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STOLEN BY THE PAST Chapter One: Had'Rian settled back in his seat and let his eyes drop closed. He reached a hand out for Behan and in sleep Behan curled his palm over his lover's. The carriage stopped and Had'Rian blinked open his eyes. Looking outside, he realised that he had fallen asleep. Night had fallen and they had arrived in Elissarro. Outside, he could hear door's opening. Turning, he shook Behan gently awake. The poor man had been asleep all day. He was such a terrible traveller. The jostling cart made him feel unwell. Had'Rian caressed his warm cheeks now. "Are you still feeling ill, my love?" Blinking slowly, clearly still drowsy, Behan smacked his lips together and then yawned impressively. Had'Rian's hands slipped down into Behan's lap. "I think I am feeling a little better," Behan replied in a voice still thick with sleep. He looked around. "Have we arrived?" Had'Rian smiled. "We have." He turned away but Behan pulled him back. Moving in close, they smiled at one and other and then kissed softly. "I love you," Behan whispered. Had'Rian smiled again. Never did he tire of hearing those three words. It had taken Behan long enough to accept them, never mind speak them. "I love you, too," he replied, then pulled away. The carriage door was opened from outside and Had'Rian quickly stood up, not wanting Tajar's handsome footman to catch he and Behan together. He was already embarrassed enough that such a grand mode of transport had been arranged. It had been a gift from Tajar, though, and no person could refuse any extravagant gift Tajar gave. |
The footman was mortal, as most of Tajar's male friends were. Oh, he did like them pretty. Pretty, mortal boys who were so afraid of what they felt in their hearts. Yet Tajar always persuaded them back to his bed. Tajar had a gift - and he used it shamelessly. This particular friend of Tajar's stood at six feet in height and had a head of strawberry-blonde, wavy hair. His eyes were small but a dazzling shade of deep blue. A sprinkle of blonde hair tickled over his cheeks and chin. He held out a hand to Had'Rian and, begrudgingly, Had'Rian took it. At the foot of the steps, Had'Rian lifted his eyes to the servant, thanking him with a smile. The footman gave a flirty wink of his eye and Had'Rian, unused to such attention, became flustered. Saving him from embarrassment, Layana flung open the front door of the cottage and raced down the garden towards him. Behind, Had'Rian could hear Behan thanking the footman for his help and directing him to where their luggage had been stored. "Had'Rian!" Layana exclaimed from the pathway. "Behan!" The two men looked up in time to see her streaking down the garden towards them. As always, she looked wonderful. The summer sun had tanned her pale cheeks and the dark circles that usually slept beneath her eyes had vanished. On her body she wore a beautiful summer dress of yellow; her black hair was pulled back from her face in a thick plait and draped forward over her left shoulder. First, she hugged Behan. He was her younger brother - and only family. It was true that only marriage connected them together but it was enough for both parties. Had'Rian stepped back and let them greet one another in a way that seemed accustomed their race. Layana took Behan's face in her hands, looked him up and down and then kissed him all over. Behan laughed softly and then hugged her in return. Their meetings had not always been this friendly, though, Had'Rian remembered. When Layana had first fled Fehn she had not come back to visit in over eight months. Behan had been consumed with rage and her first visit had been wrought with arguments and tears.
They were as brother and sister again now, though.
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