[FINISHED]One of the best known original m/m romances in Russia, loved by many. It won the Russian Wattys 2015 Award, now it's available in English too.
Alva Ahayrre is a Creedan nobleman and a courtier, a beautiful and frivolous redhead...
They left Fanneshtou in the early morning. They made good progress in a day and constantly hurried their horses. The elf's impatience was apparent, but Alva also wanted to leave Ithildin quickly and then try to forget him entirely.
At night, Alva deliberately set himself up away from the fire, but only a short time later Ithildin, stark naked, slipped beneath Alva's blanket. Alva tried to push him away – in vain. At the elf's touch, Alva's body was on fire, and passion clouded his mind. Every night, he fell asleep holding Ithildin in his arms, after sating himself. Ithildin was so obedient, pliable, submitting to Alva's every desire...
Alva felt guilt and remorse when he thought he was acting like a savage, but dark madness descended over him every time he possessed the elf, knowing that every second was bringing their parting closer. He hated himself for this weakness, but did not – could not – resist it. Sometimes, he hated the elf, because the elf made him run amok with lust and lose all self-control. This had never happened to him before, except, maybe, when he was fourteen, in love for the first time and losing his virginity, but he had not been as passionate even back then.
On the sixth day of the journey, they saw from a distance the rising solid wall of the GreatForest, and they reached it on the eighth day. Alva Ahayrre, the brilliant courtier, a famed poet, a revered beauty and the court's favourite, whose love had never gone unanswered, felt his heart break. He kissed the elf longingly and passionately for the last time, praying that the kiss would last forever. But he had to let go of the sweet lips to take a breath.
The elf lifted his astonishing eyes at Alva, and his face became unreadable again. Then he urged his horse forward. Once a short distance away, he turned, rose in the saddle and called out a brief phrase in his own tongue. Then he drove his horse on, and entered the forest.
Alva stared after him, until the elf disappeared behind the trees. He understood, with merciless clarity, that he would never forget their meeting. He was doomed to this lacerating memory until the end of his days.
His life was eclipsed. And the eclipse bore the name of Ithildin.
Alva and Ithildin, fanart by Loki
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