Other Fan Fiction ❯ Beauty ❯ Beauty ( Chapter 1 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Obsidian Trilogy

Kellen/Cilarnen

Warnings- slash, small spoilers, major ooc-ness…..

Comments-It’s just our two favorite mages being boys

I apologize sincerely for the OOC-ness of Kellen and Cilarnen but hey, it happens.

Mwahaha! My second–posted–Obsidian Trilogy fic. I thought I'd lost everything from when my old computer kicked the bucket, but then I found this and several other projects I'd been working on before on a disk I was apparently, strangely enough, using as a bookmark several months ago. O.o Talk about bizarre, huh? Bizarre, but definitely good fortune. Oh, I was so upset when that metal reincarnation of Satan decided that it would be so funny to just stop working one day. I was so amused by it, I started screaming like a banshee and damning it for all I was worth. Needless to say, I was pissed. But, here it is now! (though I had to rewrite the end cuz apparently when I saved it to my disk I hadn't yet finished it. That's okay though, I'm just happy I've got the majority of it.)

PLEASE, PLEASE review.

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Kellen looked down on the face of the city boy that had so rudely thrust himself into his life. He didn't suppose that one could call him handsome, he was too skinny and...magey for that title. On the other end of the spectrum, beautiful, was stretching it too far. Girls were beautiful; Vestikia was beautiful, his sister, as much as he gagged at the thought, was beautiful. Cilarnen, skinny, magey and male, was not beautiful; not even when he wore that little blush that covered his nose and cheeks like he was now.

"Stop staring at me and answer the question!"

Cilarnen tried to glare acidly at the Wildmage before him, but found it especially hard to do when his entire face burned from said Wildmage's intense stare. He shifted his weight uncomfortably as he attempted to match the unblinking gaze and make the other turn his eyes. For seemingly many minutes he stayed like this; his blush growing even hotter by the second and his knees feeling like they would betray him at any moment and plunge him to the floor.

Finally at his wits end he shoved his hand out to push Kellen away from him. Before even his fingers could graze the material of the red tunic the other currently wore, his wrists were grabbed and held still. He gasped and tried to yank his hands back only to find that the other boy had no intention of letting him get away that easily. He continued to try to pull away for a moment before he saw the look of concentration on Kellen's face as he continued to stare, non-pulsed by Cilarnen's sudden attack and subsequent defeat.

A slow lazy grin made its way to Kellen's mouth and he broke their eye contact to look at the small, pale hands he held captive. The wrists he grasped were frail and Kellen doubted they could have stood much pressure before the fragile bones began to grind and crack. His fingers were so peachy white that Kellen would bet his entire set of armor that they had spent most of their eighteen years snug inside a pair of bejeweled gloves.

"Kellen...?"

More half-hearted struggling and the sound of his name being whispered in such a hesitant, worried way led his eyes up the cotton covered arm to a shoulder blade and up further to a delicate boned face looking at him bewilderedly. He smiled again and pulled the now non-resisting body with him into the tent further and sat him down on the pile of blankets in the middle of the room before letting go to turn around to make tea.

Cilarnen watched him, blinking his blue eyes over as if that would bring the situation more into focus. He then considered Kellen quietly before seeming to come to a conclusion about something.

"You haven’t even made any plans have you?" Cilarnen said with a haughty smirk as he regained his calm, “Typical, you never were one to actually think ahead.”

Kellen just cast his eyes over the older boy silently and smiled that mysterious smile that had Cilarnen’s confident smirk draining from his face until he was left with a scowl. He opened his mouth to say something, no doubt an insult, when Kellen finally spoke up, "And why would you want to know about something like that?"

Cilarnen was caught off guard by the question and struggled for an answer all the while blushing madly. "I… I don't know… I was just wondering..."

Kellen snickered quietly, though not quiet enough for Cilarnen not to hear him and send him a heated glare from across the tent. “It’s certainly a strange thing for you to be ‘just wondering’ about when we have so many things, much more important, to be worrying about.” Kellen retorted as he picked up the tea kettle and walked back to were Cilarnen and his cups were. He motioned for the High Mage to get the cups from the chest behind the blankets he was sitting on. Once the older boy had done so and set them on top of the trunk Kellen poured tea in each cup before setting the kettle down and lifting his own cup to his lips to taste the hot brew.

