"Sweetheart, you'll kill yourself."
Leitis Lysander sat on the floor by his bed, chin on top of her hands that were folded over the blanket. This way, their eyes were level, and she was looking straight at Alva, sadly and earnestly. She was not disapproving – Alva loved that about Leitis: she never tried to change him or interfere with his life, but she turned up and offered her strong shoulder whenever he needed her most.
What made her leave the Southern border, where her regiment was stationed, and rush to Trianess? It was as if she had sensed her darling Alva was in trouble. Sometimes he believed there was a mystical bond between them – perhaps, before they were born, they had been a brother and sister in another life. Or, perhaps, providence had appointed her Alva's guardian angel.
Leitis had come in the nick of time again: she went all over the Low-town and extracted Chevalier Ahayrre from a vilest dive, where – for the last two days – he explored the verge of insanity. When she burst into the room, two swords at the ready, Alva was already staked on the next round of craps. The winner would take him first. Alva was dead drunk and stoned to boot, and could not have put up much of a fight, even if he had realized what was happening. Leitis nearly burst into tears at the sight of his pale drawn face with a pinched nose and dark circles under glassy eyes. Cutting through the lecherous crowd, she carried out a barely conscious Alva in her arms, took him home, stuck him under a cold shower and shoved him into bed.
In the morning, when Alva seemed more like his usual self, Leitis forced him to drink a revolting brew (made to an old family recipe) that sobered him, instantly and irrevocably. The new-found sobriety brought memories of a nearly week-long drunken binge that could have ended for him very badly. He shuddered when he understood what Leitis had saved him from. The patrons of that hell-hole would not have stopped at rape. More likely, they would have robbed him, killed him, and tossed his body into a ditch. He would have gotten eternal rest instead of the temporary relief offered by drugs and wine. Alva's grief was not great enough to make him court death. It just would not let him live.
"Before you drive yourself into the grave, tell me why you are doing it. What ails you, my sweet Allie? It hurts me to see you that way. I know you would have asked for my help if you thought I could help you. But tell me what's wrong at least, speak your mind!"
"Love you, Lei," croaked Alva and moved closer, putting his head on her shoulder.
Her very presence filled him with serenity and dulled his pain. She smoothed his hair gently, and kissed the top of his tousled head.
"I love you too, carrot-top. Your knack for getting into trouble compares only to your beauty. So tell me why my best friend has been pickling himself for two months."
Leitis was the only one he could trust with his secret. But the source of his grief was too painful to discuss, remember or think about ...
"Lei, my life is not worth living. I don't even know how to tell you."
"You've fallen in love, Allie," this came as a statement, not a question.
He nodded silently. She had always been perceptive, and now, after years of friendship, knew him nearly as well as she knew herself. Besides, it would not have been difficult to guess, as he had all the symptoms. What would she say once she learned who he fell for?
"Dear God, resisting you would seem inhuman," Lei's eyes, the color of summer sky, were filled with sympathy. "It can't be a courtier or anyone from the capital; who in Trianess would reject Alva Ahayrre?"
Chevalier Ahayrre sighed. "It's not, exactly, a human," he said, simply.
Now Leitis, that gallant hero, looked scared. "Do not tell me that it was one of the Ancient Race!"
"That's exactly what happened, Lei, and all I can do now is go and drown myself, because there is no hope, and it's been two months that I can't forget him. And will never forget him, as long as I live."
Relieved, Alva spilled everything: his mission to the Essanti, meeting Ithildin, their parting. Leitis could listen like nobody else, she could understand, sympathize, even advise ... though what kind of advice could she give in his predicament!
"He has probably forgotten all about me already; I am nobody to him, a filthy mortal, one of those who tortured and killed his kin ... And I, I remember his every glance, every gesture, every movement, still hear his voice ... If you'd see him Lei – that our Maker could mould such beauty! If I were the heavenly orb, I'd stop my course just to gaze at him; if I were a hurricane, I would be stilled at his feet; if I were an ocean I'd part before him, and he would go through me as on dry ground."
"My poor Allie..." Lei's voice caught.
