Evie Kiels

Another ficlet from the world of Avery. This particular fictlet is short. For more background and context, read: Daggers from Sk’ler, Three of Swords, and Watch the Tunnels.

Birds. The birdsong had pulled Alex out of his morning dreams so inconsequential that their meaning and mood was gone before an instant. A breeze that carried the birdsong in tickled his arms and face and ruffled his hair. He stretched his limbs under the thin silk sheet. The air was warm and comfortable, he didn’t need the sheet, but it felt lovely against his skin.

A soft huff, and Alex realized he wasn’t alone, as he so often was when he woke. Avery. The lightness of his mood left and his heart was full and heavy. Again.

“I know you’re awake.” Avery’s hand ghosted over Alex’s arm. “How about you say good morning properly instead of pretending to be asleep?”

Alex opened his eyes. Avery’s wheat colored hair pointed in all directions. A soft smile turned up his lips and eyes, and he looked like the Avery that Alex always wanted to Avery to be—content, carefree, innocent. Alex had to close his eyes again.

At that, Avery gave Alex’s arm a shove.  “Dillon said good morning in a highly proper and enthusiastic manner. I can be content with his most enjoyable and effective method of greeting, but I would like to have yours as well.”

“Oh, fine,” Alex groused. He couldn’t hide the smile that crept out despite the heaviness in his heart. Alex propped himself up on his elbows, leaned over, and kissed Avery’s arm. It was all he could reach.

“You’re one lazy prince this morning, aren’t you?”

Alex shrugged and let his head fall into Avery’s bare thigh. Avery’s fingers combed through his hair. They breathed together in the calm morning air. Alex ran his fingers in circles around Avery’s knees. He had only been back a week.

After a two years of investing his heart entirely into his two most skilled “assistants” and closest friends, Alex was convinced he was a dolt. He should retire them. At least Avery had persuaded Dillon to become Alex’s personal body guard, so Alex no longer had to say goodbye to both Avery and Dillon. But Alex wasn’t complete without Avery. And Avery… Avery didn’t seem to desire retirement.

“Watersmeet is miserable this time of year,” Avery said, in that distracted way of his the meant his thoughts were far away.

“All the reason for you to tell your boss to go to hell and quit.”

“He might hang me for treason.”

“I assure you, he would not.”

Avery leaned down and kissed Alex’s temple. When he spoke, Avery’s voice was soft and close to Alex’s ear. “I’ll return before the moon is full again.”

Alex closed his eyes, blocking Avery’s radiant yellow hair out of his peripheral vision. The moon was full just last night. His heart thumped hard and sad. Would this be the trip Avery didn’t return from? Sometimes Alex was convinced Avery would leave his life, leave the country, start over somewhere else. Sometimes—this time— Alex was convinced Avery’s head would be returned to him in a box.

“Stop that. I’ll be back before you realize the time has past.”

Alex sighed and sat up. “Be careful. If you need help—“

“I will send for Dillon.”

“I refuse to say goodbye.” Alex flopped over to his part of the bed, laying down again, and looked out the window.

The mattress moved and Avery curled around him, wrapping him in arms and legs. “Fine.”  Avery’s hand glided down Alex’s chest lazily. “But how about a proper good morning?”

Not sure what I’m going to do with this. Whether it’s part of the main story or not. Maybe it’s time I plot that story out. Add one more outline to the growing pile of unwritten things…

Avery peeled a piece of entrail? off the back of his neck. He needed a bath in the worst way. Going to the staff bathhouse was tempting. He could get clean and then go to Alex and Dillon.

He climbed the narrow, dark stairs of some long forgotten back passage. The passage exited two floors above Alex’s suite. Avery went to the window, hooked the sill, then slid down to the roof over Alex’s balcony.

Alex was already in his suite, moving around. Doors, probably to the armoire, opened and closed. Water splashed. Then there was quiet.

He would just stay on the roof until Dillon returned from his party. Avery almost regretted pushing Dillon back into society. But with Dillon in society, he could be with Alex and guard him. Avery, who was still little more than nobody, could never be accepted like that. It mattered little. Avery preferred being the hidden party. Whenever people saw him, they looked on him with pity—the jilted lover of Lord Effingham. Bastard.

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Written for Sam’s Challenge #9. Prompt: Small Town Saturday Night. In the OWNMO universe.

Elliot, chin perched on the back of his hand, stared out the open window. The strong shafts of light from the west illuminated his face, giving him an unearthly glow. He hadn’t yet noticed me, standing in the doorway. His back, unlit by sun and covered in black wool, disappeared into shadow, giving the impression he was part of the shadow.

