Into the Heart of the Storm [slash]

Part Four

 Aileas woke very late the next morning. His body ached as if he had just endured a forced march through the wilderness, and he suppressed a groan as he got up from his bed to wash himself. Riding and too much sitting was out of the question today, he decided.

The promise of a whole night had indeed been fulfilled…

Aileas felt his cheeks grow warm as he remembered, and he quickly splashed cold water on his heated skin before he pulled on his eye patch. He hadn't noticed Captain Lorcan leaving, but it must have been just before dawn. If the man wasn't discreet…

No, Aileas could trust him. The general was a good judge of character, and Lorcan was a man of his word, that much was clear. No one would ever know what had occurred last night in this tent.

So all he had to do now was to forget about all this and concentrate on his command over the army. Since the peace treaty with Elatha was being signed, he could reassign most of the troops elsewhere. The borders in the north were still unsafe, and maybe the southwestern islands might want some help to get rid of their pirate problems.

Aileas dressed, broke his fast and then set out to meet with his commanders as usual. This would be an ordinary day with no difference from all the others.

But something was different.

As much as he tried, Aileas couldn't forget.

~*~

Lorcan went about his daily duties as well, but he was absolutely miserable. If he had thought his infatuation with General Whitestorm would vanish as soon as he had gotten intimate with the man, he was sorely mistaken. On the contrary, it was much worse. Lorcan knew now what he would never have again. The memory of this one night would haunt him forever in his dreams at night and distract him by day.

But, worst of all was the understanding that his own feelings ran far deeper than just admiration and lust. That night, Lorcan had seen a completely different side of the general, a side few ever knew of. Beneath that cold exterior lay a young man still unsure of himself, who couldn't allow himself to show any weakness.

But was it weakness to submit to the most natural things in life?

Not for Lorcan or any other man, surely, but for someone who had never experienced such things before, it must have been nothing short of terrifying.

It hadn't taken the captain very long to realize that the general had never shared a bed with anyone. That eye, dark with pleasure, had spoken of nothing but wonder and surprise, and Lorcan had been even more determined to make this experience as pleasant as possible for the other man. He was pretty sure he had succeeded in this endeavor when he remembered the writhing body beneath him and those sweet sounds he had muffled with his kisses. And the very moment Lorcan had kissed the general on the lips, he had been lost.

He loved him. And not just the valorous general or the intelligent prince. He loved Aileas, the lonely young man who had clung to him the whole night like he had been drowning.

And maybe, just maybe, Lorcan had been able to give the general something more than mere physical relief as well.

At least, he hoped so.

The days passed, and the war camp was broken down at last. All the commanders had been given new orders and relayed them to their captains. Lorcan's infantry unit had been assigned to the northern border. It was a harsh, frosty land, the snow never melting even during summer, and the wild tribes there hadn't agreed to a peace treaty like their Elathan allies.

For Lorcan, it was all the same. He'd fight wherever his general would send him.

During all this time, the captain never saw General Whitestorm, and it was for the best. The less he saw the person he pined for, the less the pain. But it was a very small consolation.

"Captain?"

Lorcan looked up from his writing desk at the call from one of his lieutenants. He and his unit had been freezing up north for a month now with some skirmishes against the tribesmen as the only means to keep them from curling up in their makeshift blockhouses and hibernating like bears.

"What is it?"

"Urgent message from the scouts, sir: reinforcements are on their way. It's General Whitestorm himself with some of his best men!" the soldier replied eagerly.

Although it was good news, Lorcan couldn't force himself to be happy, but he tried not to show it in front of his subordinate.

"Good. Tell the men to put up some more sleeping places. I'll clear out this house for the general until more lodgings can be built."

His lieutenant saluted and left. Lorcan sighed and got up from his desk to gather his few belongings. The blockhouses weren't much better than tents, but they all had reliable fireplaces and could be heated easily.

It didn't take the general long to arrive. That same evening, he and his men entered the camp. He had brought an entire cavalry unit, thus doubling the number of Idrisan soldiers. Now they really stood a chance against their enemies.

Lorcan waited at the center of the camp to greet his superior, trying to look calm and unaffected although his heart was thudding like mad.

The general rode on his magnificent stallion, blending in with the snowy landscape in his white fur coat. Just a few strands of red hair peeked out from under the hood.

Lorcan would never forget how impossibly silky that hair had felt.

He bowed. "Welcome, General."

"Thank you, Captain," General Whitestorm answered and dismounted from his horse. "We have brought supplies; my men will distribute them. And I wish to be informed immediately about all the details of your current situation."

"Yes, sire. If you’ll follow me," Lorcan murmured. The stable master came to take the reigns of the stallion, and the general followed the captain into the little blockhouse.

"Can I offer you some hot wine, Sire?" Lorcan still didn't look his superior in the eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the general pull off his hood… and bolt the door shut.

"Sire?" Lorcan asked in confusion.

"Why won't you look at me now?" The voice was strangely soft. "The last time we met you never took your eyes off me."

Lorcan gulped and raised his gaze to meet the general's. There was something strangely searching in the gray eye, something… waiting.

"I… I don’t think I have the right, Sire," he finally murmured and turned away. "I apologize if it seems rude. Now if you’d like to take a look at the maps…"

A slender, strong hand grabbed his shoulder and turned him around. "So that night… it was enough for you?" the general asked sharply. "I want an honest answer, and then we'll never speak of that matter again."

Lorcan took a deep breath. "It will never be enough, Sire, not in a thousand years. If you wish me to resign…"

"How about you just shut up, Lorcan?" the general interrupted him, and the next moment Lorcan's whole world seemed to turn upside down as his beloved leaned forward and kissed him. It was a demanding, yet tender kiss, still not really expert, but very eager. It took him some moments to finally return it with all the pent-up passion of the last weeks.

When they finally pulled away from each other, Aileas' face was a little flushed, and he was smiling. Now he looked exactly as young as he was, and Lorcan's heart was nearly overflowing with love and joy.

"And now, Captain, I want to see those maps," Aileas said. "We still have a war to win."

Lorcan just nodded, still a bit dazed. He had no idea what all this meant or where this would lead, but he would stay by his general's side forever, protect him, serve him, and love him.

After all, there was nowhere better to be than right in the heart of the storm.

END