Pentimento: Poppy

I have a new release today, my second story with Torquere Press (or third, depending on how you count them - my first two were published together as A Hope in Hell).

Today's release is called Pentimento: Poppy. It's 10.7K long.

Corvo and Ardán have traveled from their home on the planet Biryan to Corvo's homeworld, Tiberia, to take part in Corvo's sister's wedding. The happy occasion is complicated, however, by the fact that Ardán is essentially a prisoner of war, a war that, though over, he is still affected by. Corvo, likewise, is a hostage to the political situation that made Ardán a slave. Though they have overcome many of the problems that faced them initially, and are happy together, neither of them is happy with the legal realities that they are powerless to change. The trip to Tiberia, intended by Corvo to be a happy one, instead becomes laden with meaning that he had not expected.

It was unexpectedly hard to fall asleep, despite how tired he was. But three years -- or two years, depending on which calendar one went by -- away from home had meant that Corvo had forgotten how to fall asleep when it was still bright out. It was harder still for Ardán, who had spent his entire life hitherto in the now-Tiberian Province of Balcon, an equatorial country on his homeworld, Biryan, to adjust to the idea of a night that was, at high summer, a scant four hours long.

Corvo had almost drifted off to sleep, sunlight still seeping through the window, when a shriek, sudden and female -- Evora -- startled him awake. It was followed almost instantly by a man's laugh -- long and full -- Savo, and Corvo rolled over, ready to resume his efforts at trying to sleep with sunlight still falling on his face.

But rolling over, which brought him closer to his lover, did not result in a warm mutual burrowing deeper into bed, and sleep, but rather the realization that Ardán was sitting bolt upright in the bed, breathing soft and swallow, listening.

Corvo raised up on an elbow. "It's all right, Ara," he said quietly. "It was just Evora. And she's fine." Savo, his beloved sister's buoyant fiancé, would hardly have laughed otherwise. Sitting up, though, he could see Ardán's hands caught in the sheet, curled tightly. He'd been overtired and tense all day. Evora's scream had been too much, one thing too many.

Life in the Governor's Residence had been good to Ardán; it was generally quiet, held all the books he could want, and made few demands on his time. Still, occasionally, such things had happened, Ardán going terrifyingly still and elsewhere, though they had mostly been in the early days of the Tiberian governance of Balcon, when sporadic violence had still been common.

"We are perfectly safe," Corvo said quietly, not entirely sure that Ardán ever really listened, "all of us, perfectly safe, in my sister's house." With one of Tiberia's most celebrated generals, and all the attendant ability to call down wrath worlds would quail at, mere meters away in her own bed. They could hardly be safer anywhere, but it was not facts that troubled Ardán, it was feelings. "Do you want me to go down and check?" he tried. "We could go down together."

Corvo heard the great general opening her door, and padding on bare feet she passed their bedroom toward the stairs to check on her daughter and soon-to-be son-in-law, and possibly, Corvo reflected, scold them if the situation required it.

Ardán shook his head, finally.

On one hand, Corvo was glad of the short bright nights that he had been bemoaning only moments earlier. Ardán could easily see their room, see him, see that they were safe. Sadly, it also made it less likely that Ardán would tell him what it was that had frightened him, though Corvo supposed that that was obvious.

Ardán lay back on the bed, then, though he turned his face, eyes still a little too wide, pupils still a little too dilated, toward Corvo. Corvo smiled reassuringly, and was surprised when Ardán kissed him; it was not a particularly tender kiss, too eager, too needy to be gentle, and Ardán did not close his eyes. But Corvo closed his, opened his mouth, and let his lover lead.

Ardán could be like this, sometimes -- sexual when it seemed least likely, and least appropriate. Corvo remembered once more their first pairing, an abrupt act of affirmation -- of life, of love -- after a brutal day of public courage and private tears.

Breaking their kiss with a sigh, Ardán stretched out his full length, and pressed closer to Corvo, who reciprocated, unsurprised to find his lover already growing hard against his thigh. Corvo opened his eyes a sliver, and smiled, shifting so that their cocks, still bound by silk, could touch. Ardán shivered gratifyingly, and recaptured his lips. Corvo's erection grew steadily harder as his lover's tongue explored his mouth, slowly this time, and his eyes fluttered fully closed again.