Spearing the Siren

FOURTEEN

      L'aeric stepped from the conference room into the hall, finding it deserted except for Valiskar who strode up to him with his usual intensity, laying a hand on his arm. L'aeric looked up into his piercing green eyes that blazed even when he was calm, warmed at his proximity and demanding gaze.
      "Well?"
      "Everything is well, love," he said softly, Valiskar calming.
      "He's a tough nut to crack. I wondered if I was getting through at all."
      L'aeric looked up at him fondly.
      "He called you my fireball."
      Valiskar grunted, but with a lighter look in his eyes.
      "I wouldn't have to be if people would just do what I want."
      L'aeric laughed, Valiskar looking down at him with a smile in his eyes that did him good to see, after that volatile conversation. He put very little thought into embracing him, wrapping his arms around his slender waist. Valiskar's immediate touch on his head warmed him.
      "I'm glad everything turned out well. I didn't want to resort to violence."
      "Gods, you're sexy."
      A finger tapping on his shoulder made him smile.
      "How sexy?"
      L'aeric leaned back with a smile, his mate's heated, fond gaze looking back at him. Valiskar put a hand on his cheek, leaning down for a delicate kiss. L'aeric got into it when his Dokkalfr leaned back.
      "Unfortunately, there is still business to attend to."
      "I know. You're very distracting."
      Valiskar's gaze softened. "How much do you want to be part of this? I know you said..."
      "I won't do anything to put my people in danger. Perhaps I shouldn't be part of the talks."
      Valiskar nodded. His eyes gentled.
      "I will try to come see you later tonight."
      L'aeric gave him a hesitant look.
      "I thought I would stay in your room. Is that too much?"
      Valiskar's gaze warmed, filling his heart with relief.
      "That will never be too much. Do you have a device?"
      "In my room, yes."
      "Go get it. I'll communicate throughout the day. Try to get some rest."
        L'aeric's eyes gentled. "You don't have to take time out to message me. I don't want to detract—"
      "I want to," Valiskar said quietly, and he silenced with peace in his heart. His Dokkalfr gave him a brief kiss before taking long strides down the corridor, his black coat bouncing against his legs. L'aeric watched him go, wondering how he had ended up here, beside Valiskar Kierin, instead of on the other side of a viewscreen, meeting his mental parries, trying to outsmart him.

      Navileth came from the refreshment room of the suite he'd been given, finding a very different elf sitting on his bed than the one he expected. He tightened the robe around him as the observant gaze of the Ljosalfar naracan settled on him.
      "Come now, surely the pleasure master of Talangul isn't shy around males."
      "You are not just any male. What are you doing here, if I may ask?"
      "That's not gratitude I'm hearing."
      Navi gave him a look. "We both know he would have healed from his injuries. You could have left when you saw he wasn't on death's door."
      Lysandril straightened. "Sounds like a Dokkalfr. Beg for my help then after the fact, act like you didn't really need it."
      Navi raised an eyebrow. "Is this Ljosalfr sarcasm?"
      The light green eyes of the beautiful light elf sobered.
      "It is time, Brigade Commander."
      "And you say when it is time?"
      Lysandril rose, Navi envying the limitless confidence in his eyes.
     "Your people and mine depend on you."
     "What is your invested interest in my people—"
      "We are two sides of the same coin. Our histories tell us that the Dokkalfar were born from a maggot, but I scoff at such nonsense. It's obvious we are not that different, but my people are afraid of giving away their power."
      Navi tilted his head. "That's interesting to hear you say that."
      Lysandril straightened his spine, giving him a look of timeless wisdom that didn't seem to fit the Ljosalfar he'd met in battle.
      "We have lived in conflict long enough. You will bring peace to our peoples."
      Navi looked at him in open curiosity now.
     "And how do you propose I do that?"
     "You know your queen is dead."
     "I was there," he replied in a measured tone.
     "Then you know her twin sister will replace her. An elf very different from her kin. An elf who has been trapped in the shadow of her sister's madness, forced to limit her abilities and skills for fear of her sister's wrath."
       Navi folded his arms across his chest.
      "I know you're going somewhere with this." Lysandril raised an eyebrow before he laughed. "You can't be serious—"
      "Once the Black Citadel is aware of the queen's death, they will seek to quickly replace her, and then they will want to marry her. Entire ages have been decided by elven consort selections."
      "You know about Osric—"
      "He is an enforcer," Lysandril interrupted him coolly. Navi narrowed his eyes.
      "Is it so easy to to judge the relationships of others—"
       Lysandril held up a hand. "I did not intend to demean your relationship, my lord. I only mean that he is not possessive over you. He will be your lover as easily as he would be your sole mate."
       Navileth calmed, only giving him a sharp look.
       "And how would this match benefit Alfheim, assuming I could twist the stars to make it come to pass?"
        "It would benefit both our peoples greatly."
        "You intend for me to manipulate the new queen, a girl who has essentially been held prisoner her whole life—"
      "I would not even consider insulting your honor, my lord."
      Navileth faltered. "Then what are you—"
      "I am suggesting you marry this girl, make her happy, and present the Dokkalfar with an heir. I am suggesting you teach this child what another Dokkalfr could not. I am asking you to influence the next age of your people. To make an attempt to end the wars between our people. The future is more important, and closer, than you think.
      "Imagine the alternative. A traditionally dominant, ambitious, cruel Dokkalfr takes your place, who may or may not continue this girl's imprisonment. An individual who quite possibly will take complete authority of the Black Citadel and its government relations, specifically having to do with Alfheim. Another five hundred years of war. Senseless fighting, senseless death of elves, on both our sides. I believe we have the same heart in this, Brigade Commander Morloc."
      "That might be true, but I am disgraced, a laughingstock—"
      "Has your enforcer not told you how the military feels about you, my lord?"
      Navileth shut his mouth in frustration.
      "He has," he replied quietly.
      "You hesitate for lack of confidence in yourself. The chancellor of the Black Council is half in love with you, say nothing of the council director. You have made powerful friends, Brigade Commander. One of the most influential members of the council is a former lover. You may think your time as pleasure master was a waste, or a disgrace, but in choosing your happiness, you made connections you never would have otherwise."
      Navileth looked down at the carpet as emotion rose in his throat, the source of which he didn't care to name. The naracan took a few steps to him, laying a strong hand on his shoulder.
      "Nothing in your life has been a waste," he said in a quieter, comforting voice that penetrated Navileth's soft heart. "Every decision you've made has led you right here. Your uncommon sensitivity, kindness, and protective nature will easily capture the heart of a secluded elvish princess, with little effort. Your personality traits are perfect for being a mate and father, and that is what your people need more than reclaiming your position as brigade commander. In your heart, you are sick of the fighting, and that is timely, because we have fought long enough."
      The naracan held out a hand and Navileth stared at it before he found himself taking it. They shook, and Navi wondered what madness he had embarked upon.