#nova blast

Thrace could not fully relax as he bathed after cleaning the fish. He kept expecting Nova to barge into the cabin, take the cloth and soap from him, and insist upon aiding him. Nova had whispered of such as they were cleaning the fish, whispered what he would do, how he would touch him. He closed his eyes and tried to push away the image of the rotten pirate doing just that.

He failed.

And never could he mind; no one need know his thoughts. A soft moan slipped from his lips, he could nigh feel Nova’s big hands gliding over…

“Then I am not too late.” Nova grinned wide seeing Thrace in the tub. He closed the door behind him and strode over to the tub, pulling off his coat as he went.

“Fuck!” He glared.

“Do ye wish it then?” He tossed his coat aside and started pulling at his jerkin, uncaring if he lost a button. “A hot tumble?”

“Nae. I seek not a tumble, but was swearing that I took too long.” Thrace gripped the cloth tight, ready to fight for its keep. “How is this a seduction when constantly are you badgering me? ’Twas only three days previous that we met, two of which I saw hardly a moment of you for the storm, and suddenly I am supposed to fall into bed with you?”

Nova stopped undressing, realizing what Thrace said was true. He was moving quick, quicker than he usually would. “My apologies. I…” Shit. “Admit I must to being anxious.”

“Anxious to gain your vengeance against Xaev? That makes me want to fall into bed,” his voice dripped with sarcasm.

Nova opened his mouth and then closed it. Again he opened his mouth, certain he knew what to say, but closed it once more knowing that whatever words he thought to say, they were wrong. Finally he decided the truth needed telling. “Nae. Were it just that, I would be moving slow and proper, gain yer trust, yer affection. I… Anxious I am because…because the thought of marrying Yoona fills me with dread. You and Feather spoke of such things so ye know that I am to marry this autumn and unless…unless something catastrophic were to occur, there is naught that can stop it.”

Thrace lessened his hold on the cloth and knew in that moment that something was changing betwixt them. Whether or not ’twas a good thing would be decided later. “I… I felt the same regarding mine. Handsome is Xaev, but when he kissed me, I felt naught for him. I felt much unease with the embrace. Truth be told, never was I able to imagine accepting him into my bed. No desire did I feel to undress him, to touch him, to have him do the same with me.”

Nova grabbed a chair and sat by the tub. He stretched his legs out and crossed his arms over his chest and concentrated his line of vision upon Thrace’s face or he might continue undressing and join him in the tub. “I know not why he would want to marry ye, for never had I known him to be interested in men. Many times when one protests an interest, ’tis oft proven that they do indeed hold interest, but never did he even make face or comment when he would see me seek out a man for the evening. He held nae care, nae thought; ’twas a non-event. Truth is…I never knew what interested him for never had I seen him go off with a woman either. Only do I have his insistence that he would marry naught but a maiden. For all I know that was a joke upon his part.”

“He kissed me not as a man would kiss another man.”

“Then ye have been kissed by other men?”

“Aye, aye. A certain way there is when men kiss, a strength to the kiss that is missing when a man kisses a woman. Though since we are being truthful, I wondered about his own experience for there seemed little in his kiss.”

“And methinks that ye cannot be maiden to know such a thing.”

Thrace laughed and began rubbing the washing cloth over his arms. “Never did I say I was. If Xaev thought it of me, I know not where he gained the notion. Also have I kissed a woman, which I found interesting, but not interesting enough to attempt more than once.”

Nova’s eyes suddenly took notice of the cloth’s movement over Thrace’s finely muscled right arm and found himself staring at an ornate set of markings covering from shoulder to hand. “Tattooed ye are.”

Thrace stopped washing and looked at his arm. “Aye, tattooed I am; tattooed are you.”

“Aye, but I knew not that those of the Northern Seas held such decoration.” He motioned to the tattoo. “What is it?”

“The Asqa Spear.” He held up his hand to show the tip of the spear. “Every Grand Dusal or Dusalla has held it. Received it I did the day I commanded my first splitfan migration—I was sixteen. There was quite the celebration that evening.”

“Most surprising I must say.”

His brow furrowed. “I understand not your surprise when you have tattoos covering nigh the whole of your left side.”

“’Tis…a cultural thing.”

With a nod of understanding, he returned to washing. “’Tis quite extensive the work done. Beautiful as well.”

