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I was fascinated with Thara Celehar. And this fascination had taken me completely by surprise. He had such an unassuming appearance and manner at first glance, with his sober prelates' clothes and expressions to match (nothing like my usual type I know). But the more time I spent with him the more I saw past that. Much in the same way that he was fine boned and quietly good looking under the dark circles and severe hairstyle, his personality had hidden depths. He was like a body of still water that you couldn’t tell the depth of until you had waded out and suddenly found the bank slipping away under your feet.
I’d realized that that first night at the Opera; we’d watched the siege and talked about Arveneän’s patrons. Then after discharging my post-performance duties to the cast I’d offered Celehar my further help and bluntly asked him if his job wasn’t just horrible. I knew I was nosy and had the habit of asking unwanted questions but he’d volunteered the information that he had once tried not to follow his calling and found that much worse. Prompted by the surprising vulnerability he’d shown me I’d offered the comparison to my own experience when my voice had changed. I’d half expected him to laugh at me, half expected him to get angry that I’d dare to compare something so trivial as opera with his literal God-given calling. But no. He didn’t get angry or seek to dismiss my words, he’d done the last thing I’d expected and accepted the comparison with grace. He’d even taken it one step further.
‘Is Ulis not the God of dreams?’ He had mused.
Celehar suggested that maybe Ulis had set this dream in my heart, and that my work honored the God no less than his.
I remember my ears dipping in shock as I said ‘you are a poet’. And I’ve looked at him differently since.
I found Thara Celehar intriguing… And so naturally I was more than happy to spend the afternoon in his company going from one pawn shop to another to hunt down all of Arveneän’s pawned jewels.
But I couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed that we didn’t really get to talk about anything else. Oh I was glad that he seemed to gain useful information from it - Arveneän must have lost a fortune at gambling. But, If I was honest with myself, I wanted his attention on me and not Arveneän. I wanted him to look at me with that quiet intensity again. I wanted to try and make him laugh. I wanted to see him let go of a little of his reserve, maybe to peel it away slowly while I peeled off his coat and tugged at the black ribbon that tried it’s best to hold onto his hair.
And now I was following Thara Celehar out of a pawn shop in the zheimela while imagining what his hair would look like loose. Curling around his face or maybe even spread across a pillow.
I was definitely getting ahead of myself.
I wasn’t sure if he would be interested or not. I thought there was a good chance he might be. I had thought so even before I had read the articles about the Duhsladeise will. And while I knew the accusation that he was the younger brother’s lover must have been false (I have known enough kept men to easily recognise Thara isn’t one) I also know that rumors of that nature rarely come about spontaneously. Nepevis Duhalar must have had a reason for thinking he could get away with saying that. And if Celehar was interested in men I was vain enough to think he would be interested in me.
I would still be careful. While I didn’t think Celehar posed a physical threat, small as he was, I didn’t want to make him angry. For some silly reason men who were not, sometimes got angry at you for thinking they were marnis. So I decided to be subtle. I would invite him to dinner and drop the kind of hints that he would pick up if he was marnis, and wouldn’t if he wasn’t.
Subtle was key, and the invitation it’s self was the first hint.
‘The Opera does not perform tonight,’ I told Celehar casually. ‘And I’m starving. Let me buy you dinner.’
‘What?’ he asked, as though he’d never heard of the meal.
‘Dinner. You have to eat, don’t you?’ I said, thinking maybe I was wrong.
‘Well, yes, but-’ Celehar’s eyes flicked to my chest and he cut himself off.
Maybe I was right after all. I realized he had reflexively glanced at my clothes and maybe was concerned that I might want to take him somewhere that he would be embarrassed and feel shabby.
‘We won’t go anywhere fancy.’ I reassured him, ‘But I hate to eat alone, and I flatter myself I’m not bad company.’
‘All right’ he said softly.
I almost sighed in relief and gave him what I knew was one of my best smiles.
Celehar seemed a little quiet on the tram, but not more than usual. And perhaps he was tired, I hoped food would restore him a little. I did my best to make light and friendly conversation as we made our way back to the Veren’malo, and then to the Torivontaram.
Because I was taking Thara Celehar to meet my mother. Firstly because I thought he needed good food. Secondly, because I thought the atmosphere would make him feel more comfortable, the Torivontaram was practically my second home and decidedly not fancy. And finally talking him home to my mother was, if he was paying attention, a clear indication of my intention to court him.
‘Iäna!’ Mother spotted me as soon as I walked in.
‘Is that really you?’ she asked in Barizhin. ‘It has been so long I was beginning to forget what you look like.’
