[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...
It did not occur to Alva that he had lost his mind. No, he knew his eyes were not playing tricks on him. The elf was real, he was seeing him as clearly as the summer evening outside or the bookshelves behind his back. The elf was as real as the desk laden with scrolls and opened books. Ithildin was here, in his study. His clothes were covered with road dust, his hair was braided for travel. He was right here, and Alva could not comprehend it. He stood, drinking in the scene, and could not get enough.
The elf's face was impassive, as usual. He seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then went to Alva and bent a knee before him, head lowered.
"Noble Chevalier Ahayrre, I had come to serve you for as long as you wish and however you wish," he said in the Common tongue. His speech was lightly, almost imperceptibly, accented.
"God Almighty," managed Alva, his mouth gone completely dry, "Are you insane? ... What are you talking about?"
Alva staggered and had to go down on the floor next to the elf. He yearned to touch him, but was afraid.
"I want to be your lover, if your customs permit it. If not, I would be your servant or your slave. My life is yours."
"I do not want your gratitude. You have already repaid me, remember? We are quits."
The elf faced Alva and said simply, "I love you. I want to be with you."
Madness, sheer madness. Alva could not believe his ears.
"You are insane," he repeated helplessly. How could the elf say these things, with this impassive face and dead-serious eyes? "You can't love me, that's impossible."
"My people do not lie. I can say it in my own tongue."
And the Ancient repeated exactly what he had said to Alva in the forest. Evidently, Alva was wrong to mistrust his hearing; he had remembered correctly.
"Please stop tormenting me," begged Alva, taking the elf's hand. "If you chose to serve me out of gratitude, if you are not certain about your feelings, it will kill me!"
Ithildin put his hand to Alva's cheek and gazed at Alva so tenderly, Alva's heart leapt. "There is no mistaking love. We always know when it comes. I have to be yours, or I will never rest."
Alva was close to tears. Never, in his life, had he felt anything as poignant. He lacked the words to describe it, for all his poetry and education. He only knew that he would have gladly paid for this moment with his life. He threw his arms around the elf, and gasped into his ear, "I love you. If you stay with me, I ... I will be the happiest of mortals and immortals."
"I thought I would die away from you," whispered Ithildin back. He put his hands on Alva's shoulders and pressed him closer.
Alva's words fell like raindrops, "And I thought I was dead already."
Alva Ahayrre, fanart by Neit
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