“A prince I am and first born, and…” He pushed that away. “Do ye have other tattoos or is the spear the extent of yer decoration?” Nova grinned when Thrace glowered at him, again his hand pausing. “’Tis a simple question and one asked in sincerity.” He motioned to a spot on Thrace’s chest, just under the wet mat of hair. “It looks like ye have one over yer heart.”

“Two ravens to represent my father and grandfather’s journey to The Everafter.”

“Ravens? Why ravens?”

“’Tis cultural, dating back to the time of the very first Everdaimon, long before Yeryl and Zasara, when the Northern Continent was filled with unending war over territory. Ravens aided in escorting the spirits of the dead to The Everafter.”

“Surprised I am such things still remain.”

“Those of the Northern Seas hold long memories.”

“I suppose much can be answered with cultural. Any other tattoos?”

“Three…” Thrace paused trying to decide if he mentioned… He tried not to think of that one, but not wishing to lie… He sighed. “Four others do I have. One on my back, two upon my right leg and,” he turned his right arm over to display a bow nocked with three crossing arrows on the inside of the forearm, “this one. ’Twas done after a successful hunting competition. Won it I have thrice.”

“And why there are three arrows?”

“Nae, ’tis three because when I received it, I could hold three, now am I able to hold five. I need prove it at The Hunt so it may be added to.” He pointed to the filigree lines behind it. “These indicate the three wins. ’Tis much the deal, The Hunt; all of the Northern Countries compete.”

“Like yer hoquet?”

Thrace thought about that for a moment. “Mayhap, or very close to it. Hoquet, at least at this time, ’tis just Nortand and her provinces that compete, though the other countries do play. Plans I had to enter The Hunt once more—’tis being held in Sandyl this time—but it looks as if ’twill not bear fruit.” He brushed his hand over the tattoo and then once again returned to bathing, running the cloth under his arms, washing the pits.

“What is hunted?” Nova shifted his position slightly, crossing and uncrossing his ankles as he watched Thrace lift his arm up, exposing the side of his chest, admiring the way the muscles and skin stretched along the ribs. “Is there a quantity hunted, a specific size of the quarry needed?”

“Nae, nae. ’Tis… We do hunt various quarry, but ’tis only a small part, and what is hunted is used to feed those present for the competition. The Hunt, ’tis mostly a competition of skill. Inanimate targets are set up at various heights amongst the trees—small ones, large ones, those that move, those that are still—and each competitor hunts them, strikes as many as possible in the allotted amount of time. No set course is there, so each hunt is different for each participant. The targets are set by magik and counted by magik.”

“Are there those that cheat?”

“There have been such individuals, but always are they outed. The magik used is strict and unforgiving. Does one cheat, one is turned bright red and their scent turned most foul for a year.”

Nova laughed. “Aye, sounds indeed strict. And would make life most unpleasant. So, you have won thrice?”

“Aye. ’Tis quite the endurance challenge as ’tis held within one of the various mountain ranges across the Northern Continent—every two years a different country hosts which keeps the areas fresh, the game plentiful, the competition fierce. Some of the targets, the ones worth the most points, are at the higher elevations. Mayhap next time. ’Twill be in Koniaq then. Never have I been, so should prove exciting.”

“Would ye be my lover?” Nova blurted. He went still, unable to believe that he had actually asked it. He had never asked before, there had never been need to ask. But the words were out and all he could do was wait and try not to call them back.

Thrace went still, even his lungs, but then his prick dared twitch at the offer and his breath continued in and out, but perhaps a little quicker than before. “Captain, whether or not you seek vengeance, ’tis a temporary acquaintance ours. You are to marry and I am to return to Asqala.”

“Is it something ye would regret, being with me?”

“Most likely not, but… Allow me to think upon the matter, at least for a few days.”

“If lovers ye have had previous…”

“I have cared for each of my lovers, some more deeply than others, but I have cared for them. Sex is naught I play with, ’tis a most serious endeavor. I need decide if the ache I will feel at the end of our time is something I could deal with.” He looked at Nova. “And I think I would ache greatly when ’tis over betwixt us.”

Nova dropped to his knees beside the tub and slipped his hand behind Thrace’s neck. He leaned in to kiss the object of his desire, needing to kiss him, but a sopping wet washing cloth was shoved against his mouth.

“I said, I need think upon this, you rotten pirate.”

Nova started laughing. He had never known an individual such as Thrace. He shoved the cloth away and spit out the water that spilt into his mouth. “I just wished a kiss.”

“’Tis never just a kiss with you.”

He bobbed his head from side to side. “When ’tis ye I hope to kiss, I must agree.”

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© A. Jane