Ekleipsis (Fantasy Romance - LGBT, manXman)

Chapter 3

Selkhir. A buzzing market-town on the edge of the Wild Steppe. Shops bursting with wares; never enough inns to house all the merchants and travelers; many-tongued babble of motley crowds in the streets. The smell, heady and cloying, sweet and irritating, permeates everything: spice from the South, exotic fruits, fine silks, horse sweat, linens, tar from the desert ships, and a thousand other things. Nothing has changed since Alva had come here for the first time, ten years ago.

The White Fortress on top of the hill looks like a toy castle from a distance, but, as you get closer, its white walls with black arrow slits loom so large, they dwarf you. It is the greatest stronghold of the North, built three thousand years ago, when the wars raging over the fertile lands of future Creede made them run with blood. It guards the roads in all directions: to the FalkhidSea, to the forbidding mountain chains of Haelghirra, to the Teraisa plain and the Wild Steppe. At present, the Fortress housed the Selkhir garrison – the cavalry regiment under Leitis Lysander's command.

Nothing has changed in the fortress either. Every inch of the white stone was familiar and held a promise of a homecoming. Here was the small house Lei still lived in, even after she was promoted to Colonel; the sitting room windows overlooked the training grounds, and the bedroom opened into the garden of orange and pomegranate trees. He had often lolled there in bed until noon, when Lei would burst in after training, joyful and sweaty, bearing a rose or a bunch of grapes.

He had spent six happy months here, and the memory was still vivid. Since then, he had been to Selkhir only three times; he was too caught up in his pursuits, his travels, his duties. Besides, Lei came to Trianess often enough. He could not wait to see her again; here, in Selkhir, where every tree, every stone remembered them young and besotted, she grew even dearer to him. His darling Lei, tender and brazen.

The military brashness of the in-your-face Lady-colonel could fluster a barbarian, never mind a bashful elf. Ithildin flushed crimson, when she pulled him to the window, shouted, "My, he is hot, Allie! What a sweet blondie! Eyes like stars, a real elf, what! Welcome to Selkhir, sunshine!" and kissed him smack on the lips. That was Lei all right – noisy, boisterous, loud and imposing, who loved to strut, shock and provoke. Very few have seen how gentle and romantic she could be.

Alva giggled at Ithildin.

"I have warned you. Here, at the border, they have no truck with court ceremony. Meet my old friend Leitis, the Lady-Colonel, aka Hazarath, the scourge of Enqins and the Commander-in-Chief of the Garrison of Selkhir."

"I got your letter two weeks ago. Hell's fire, you can't imagine how happy I was for you. For the two of you. Essanti will take two more days to reach Selkhir, so for now you will be my guests. Don't even bother to object."

"Did I ever?" Alva kissed her. "Just don't plan on getting into bed with us. We are doing fine on our own."

Ithildin flushed again, but Lei only laughed and tousled Alva's red curls.

"If I did not know your parents, I'd say you were raised in a brothel, baby brother."

"You don't mean the one you command, Lady-colonel? I remember spending half a year here, and still can't get over it."

Laughter made Leitis bend double. "Touché!"

"And what does Hazarath mean?" asked Ithildin shyly, evidently trying to get them to off the subject of promiscuity.

Alva and Leitis looked at one another and positively howled.

"She is a goddess of death in one of the Wild Steppe tribes, the Eutangha," explained the Lady-colonel once she got over the fit.

"Yes, and when she comes for the warrior, she ... she ... oh, hell, she just f_cks him to death," burbled Chevalier Ahayrre, wiping away tears.

Ithildin could not help picturing the sight and laughing.

'Summertime' - young Leitis and Alva, fanart by Fururin (http://fururin.deviantart.com)