‘Mother, don't exaggerate. I saw you the day before yesterday!’ I protested.
‘Such disrespect’ She said laughing, ‘And from my only son. Where is my greeting?’
‘Hello Mother.’
‘Hello Iäna, how are rehearsals going?’
‘Well, thank you!’ I said. ‘Mother I’ve brought you someone who is in need of your excellent cooking.’
And I turned to introduce Thara Celehar to my mother.
He was very polite, as I had expected. But I could see when Mother started to show us to a table that he was going to object to being my guest.
‘I’m still buying,’ I insisted. ‘And Mother won’t overcharge us.’
Though it earned me a reprimand for her. ‘You are a dreadful child.’
After pouring some tea I said to Thara, ‘Many of the opera come here. so don’t be shocked if you see someone you recognize. They won’t bother us.’
Thara’s eyes widened and he choked on his sip of tea. For a few moments he coughed until he could breath around it again. I watched carefully for any change in his face or ears that signaled anger or distaste and I detected none. I saw uncertainty on his face and then, sadness. I waited for him to say something but he didn’t.
My mother brought us soup and rolls.
When she said you ‘You bless our house, Othala.’ to him in Barazhin,Thara surprised us both responding in kind.
‘Your kindness is a blessing on me.’ he said.
You speak Barizhin?’ my mother said delighted.
‘Only a little’ Thara said.
‘Neverthless. I like this one.’ My mother said to me.
I saw from the corner of my eye Thara’s face went bright pink. The blush spread up to the top of his ears. There was no doubt, he knew what she meant.
‘Mother, don't torment Othala Celehar’ I scolded her.
I wanted him wooed, not mortified.
Mother winked at me and then she added in Barizhin ‘Don’t drive him away’.
I risked translating, thinking I might get a smile out of him, but when I failed to do so I started to get a faintly uneasy feeling.
Oh no.
‘Does that happen often to the people who dine with you?’ he asked with a nonchalant that was betrayed by his bright colour.
‘I have had some spectacular arguments’ I admitted. And the words feel like a stone into the space between us.
I watched him fix his eyes on his dinner and start to eat like his life depended on it. Like he couldn’t wait to get away from me.
I realized I’d made a terrible mistake. This was the opposite of what I’d wanted. Thara was drawing further away from me, not opening up. Could it be he was marnis, but not interested in me and too embarrassed to turn me down?
Or, I realized too late, interested but unwilling - or unable - to get involved with someone connected to a murder victim he was witnessing for.
I felt so stupid. Of course he won’t want to get involved with me, did I need any further proof than the Duhaladeise that such an action would be incredibly dangerous for him? All I had achieved was probably scareing him.
But how to repair the damage? I ate my own soup while I thought about it. I might make a bigger mess of things, but I thought I had to try.
‘i’m really not angling for anything more than company.’ I said.
Thara dared a look up at me from his soup.
‘You are far more restful than most people I know.’ I said.
‘Restful?’ asked Thara with a puzzled look on his face.
And then I proved myself to be anything but. I started to prattle on like I hadn't just embarrassed us both, about opera singers and how annoying we were.
‘I’m just as bad, as I’m sure you’ve noticed’ I said.
Thara said nothing.
‘That was your cue to deny it.’ I laughed. ‘But I am glad you are an honest man.’
‘I have found your conversation Illuminating.’ he said.
Well, damned if I knew what he meant by that.
‘I chose to take that as a compliment.’ I said. And smiled.
Unable to draw Celehar back out of himself and restore our easy exchange, I finish my meal and finally I let him escape me.
I watched him go sadly, finally letting my own ears drop as low as his had been.
‘I am sorry dear one’ said my mother, coming to the table as soon as he left. ‘Your ears tell me that didn't go the way you wanted.’
‘No.’ I sighed and stood to help clear the table, good son that I was, and followed her into the back.
‘Is it possible you made a mistake and he isn’t like you?’ my mother asked.
‘No I think it’s worse than that.’ I said.
Mother raised her eyebrows ‘oh?’
‘I think he IS like me, and I’ve scared him.’
We had deposited the dishes at the sink where the kitchen hands were busy washing, and she turned to head back out into the dinning room.
‘Oh Iäna, ’ she sighed again and patted me on the arm. ‘There is a nice boy out there for you, somewhere. I'm sure.’
‘But I really like him.’ I said and even to my own ears I sounded like a petulant child.
Mother went back to work and I went to collect my coat and despondently walked to the tram. I'd entertained wild fantasies of having company for this walk tonight. But it looked like my only solace would be channeling some of my disappointment into music.