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Clive readjusted his mask for about the dozenth time, feeling self-conscious in his black satin and silk rather than the Imperial armor he had happily discarded. “I cannot believe I agreed to this.”
“At least try and pretend to be enjoying yourself,” Cid said, seeming perfectly comfortable in his ridiculous costume of pale blue and yellow, offering flirtatious smiles to anybody who passed by. His face was hidden by a sparkling yellow mask. Clive’s own black mask was carefully selected to cover his cheeks, while the high collar of his fancy shirt took care of the rest of his brand.
“This is ridiculous! Why would the Dominant be here?”
“We can ask him when we find him.”
The vast room, flanked by sweeping staircases and lit with countless lamps and chandeliers, was a constant kaleidoscope of swirling ballgowns, fancy coats, and silly costumes. This being Sanbreque, dragon costumes were plentiful, but gowns and capes of fur or feathers were also in abundance. Clive almost felt underdressed in his basic black ensemble. The air was thick with perfumes and smoldering candles, and the pleasant melody from the small band set up on one side. They alternated between fast and slow songs for the assorted couples.
His eyes roved over the costumed crowd, observing the ridiculous outfits. If he had to continue with this farce, he may as well take in the sights. The women especially were interesting to look at, some in shockingly low-cut dresses, perhaps feeling bold in their anonymity. The bright red feathered costume made Clive quickly look away, seeking something else, until his eyes came to one costumed figure in particular, and his breath caught. He could not explain why. Everybody was fully disguised, it wasn’t like he could see any more of this individual than anybody else, but as soon as he laid eyes on him, he was instantly drawn to him.
He was tall and slender, dressed entirely in deep blue, with a green sash and other green decorations and embellishments. A blue mask covered most of his upper face, with green feathers cascading over his hair. He carried himself like a nobleman, but that was hardly surprising in this occasion. He delicately held a wineglass in one green-gloved hand.
“Well, somebody’s caught your eye,” Cid said with barely concealed amusement as he watched Clive’s transfixed expression. “Which one are you staring at, him or her?”
Clive hadn’t even realized the object of his interest was not alone. She was a scowling woman with short dark hair, a brown dress, and a plain green mask. She looked even less thrilled than Clive to be there, even as her companion seemed right at home. “Him.”
“The bluebird? Well, if you want to go introduce yourself to him, be careful. I think she might just rip your head off.”
“Why would I introduce myself?” Clive tore his eyes away from the captivating figure. “I am here for a reason.”
Cid gave him a gentle push. “And we already have a plan. We wait either for Gav’s signal, or for our Dominant to do whatever it is he plans on doing. In the meantime, we are trying not to stand out. And flirting is a great way to not stand out.”
“Flirting?” Clive hissed. “What are you talking about?” But Cid had melted into the crowd, leaving him alone. “Cid!” He looked around desperately, and abruptly realized he had somehow ended up near the pair. The man tilted his head curiously at Clive, and once they had both noticed each other, neither could look away. All he could see of the stranger’s face was his mouth, and the full lips and easy smile made Clive’s own mouth go dry. Nobody had had this effect on Clive, and he couldn’t even really see him.
The man leaned over and murmured something to his companion. Whatever it was did not go over well, and her scowl melted away into a look that was more concerned than anything. But she obediently walked off, and Clive suddenly found himself alone with the other man. Or as alone as it was possible to be in the crowd.
“Forgive me,” Clive found himself saying. “I don’t normally just approach people like this.” What was happening to him, anyway? To feel such an instant connection to a costumed stranger. In the middle of his quest for vengeance, the only thing that mattered to him.
“You have nothing to forgive,” he said, voice low and melodious. “What do I call you?” He chuckled at Clive’s hesitation – he had not thought to come up with a pseudonym. “Never mind. You approached like a hungry couerl, so that shall be your name for tonight.”
He should have been embarrassed by that comparison, but instead, Clive was pondering on a suitable name in return. While Cid’s comparison to those chocobo-like bluebirds seemed apt, it still would not do.