Noticing the other was now just sitting forlornly, staring into his cup pensively, Kellen sat with a sigh next to him and once again spoke, “I’m not sure what I’ll be doing once all this is over. I haven’t given it any real thought.” He leaned over so he could see past the curtain of Cilarnen’s hair to his face and was once again struck with the urge to sigh; the russet-haired boy obviously wasn’t altogether there.

To bring him out of his quiet mood Kellen set down the cup and threw his arm over the other boy’s shoulder, getting a startled, pained squeak and a hot slosh of tea on his leg for his effort. “And what about you? I suppose you’ve been thinking about it for quite a bit.”

Cilarnen glared at him briefly and flicked his tea covered finger in Kellen’s grinning face before letting out a sigh and leaning his head tiredly against the arm around his shoulders.

Kellen raised an eyebrow concerning Cilarnen’s strange reaction but let him lay his head there in hopes that the other would be more willing to talk if he allowed him a moment of comfort, though from what Kellen didn’t know. So he tightened his grasp more firmly and pulled the slender boy closer so his head was lying on his shoulder.

Cilarnen’s blue eyes opened to look up at his face but he didn’t move away, instead he simply sighed in contentment and snuggled his head into Kellen’s neck, breathing in the scent of the Wildmage. He smelled like sweat and iron and–Cilarnen wrinkled his nose a bit–apple blossoms? He took another breath of Kellen’s tanned skin and confirmed that yes, Kellen smelled of apple blossoms.

Letting out a giggle Cilarnen lifted up his head and looked Kellen in the eye.

“You smell like flowers.” he said with a smile lighting up his features.

Kellen looked taken-aback for a moment; his head craned backward and his eyes wide and owlish, and then he scowled at Cilarnen and pushed him off his shoulder.

“It’s the soap that the elves have me using.” He said gruffly, “I’m sure you smell just as fragrant.” To prove his point he grabbed Cilarnen and pulled him to him so he was pressed tight to his chest, and sniffed the older boy’s hair.

“Ah ha!” he yelled triumphantly, “Peaches!”

“It’s not as bad as flowers though!” Cilarnen said laughing out loud, and reached up to try to bat Kellen away only to find him self suddenly lifted off his seat and dropped to the ground. In retaliation he leaped up and grabbed a fistful of Kellen’s long hair in one hand and the red shirt in the other to tug him back to the ground with him.

Kellen let out a yelp at the sharp yank on his hair and tumble down on top of Cilarnen and lay stunned for a moment until he realized that Cilarnen was still pulling on his hair and the brunette didn’t seem to be about to stop. The Wildmage reached down to the belly exposed by the rough play and began mercilessly tickling until the pressure on his scalp was gone and the mage-boy was tossing back and forth laughing hysterically, trying to dislodge Kellen so he could escape.

“Noo–ACK! Kellen! Hahaha! Stop! NOOO! Ahahaaaaahhhhhh!” Cilarnen screamed between laughter attacks and choking breaths.

He was finally able to land a knee in Kellen’s stomach and he took advantage of the moment that the blond pulled away his hands to grasp his abused stomach, to roll out from under him and jump away–only to have Kellen snag his ankle and pull him back to the ground on his face.

Rolling over and reaching towards the root of his current problem, Cilarnen was ready to make an attack for Kellen’s underarms when Kellen surged forward to completely cover Cilarnen with his body and smirk down in his face. He was about to go back to tickling the older boy for kneeing him in the stomach when he felt Cilarnen go rigid. Kellen threw a cursory glance around the tent to see what had freaked the High Mage out but finding nothing he looked back into the other’s face to see him staring straight at him. Kellen felt suddenly captured. Cilarnen's wide, frightened eyes looked into his own, and his breath hitched when he felt something hard and warm pressed against his hip when it had slipped between Cilarnen's legs. Then he realized that the sensation must have been mirrored when his own groin touched Cilarnen's thigh.

