't know who else to ask.
      The putative father winked at him and held the little girl with the fatuitous smile Diomid had seen on the faces of all new fathers. "I name thee, daughter of my heart and my mate, Yiana Lisanova Azov." Then he kissed the girl's pale blond hair. It was stunningly obvious they were not blood related, but none of them seemed to care. Lissa took her daughter back.
      Diomid had to ask as they packed up to leave, "Why?"
      "Lissa's always been quite independent," Beris flicked a tentacle towards the sleeping pair. "We've wanted children for years. When we knew for sure I was sterile, well, we decided to enlist the aid of friends. None of them know or can know who is Yiana's father." His chuckle was wicked. "Lissa had a great time, too."
      "You are a wonderful man," Diomid put his hand on Beris' shoulder. "And I think you're going to make a great father."
      "You don't think less of me for ... ?" He gave his new daughter yet another of those silly looks.
      "Not at all," Sasha told him, echoing Diomid's thoughts. "A father raises the child. He's not the sperm donor."
      "I had meant to congratulate you on," Sasha cut him off.
      "No, Alexandrya is Ilira's." His green eyes looked to Diomid uncertainly.
      "Yes," he told Beris plainly. "Azov has a child in his line."
      "Ah, then I understand," the man's brown eyes darkened. "Will she return?"
      "When she's grown. Right now she's with her mother and her partner at Kirov."
      "A good place under Lord Valentine."
      "We thought so," Sasha breathed a sigh of relief. "We'll put Yiana's true parentage in the genetic records, but no where else. Suits?"
      "Perfect," he grinned.

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