“You don’t want to say.” He gave another soft laugh. “You were thinking of a bluebird, were you not?”
“Blue for short.” Clive could just barely see that his eyes were blue, in the mask’s shadows. But no, he needed a more regal name. “Or maybe Topaz.”
“Topaz?” he said, clearly amused.
“It’s a blue gem,” Clive said, feeling ridiculous for having to defend a silly anonymous nickname he had come up with.
“Sometimes. Many are yellow, and the name even means ‘fire’.”
“Does it?” Clive swallowed. “I can think of something else.”
“You can call me that if you like.” He finished his wine and set the glass aside, then stepped closer. “Shall we dance, Couerl? Is that not why you are here?”
It took Clive a moment to respond, he had been so mesmerized by the way he had tilted his head back, baring his long slender neck, as he drank. He shook himself. “One of the reasons.” Topaz took Clive’s hand in his, and rested the other on his waist. As Clive placed his own hand on the other man’s shoulder, it occurred to him that the only reason he was annoyed about not leading was the hand placement. No matter; the other man clearly had much more experience in the ballroom, while for Clive it had been more than thirteen years. Sure enough, as he pulled Clive into a slow dance, his feet moved with timeless grace.
“You said one of the reasons,” Topaz murmured.
“I was looking for someone,” Clive said.
“Oh? A different dance partner?”
“Hardly.”
“Good.” The hand on Clive’s waist tightened, just a little, and Clive swallowed nervously again. “That was my reason for attending as well. I was under the impression the crown prince would be here, but alas.” He sighed. “Another time.”
Clive fought down the completely irrational jealousy. “As a dance partner?” It did not help that Topaz simply hummed a noncommittal answer.
They swept past other couples, and if there was any confusion over two costumed men dancing together, they kept it to themselves. Even Clive was mystified, having never felt attraction for another man in his life. After viewing all these lovely ladies, some in quite daring costumes, why was this the one who had captivated him? When a beautiful woman looked their way, why was his first instinct to hold Topaz possessively closer, rather than any desire to talk to her?
“What have you done to me?”
“I could ask you the same question,” Topaz said, and indeed, what could be seen of his face bore the same puzzled attraction that Clive felt. “I should not be doing this. My companion and I came here on important business, and dancing was not on the agenda tonight.”
That made two of them. “You are a good dancer,” Clive found himself saying, and mentally cursed himself for such a stupid comment. He was behaving like a smitten adolescent!
But the other man simply smiled, as if that had been a genuine, intelligent compliment. “Thank you. You are not bad, either, if a little stiff.”
At least he was honest. “It’s been a while.”
The song came to an end, and the dancing couples paused to offer brief applause, before the band launched into the next song, a much faster number. Clive looked to his dance partner, who shook his head.
“I am not fond of the faster dances.”
“Oh.” Clive squashed the disappointment at their evening apparently being over already, after only a single dance. “Well, thank you for—”
“I am not saying we are done.” What Clive could see of his hidden blue eyes practically sparkled. “I have seen many other pairs escape together. There are plenty of other rooms to hide in.”
“Escape… together?” Clive licked his lips. He would be lying if he said the thought did not hold appeal, but…
“I know.” Topaz looked off to the side, perhaps to where his companion had retreated, though Clive had not seen her. And where was Cid? Was he hiding in the crowd, watching Clive and laughing? “We are mad.”
“That we are.” Clive gestured toward the side doors that led deeper into the grand building. “After you.”
As Topaz had stated, there were other pairs leaving together, seeking privacy, and nobody gave the two of them a second glance as they left the ballroom, into the long hallway beyond.
What was he doing? He really was mad! If the Dominant started something, he would likely know about it, but how was he going to see if Cid or Gav signaled him?
But then he looked back at the figure ahead of him, eyes tracking downward. The green sash got in the way, but what he could see of that ass in those tight blue pants made him decide that any problems would just have to wait for later. Cid could find him if it was urgent.
