Night Falls Ch. 05

Night Falls – Part 5

The servants had gone, the child taken carefully from her father’s arms and a still had gone over the household as the excitement of the day settled into the routine sleep of such a late hour. The cracking of the fire in the hearth was the only thing that broke the quiet so deafening after the earlier dramatics.

The young Lord was slumped in the seat, his daughter having been removed without waking him. From across the room, a well familiar figure watched, brilliant blue eyes running over the sleeping man with an unseen affection.

Gently, he rose from the couch, moving across the room with strong forceful movements, as if his body could split the seam of reality itself with his power. Reaching the man’s side, he ran his fingertips lightly over the young Lord’s hair, down to the strong line of his cheekbone. A slight shake took to those well-sinewed fingers, warmth rising to the cool blue eyes as he engulfed the sight of the man before him.

This was the only warmth he had felt for millennium, tightening his limbs to restraint as he kept his touch light and his presence from waking his adopted brother. The servants would whisper in the hallways and the words would soon stretch out into the streets. His brother’s business thrived on his reputation and the hint of scandal, this immoral scandal, would harm his livelihood and ruin his life.

But here, where no eyes could see, here he could be weak. He could bend to the temptation that brought him to his knees, and touch this sweet pure hearted man that had been a part of his life for the last few years. A sigh passed his lips, the cool touch of immortality seeping through him again as the reality of his unbeating heart and the small shallow minds of the age started to take hold.

His fingers dropped from the warm skin of the young Lord’s cheek, landing on his shoulder. He tapped it gently, pushing against his shoulder enough to rouse him from his slumber. “Come, Brother.”

His voice was soft and husky in a way that penetrated Esiah’s subconscious and brought his eyes open, looking up at him with sleepy confusion. “Gareth?” The fogged question, in a sleep slurred voice that caused the man before him to jerk a bit straighter, his body stiffening to keep his control about him.

“You fell to your sleep, and the evening passed here will be uncomfortable come morning.” Extending a hand to the young Lord, he waited to help him to his feet. But Esiah was too exhausted, the emotional hurricane having taken most of his energy. He had swayed on his feet, near to falling to the floor but for the support of his brother’s arm around his waist.

A worry touched the larger man’s brow, seeing this man he so cared for affected this way. Esiah found consciousness enough to look up at him, confusion shading his warm brown eyes. “I felt a brush against my face. Was I dreaming?”

The look almost pleaded, for what Gareth couldn’t tell, but this was not something he was ready to indulge at this time. Not when the young man beside him was already so wane on the evening’s emotions and was so vulnerable because of it. He so begged for someone to take some care of him, affection being the farthest thing from truth in his marriage, and Gareth yearned to comply.

With a sigh he all but carried the man, careful to let him walk enough that the servants would not talk overmuch, to his quarters near the children’s rooms, laying him down on the bed. A faint smile touched Esiah’s lips, half asleep as Gareth loosened the restrictive lounging clothes required by this period and country, something he cursed under his breathe in an ancient language.

Shaking him, Gareth spoke to him quietly, telling him to move up the bed to be a bit more comfortable. It was then when his long dead heart threatened to leap from his chest. “Stay here tonight, Gareth. Lay with me.” Was the sleeping request, made without thought, just the mortal man’s desires put to words? Gareth looked to the door, torn between his desire to do so, the awkwardness of the next evening and the impression it would make on the servants should they see it.

With a sigh, he patted the younger man on the shoulder. “I cannot, Esiah. People would talk, and you would not like the retribution to be paid.” Esiah frowned in his sleep, a soft whimper only a moment long before he fell silent and the conversation ended with his sleep. But Gareth was affected by that sound, that hungry needful shard that imbedded itself into his being and he could not have left the room even if it meant his death to stay.

Reaching out, he brushed a stray lock of hair from the man’s forehead, to which Esiah turned a bit with the need of such a touch, and sighed heavily. Compromise was made within himself, his large feral male mortal form shifting to a smaller sleek feline form. This was a more comfortable existence for him, more natural to him as well, as one born in a temple of cat goddesses in a country that would have worshipped him.

In this form he was a bit smaller than a black panther, with the lithe form and light construction of a well bred cat, and wasn’t so out of place laying at the Lord’s side as he slept. Stretching out beside the warm sleeping form, the large blue cat’s eyes watched the youth’s face with an affectionate dedication until the daylight started to the nearby hills and his consciousness was robbed from him for another day.