Eye now as wide as the terrified Cilarnen's, Kellen could feel the uneven breath against his face from Cilarnen hyperventilating. The sudden realization of just how scared the mage was, shocked Kellen out of his staring and he surged away from him. He rolled to his feet immediately and began sputtering out horrified apologies.

“Cilarnen, I–I'm so sorry. I–” His voice failed him there and he could force no sound past a desperate gasp to escape his throat.

Similarly, Cilarnen had jumped to his feet and was resolutely staring red-faced at the floor while trying to say his own jumbled apologies.

“Cilarnen,” Kellen finally said, steadily now, and took a step towards him. But before he could get any closer, Cilarnen looked up at him in utter terror and turned to run out the door-flap. By the time Kellen had reached out a hand to try to grab him, Cilarnen was gone, and the flap was swaying enough that Kellen could see a few surprised faces aimed his way through it.

Kellen stood there for a few seconds like that; his hand outstretched and mouth open with the beginning of a sound dying in it, before he let out a broken groan and felt his legs buckle under him.

“Stupid!” he hissed at himself, “So damned stupid.”

He snarled the last word as he punched hard at the dirt floor of his tent. His knuckles throbbed at the impact and his fingernails cut into his palms but he grimaced those pains away–they were nothing to the absolute terror in Cilarnen's eyes as he'd looked at him.

He dropped his head into his hands and stayed that way until the gentle jingling at his door-flap that he hadn't registered during his previous anger finally caught his attention. He composed himself slightly and stood shakily on his legs. Taking another deep breath, he walked towards the flap and pulled it open.

It was Isenwen. Pointedly not meeting his eyes, the elf held out a rolled bit of parchment with a piece of red ribbon tied securely around it.

A summons from Redhelwar.

He unfurled it and scanned its contents quickly and held back a sigh.

An immediate summons from Redhelwar.

Sometimes he wished that the elves would make up their minds one way or another. Either they were patient or they were impatient. He just wanted to know what to expect from them sometimes without having to pick through every word they said for some sort of hint.

Isenwen stood quietly in the doorway, indicating that Kellen was supposed to give a reply. He nodded absentmindedly at the elf and Isenwen was gone before he'd even completed the gesture, with not even a hint of his copper-gold color in sight. Letting out his repressed sigh, Kellen turned back to the center of his tent where Light at the Heart of the Mountain rested in its scabbard beside his armor. He played with the thought of fastening on his armor before going to the meeting but then dismissed it. Redhelwar had asked for his presence in his tent immediately and he'd already wasted enough time dallying here.

Running a hand through his hair to put it into some semblance of dignified order, he pushed through the tent's flap and into the cold morning air with one last thought before his thoughts of responsibilities took him away from the matter of Cilarnen and their... strange encounter:

'I just hope no one expects any real intelligence from me today. I seem to be short on it.'

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You're breaking my spirit bit by bit every week that goes by and I don't have a single review. Have pity on me and drop me a one-liner review or something please.

If you notice that something doesn't make sense because of the way I wrote it, please tell me. It's probably something that, in my haste to post, post, post, I didn't look over. Thanks.

Well, I'm glad that's done. I've been wanting to get this posted for so long–I actually wrote this before 'After the War'–but, alas, it was lost to me for several months. I'll be starting on 'Awakening' next, (joy of joys that will be. --) and after that, I've got the third part of this little “series”, 'Welcome to Beautiful Bliss'. Don't put too much stock in it being posted any time soon though. School's being a bitch and I've been assigned to “showing the ropes” to some of our new people.

I know you're probably wondering “why the hell should we care you moron?” right about now, but please just hang in there with me or skip my little post-writing gripes entirely. They're more for me than you guys anyway.

One little thing though. Yes, I do know that guys don't necessarily get hard-ons because they're sexually aroused or attracted by someone. But, after reading the books several times and paying particular attention to the interactions of Kellen and Cilarnen, I'm convinced that them being a little, shall we say, “interested” in one another isn't all that far-fetched and so my reason for their–ahem!–friskiness is that they're attracted to each other. Don't jump down my throat about this please.