They passed an assortment of rooms that sounded occupied. One was labeled a library, but he could only guess what the others might have been. He was about to suggest that they would have no luck finding an empty room, but Topaz had stopped outside a door that was open a crack, revealing darkness within.
“This looks promising,” Topaz said. He pushed open the door and slipped into the dark room beyond. By the time Clive joined him, the candles were already lit, their flickering golden glow revealing a small sitting room dominated by a very plush couch.
Topaz smiled at Clive’s questioning look at the candles. “A fire crystal shard, of course.”
Clive just nodded, glancing toward the exit, wondering if he was making a mistake. He held his breath, waiting for betrayal as Topaz slowly approached. And you called me the couerl, he thought. But the only attack that came were Topaz’s lips on his, and all thought fled his mind. The masks made it a little awkward, and a small still-functioning part of Clive’s mind wondered why it had not occurred to them to remove the masks here in private. Well, he knew why he didn’t want to.
Clive lost himself, exploring every inch of that sweet mouth, not even realizing he had been backed up against the couch until he stumbled and sat down hard on it, Topaz pulled onto his lap. Clive swallowed hard at that development.
“I will be honest,” Topaz breathed. “This is… new for me. I am not normally like this. I have never even done this with somebody I know well, let alone a stranger. But the moment I saw you, I just knew… there was something…”
“I have never even felt drawn to a man before,” Clive admitted. “It is new to me, as well.”
“Then we shall learn together.” He pressed closer, bringing their lips together again. Clive reached around to place a hand on his slender waist, having missed out when they danced. It was intoxicating; he was intoxicating, and not from the faint flavor of wine that lingered on his tongue.
Clive had not even realized they were moving, shifting around, until Topaz was sprawled on the couch with Clive on top, their kiss having not even broken. Clive untucked the ridiculous blue shirt, trailing fingers over skin, enjoying the gasps he elicited. He trailed kisses down his jaw, wanting a taste of the slender neck.
“Couerl,” he moaned.
Clive smiled against the rapid pulse in Topaz’s throat. He supposed he liked that name. It was a nice change from Wyvern, and spoken with such reverence. He placed more kisses along his neck, but then…
Topaz’s skin had grown fever-hot against Clive’s lips, and with a frown, he sat up. He knelt there, straddling Topaz, peering down at him.
“What is it?” Topaz whispered.
“You.” Clive’s eyes narrowed. He pulled a glove off and ran it along Topaz’s taut exposed stomach. It was as if his passion burned like an inferno under his skin, only much too literally. “Your skin is very warm.”
“I… yes?” he said, confused.
“And I have felt every inch of you, and there is no trace of a crystal shard.” Topaz’s breath caught, but Clive gave him no time to make excuses. “The one I was looking for, the reason I came here tonight, is a Fire Dominant. Might that be you?” It was a long shot, it was a great leap to a horrible conclusion… but once the thought entered Clive’s head, he could not dislodge it. Deep in his gut, he knew he was right.
“Couerl…”
“Is it you?”
“What is it you want with your Dominant?” Topaz said softly.
Clive did not hesitate. He wrapped a hand around Topaz’s throat, watching eyes grow wide behind their mask. “To kill him,” he said. “That is all I want. It is the only thing that has kept me going for many years.”
“If I am a Dominant,” Topaz said, only the slightest of tremor in his voice, “would I not be able to easily stop you?”
“Maybe I am just that good of a kisser.” Or maybe for the same reason Clive was using his hands and not his Blessing. So he could feel it. He squeezed a little harder, and flames danced on Topaz’s fingers. Clive almost saw flames dance behind his eyes as he was filled with rage, finally confronted by his greatest enemy after all these years. How quickly the burning passion had become burning anger, and it was just as all-consuming. “Tell me,” he growled. “Just tell me why. Why did you kill my brother?”
