Chapter Text
“Don’t touch me.” There is an edge to Viren’s voice in the cool air and Aaravos stays his hand from the path it had been tracing towards his temple.
“No?” A strange man this. He had known it somehow since he first saw the glimmer of his reflection through the glass of the mirror.
“No.” There is an air of heavy finality in his voice, a little sigh that escapes his throat.
It has been so long since Aaravos has stood so close to another person, he is close enough to feel the hint of warmth that emanates from Viren’s skin. He had almost forgotten the many little imperfections of human skin, the nicks and the pores, the lines and the blood blue veins that run below its surface. It is strange the way these things combine, give them life and they are fragile as moon moths and somehow no less beautiful.
“And yet... I think you want it.”
And he does, it is easy enough to read in those grey eyes, the faint longing in them that scuds like winter clouds across the sky. He has known so many humans in his time, countless numbers of them, all with their little hopes and desires, all with strange dreams wrapped up inside them. They were always such little things really, such small things they wanted.
And Viren starts, stares at him, seems to shudder slightly.
“You want this.” And Aaravos continues the movement of his fingers through the space between them, watches Viren blink rapidly, there is the slight catch in his breath as Aaravos’s hand meets his skin. “There, it’s not so bad is it?”
Viren’s eyes close on the blink, there is a long moment where he stands there, stiff and immobile, like stone, then he gives the slightest of nods, almost imperceptible. Aaravos lets his hand run down the sharp line of his cheek bone, he can feel the shake of him beneath his fingers. It fills him with an odd emotion, something he had once felt and long forgotten.
He has become something else in the years that have passed, so many years have faded into dust while he has been alone.
“Oh, I know how much they hurt you Viren.” He brings up his other hand as Viren opens his eyes again, cups his face. “I would never hurt you. You found me.”
The Mage’s eyes are careful, there is no real trust in them, just the strange shadow of death that seems to reside in him.
“It was Claudia.”
“Yet I was waiting for you.”
There is a moment when he thinks Viren will withdraw from him, as if he has overstepped some invisible boundary, but then his head drops, his hands clench at his sides.
“Don’t say that.”
Oh he is so brittle, he thinks he could squeeze this man in his hands and he would fracture into a thousand pieces. He takes another step towards him.
“I knew you would find me.”
He runs a hand along Viren’s shoulder, feels the tight lines of the muscles there. He is close enough that the warmth of his breath is soft on his skin. Centuries, it has been centuries since he has felt anything like this.
“Aaravos.”
He is a broken man, Aaravos can feel the many ways the world has broken him, stripped him of what it means to be human. This world he had once tried to balance, as if a perfect equilibrium was possible. He knows better now.
It is not.
He will rage and he will burn, he will set things back to their base components, but first he will do this one small thing.
“I won’t betray you, I won’t turn from you the way everyone else did. I won’t use you and leave you to die. Don’t you think that I’m better than them? How long did they let you chip yourself apart? When did they say enough, it’s enough, you’ve given enough?”
He lets the edge of rage colour his voice, and Viren's eyes snap to his for a moment.
“It was never enough.”
“Yet it is, you have given enough, and now I will give your life back to you.”
He watches Viren drop his head and he steps forward to catch it on his shoulder. He has the feeling of life, a feeling Aaravos had almost forgotten, the way it crackles under his skin, so many things working together in a peculiar harmony. The way it fizzles and burns in him, the way it will devour him so quickly.
“Mage, there are things I am capable of that go beyond anything this world has ever seen, but this is the thing I will start with. I will draw on the depths of the stars themselves, I will go back beyond the primal sources, back to the deepest magic there is and I will return your life to you. You gave it for me after all, don’t you think I owe you that?”
He feels Viren go limp then, as if something has washed out of him, he loses his stiffness, goes soft in his arms and Aaravos traces over the hair at the back of his head. Human’s burn like fireflies on a summer’s evening, so pretty and bright, they burn out their light into the darkness, there is something to admire in that, something to love in it.
He feels Viren’s arms close around his back, feels the beat of him, he hadn’t known just how much he’d missed it until that moment. He has missed so many things, he wants the touch of hands against his skin, he wants to feel the caress of this man’s hands.
The rub of Viren’s hair is soft against his cheek.
Centuries. It is a flame within him, they would have destroyed him, but now it is his time. He will taste this world again, he will savour every little piece of it and he will savour this, he will touch and be touched and he will let his feelings run wild.
His foes will fear him, they will cower from his blaze, but there are others, he will let the others adore him.