Magic's Pawn

trainee; the ability to See (or otherwise Sense) and manipulate energy fields, both natural and supernatural. His Gifts had come on him early and a long time before he was Chosen; they'd given him trouble for nearly half of his short life, and only his twin's support had kept him sane in the interval between their onset and when his Companion Gala finally appeared -

:Are you tucked safe away, dearling?: he Mindspoke to her. :When this blow comes, it's going to be a good one.:

The drowsy affirmative he got told him that she was half-asleep; heat did that to her.

Heat mostly made him irritable. He had propped every window and door wide open (and to hell with bugs), but there wasn't even a whisper of breeze to move the air around. The candle flames didn't even waver, and the honey-beeswax smell of the candles placed all around the common room was almost choking him with its sweetness.

 He shook back his damp hair, rubbed his eyes, and tried to concentrate on his book, but part of him kept hoping for a flash of lightning in the dark beyond the windows, or the first hint of cooling rain. And part of him kept insisting that all he had to do was nudge it a little. He told that part of himself to take a long walk, and waited impatiently for the rain to come of itself.

Nothing happened. Just an itchy sort of tension building.

He gave up trying to concentrate, got up and went to the sideboard for a glass of wine; he needed to get centered and calmed, and a little less sensitive, and he wasn't going to be able to do it on his own. The only wine left was a white, and it was a bit dry for his taste, but it did accomplish what he wanted it to. With just that hint of alcohol inside him, he finally managed to relax and get into the blasted book.

He got so far into it, in fact, that when the first simultaneous blast of wind and thunder came, he nearly jumped off of the couch.

Half the candles - the ones not sheltered in glass chimney-lamps - blew out. Wind whipped through the suite, sending curtains flying and carrying with it a welcome chill and the scent of rain. The shutters in Mardic's and Donni's room banged monotonously against the walls; not hard enough to shatter the glass yet, but it was only a matter of time. He dropped the book and got up to head for their door just as Vanyel stumbled in through the corridor door and into the brightness of the common room.

The boy stood as frozen as a statue, blinking owlishly at the light. Tylendel's stomach gave a little lurch; Vanyel looked like death.

It was bad enough that the boy was light-complected; bad enough that he was wearing stark black tonight, which only accentuated his fair skin. But his face had no color at the moment; it was so white it was almost transparent. His eyes looked sunken, and his expression was of someone who has seen, but been denied, the Havens.

'Vanyel - ' Tylendel said - whispered, really - his voice barely audible above the banging shutter and the sound of the storm. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'Vanyel, I didn't expect you back so - uh - soon. Is something wrong?'

For one moment - for one precious moment - Tylendel thought he had him; he was sure that the boy was going to open up to him. His eyes begged for pity; his expression, so hungry and haunted, nearly cracked Tylendel's own calm. The trainee made a tentative step toward him -

It was the wrong move; he knew that immediately. Vanyel's face shuttered and assumed his habitual expression of flippant arrogance. 'Wrong?' he said, with false gaiety. 'Bright Lady, no, of course there's nothing wrong! Some of the Bards just came over from their Collegium and started an impromptu contest; it got so damned hot in the Great Hall with all those people crowded in that I gave up - '

Just then the shutters in both the lifebonded's room and Savil's crashed against the walls with such force that it was a wonder that the windows didn’t shatter.

'Havens!' Vanyel yelped, 'She'll kill us!' and dove for Savil's room. Tylendel dashed into the other, mentally cursing his own clumsiness, and cursing himself for letting his reaction to the boy cloud his reading of him.

By the time he got everything secured and returned to the common room, Vanyel had retreated into his own room and the door was firmly and irrevocably shut.

'Vanyel,' the trainee said, softly, his eyes dark with compassion and understanding, 'Is something wrong?'

'I - ' Vanyel began, then closed his eyes as a jit of trembling hit him. ' 'I - the music - I - ''

Suddenly Tylendel was beside him, holding him, quieting his shivering. ' 'It's all right,'' he murmured into Vanyel's ear, his breath warm and like a caress in his hair. ' 'It's all right, I understand. ''

Vanyel stood as unmoving as a dead stick, hardly daring to breathe, afraid to open his eyes. Tylendel stroked his hair, the back of his neck, his hands warm and light - and Vanyel thought his heart was going to pound itself to pieces. ' I understand,'' he repeated. ' 'I know what it's like to want something, and know you 'II never have it. '

' 'You - do ?'' Vanyel faltered.

Tylendel chuckled. It was a warm, rich sound.

And his fingers traced the line of Vanyel's spine, slowly, sensuously. Vanyel started to relax in Tylendel's arms - and his eyes popped open in startlement when his own hands at Tylendel's chest encountered, not cloth, but skin.

The trainee was starkly, gloriously nude.

'Then again, ' Tylendel whispered, looking deeply into Vanyel's eyes. ' 'Maybe I will get it. ''

Vanyel made a strangling noise, wrenched himself away, and fled into darkness, into cold -