“What!?” Topaz’s jaw dropped as he stared up at the man who had so rapidly transformed from adoring to murderous. “Your… you think I…” He gasped as well as he could with his throat constricted. “Clive?”
“What?” Clive released him, backing away. He was already numb at the revelation of his mysterious stranger’s identity. It should not surprise him that he know his identity – after all, he had come for them on that horrible night – yet Topaz speaking his name still shocked him.
Topaz rubbed his throat, but he never took his eyes from Clive. With his other hand, he reached up and pulled the mask away, tossing it aside. Clive froze, his heart stopping; everything stopped, time standing still as he stared at the beloved familiar face. Any changes the years had made to it mattered not; he would have known that face even if a hundred years had passed. “Joshua?” he breathed. Clive reached up with numb fingers and tore his own mask off.
They sat like that for countless breathless heartbeats, just staring at each other in disbelief. A thousand possibilities of things to say sprang to mind, but no words came out. Nothing seemed right. Clive finally reached out, pulling Joshua into his arms. “My brother.”
They held each other close and wept. All of the built-up flames within Clive – the lust, the rage – had completely died. Now he just felt… exhausted, emotionally and physically. “I don’t…” he tried. “You…” No words seemed right! “How?”
“I don’t know, myself,” Joshua mumbled against his shoulder. “The Undying found me, Clive, barely alive in the rubble. They cared for me. It was… it was a while before I even woke up.”
“I’m sorry.” He held Joshua tighter. “I’m sorry! I’ve tried to find him.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Joshua said quickly, pulling away. He was smiling through his tears. “You’re here.”
“I’m here.” Clive swallowed thickly. “You also thought me dead?” Joshua’s nod twisted his stomach.
“It was only in the last few years I found out you lived. But you were… a prisoner, I couldn’t…” He shook his head miserably. “I could not go to you. But I have been trying to get to the bottom of what happened.”
“And now we can do so together.” Clive stroked his cheek, still barely able to believe this was real. “You can come with me! You and your companion. You will like Cid, and the home he has made for freed Bearers.”
Joshua almost seemed to hesitate, but finally nodded, and then they were hugging again.
Clive had no idea how long they remained there on the couch, tearfully embracing, and somewhere in the back of his mind it occurred to him that their companions must be wondering where they were. Well, they were just going to have to wonder. He had come seeking revenge. He had thought he had found something better, and he ended up finding something even better than that.
“Clive…” Joshua pulled away again, after considerable time had passed. He wiped his eyes. “So…”
“What is it?”
“Are we not going to talk about what… almost happened here?”
“Oh!” Clive drew closer, inspecting Joshua’s neck for bruises. “I am so sorry, brother. Did I hurt you? I would sooner cut off my hand—”
“No, not that.” Joshua waved away his concern. And yes, Clive had figured he probably wasn’t talking about that. “But… before?”
Before. When he had looked across a crowded room, and saw somebody who took his breath away, who captivated him in a way nobody ever had or ever could. He had felt a powerful connection, which now he understood, but at the time he had completely misinterpreted. And Joshua had felt the same thing, and jumped to the same wrong conclusion. They had kissed, they had felt each other, they had planned on doing far more. It had been indescribable. And he honestly did not think he would ever feel that way with another person again.
“No,” Clive finally choked out. “No, please, let us not talk about that now. Later.”
Joshua nodded, gripping Clive’s hands. “Later, of course. Now let us go, meet each other’s friends.” He chuckled, the throaty sound reminding Clive once again of exactly what they had retreated into this room for. “Oh, this will be fun…”
Because Cid and Joshua’s companion knew exactly what was on their minds when they met each other. Cid was never going to let him hear the end of it…
They stood together, and as they made their way toward the ballroom Clive talked about everything that came to mind. He spoke of finding Jill, and Torgal, and whatever would remind them of their childhood and not the past evening. Joshua told him about his Undying companion. They approached the grand double doors, replaced their masks on their faces, and took each other’s hands. With deep breaths, they returned to the dancing, costumed crowd of lusty partygoers.