I shifted my wings, pulling them tight to my body.

The shushing sounds of my feathers reached him wherever his thoughts were. His head snapped around. He stood so fast, the stool he had been sitting on fell to the floor. A blush worked its way up his neck and covered his face.

“A-Andner.”

I walked in, putting a slight swagger in my gait, then leaned against the high counter. “Evening, Elliot. Got anything for me?”

His stared at me, his expression blank. Then his eyes widened and he swung around. Too quickly. He must have stepped on the bottom of his robe, because after one step instead of moving forward his was flying towards the counter. At the last moment his arms shot out and he caught himself.

“Okay, there El?”

His face was red as the sunset in the west. “Yeah. I uhm. Stupid robes, too long, and I…” His voice trailed off into incomprehensible muttering. I put my bag on the counter for Elliot to put the letters in. “There’s a lot for the lowlands this time. Something must be happening.”

“Hmm? I hear one of ours is missing. They’re organizing. I’m surprised you have been enlisted to join the hunt.”

He stopped sliding letters deftly into the bag at that. “Me? Enlisted?” He snorted. “No. I am so bad at everything they stuck me in the mailroom.” He resumed packing my bag, and the blush faded from his face. That wouldn’t do. Not one bit.

“Well, my gain. And here I thought they put the nicest looking man in the mail office for my benefit. A bright shining light in a dark, dull life of flying back and forth, over and over.” I heaved a melodramatic sigh.

The blush was back. He looked up at me, his lips twitching. “Sorry to have to tell you this, Andner, but no.”

He slid my bag over to me. If I left now I could make it to the lowlands before first light and be back on my way. That would be safest. He looked at me, waiting. The sun no longer lit his face, and anything akin to light came from his bright eyes.

“Tell me.” I leaned forward so that mere inches separated our lips. His eyes were large and bewildered.

After a moment, thick such that few things could dissipate it, he licked his lips, deep red in the darkening room. “Tell you what?”

“What is there to do around here on a Saturday night?”

“Um.” He inched closer. I doubt he even knew he did it. “Well, um. The monks taste their ale. For quality.”

“Is that so—“

The door slammed open. A young man ran in, looked around, then dove out the window.

“What in the wor—“

Another man ran in. “Was Chris just in here?”

Elliot laughed. “Yeah. He went out the window.” Elliot pointed to the opposite window.

“Thanks!” The man left out the door and ran in the direction Elliot had pointed.

“What was that?” I was irritated the spell had been broken, but my curiosity easily overcame my ire.

Elliot chuckled and shook his head. “That was Brother Christopher. And then Brother Oren. They spend their Saturday nights… well I’m not sure exactly what they’re doing. As I was saying, most of the brothers ensure the ale’s quality is high. Would you like to join us?”

I sat back, my wings fidgeted on their own volition. “Won’t I stand out?”

“At first sure. Just tell one of your silly human-angel mishap stories, have a couple drinks. You’ll fit right in.”

I didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Elliot’s looks had started lingering on my mind long after I picked up and delivered mail at the monastery.  “Okay. But if it’s awkward, I’m holding you responsible.” I grinned at him, so he knew I wasn’t serious.

He came around from behind the counter. His smile was neither awkward nor flustered, but happy. Just happy.

Original Article

Reblogging for the daytime crowd <3

Aware is a 4k Friends to Lovers ficlet. Note: This short contains explicit material. (apologies for any typos, they’ll work themselves out over time)

eBook Files: [ePub] [mobi/Kindle] [PDF]

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This close to the stage, what probably appeared like merely lackluster lighting effects to the crowd further back were bright white strobe lights directed right into Bry’s face. There should have been epileptic seizure warnings on the doors, for fuck’s sake. The lead singer moved around the stage in practiced, precise moves completely lacking in spontaneity or genuine emotion. The crowd roared when the man hopped onto a box then jumped off, knees bent. Stiff. Fake. Intended to woo the crowd.

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Aware is a 4k Friends to Lovers ficlet. Note: This short contains explicit material. (apologies for any typos, they’ll work themselves out over time)

eBook Files: [ePub] [mobi/Kindle] [PDF]

This close to the stage, what probably appeared like merely lackluster lighting effects to the crowd further back were bright white strobe lights directed right into Bry’s face. There should have been epileptic seizure warnings on the doors, for fuck’s sake. The lead singer moved around the stage in practiced, precise moves completely lacking in spontaneity or genuine emotion. The crowd roared when the man hopped onto a box then jumped off, knees bent. Stiff. Fake. Intended to woo the crowd.

Read More