She was teary. Though ordinarily it would have been hard to make the tough cavalry commander shed a tear. She hugged him, burying her face in Alva's red hair, and the two were silent for a long time. Snug against her chest, Alva listened to the beating of her heart and, for the first time in days felt ... not happy, of course, but content and at peace. Leitis spoke first.
"I know how hard it is to have your feelings go unreturned," she said. "But there is always hope! Maybe fate will bring the two of you together after all."
Alva only sighed. It was ironic that he had been the object of the only unrequited love in Lei's life. Their story did have a happy ending and he knew what she was thinking: that fate had brought him and Leitis together just when she became convinced it never would.
"Lei, he is an Ancient. If we ever meet again – which I doubt – there will be either a battlefield between us, or else prison bars. We would face each other as enemies. He might not want to kill me, but I would love to die by his hand; he would never think me even a friend."
"What are you talking about, Allie? You are the hottest noble in Trianess; one smile of yours would kindle love in the hearts of men or women!"
"The Ancient Race thinks homosexuality a sin. If he knew what I felt, he'd loathe me. If I were the loveliest of mortal women, he'd never even look my way. The Elven hearts are cold like the glaciers of Haelghira, they say. Their love is an intellectual kinship of spirit, and they never use this word for our vile flesh. For them, we are the lower race, not much better than animals," said Alva bitterly.
He found a perverse pleasure in deliberately picking at his wounds.
Leitis pulled away and tenderly took his face in her hands. He was always surprised at the gentleness of her hands that could so easily kill and maim.
"Two years ago, when I happened to be passing through Fanneshtou, I had ordered your horoscope. I never gave it to you, seeing how skeptical you were about fortune-telling. But I do believe it; you know all the predictions have always come true for me. I was told that you would be always lucky in matters of the heart, and that you would be very happy in love, after many trials. That you would find what you had been looking for your entire life, and that fate would give you more than you had ever asked for. Life is not over yet, sweetheart ... You don't know what the next day or month would bring."
"When I think about the future, I feel nothing but despair. Lei, darling, I can't even imagine being happy with someone else! I could spend my life in disgrace and misery, but only if he were by my side! I think I am mad, but I do not want my madness cured."
"It's not your love that's madness, but what you are doing to yourself. Allie, I cannot believe that you'd give up on life, this most amazing gift God gives us."
Leitis touched his cheek; her eyes were serious, when she searched Alva's face for confirmation of her faith. "I never thought you a coward. Find the courage to live on – and to live honourably! Your grief is boundless, but it will only be healed by time, not debauchery. Death in a Low-town gutter is hardly for you."
"Don't care," muttered Alva stubbornly.
He was lying. In fact, her words had shamed him. Anybody else would have sounded pompous and silly, but Leitis never uttered anything she did not fully believe in. He respected her for it, was awed by her. The Commander of the White Fortress, Lady-colonel Lysander rarely used the words "honour," "valour," and "chivalry," but she lived them. When Alva was only starting out on his courtly life filled with refined pleasures, she led her troops into battle, and had often looked death in the face. Alva could not argue with a woman who had inflamed the soldiers' hearts with courage and inspired them in the fields of war.
"Even if your heart is not free, you can enjoy life. Let your love give you wings, not chain you to the ground. Tomorrow you will resume your court duties and get back to writing; I miss your poetry, Allie."
Lei's tone – pleasant, but steely – did not invite an argument.
"And these trips to Low-town will stop. You will start taking part in the feasts, and will cease looking sourly at the cream of the Trianess court, just because they are not your beloved. Go get dressed now, we are going riding."
"God Almighty, now?!" moaned Alva.
"Is that how you address a higher-ranking Officer?" Leitis made a stern face.
It was so funny, Alva could not help smiling and gave her a mock salute, "Yes, ma'am, Lady-colonel Lysander!"
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This phrase - If Iwere the heavenly orb, I'd stop my course just to gaze at him; if I were ahurricane, I would be stilled at his feet; if I were an ocean I'd part beforehim, and he would go through me as on dry ground - was used by me in the novel Gates to Glory, chapter 2.23 Faelivrin of Lindalae: https://www.wattpad.com/145842739
Leitis Lysander, fanart by Talleran