Jul. 30th, 2016

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Title -- Love and Loyalty PART VII
Author-- AnonymousAvatar
series -- A Distant Soil
Disclaimer -- Colleen Doran owns all
Rating -- NC-17
Characters/Pairing -- Seren/ Kovar, D'mer/Seren
Summary -- D'mer is on Kimar, fulfilling his marital duties. Kovar and Seren are truly alone for the first time.

Part V Part VI

There was a clumsy scramble for clothes and dignity to meet Jorvana’s 15 minute deadline. A part of Kovar wanted to bark at her and send her on her way without her prize Major in tow, but he didn’t want to offend the Avatar or risk losing favor, even though the Avatar was slow to vex, and quick to forgive. There was no time for a shower with water, with blood in his hair, the smell of sweat and bile, and his desperate need to feel the warm, relaxing torrent over his skin. He had to settle for a few passes of the cleanwave, which did not satisfy.

Rorvian was not his valet, but acted as one this evening. Kovar hadn’t assigned anyone to serve him in his private apartments since coming to the Avatar’s household, and had been as solitary and celibate as an acolyte since Saveris’s death. He’d brought no servants with him, as the Avatar could not afford them and he would be insulted if Kovar paid for them himself, even though Kovar was considerably wealthier than the Avatar.

Even in his haste, Kovar carefully and reverently folded his soiled uniform. He removed the wide silver sash he wore, the symbol of his mourning, and set it aside. It was the only outward display of grief Kovar made after Saveris’s funeral. The sash had come through his struggle with Trevian unsoiled.

Rorvian presented Kovar with a clean formal uniform from the Major’s closet. There had only been time to make two of the expensive garments since Kovar had come to serve the Avatar, so his dress options were limited. He could have had Saveris’s uniforms altered to suit him, but Kovar had insisted on sending them to eternity in the company of his dead lover on the funeral pyre. They took months to make, as only an acolyte of the Avatar’s house was permitted to create them by hand. Kovar found the ritual and expense involved absurd, but then, he had insisted on destroying an article of clothing so rare and meticulously crafted it qualified as an art object. After that, he supposed, he had no right to meddle in the traditions of the Avatar’s house.

Kovar frowned at the silver and white garment Rorvian held out to him. “No,” he said. “Something less formal.”

Rorvian looked confused. “For a private dinner with the Avatar?”

Kovar had dined with the Avatar in the company of others, but never privately. And never since he’d come to serve Seren. Seren, though genuinely fond of Kovar, had been unable to get past a childlike awe of men from Teramis, with their size and severity and cool discipline. Saveris had been the exception: his easy charm, kind manner, and extraordinary patience had won Seren’s trust and his heart. And while Seren trusted Kovar completely, he could never quite get over the feeling he was being judged whenever the Major looked at him.

Everyone felt this about Kovar, but Seren was too young and insecure not to take it personally.

“No, no, something I’d wear to a night with friends. Loose trousers, a shirt. Didn’t I bring anything from home?

Rorvian was at a loss. Kovar had never worn anything but the uniforms of the Avatar’s house since coming here, so he had no idea what Kovar might have in his closets. While the Major moved the wand of the cleanwave over his naked body and grabbed for fresh smallclothes, Rorvian discreetly turned away to give Kovar privacy, and made a dash to the closet again. A servant would be used to this kind of intimacy with a superior, but Rorvian was not, and his cheeks flushed at the sight of the former prince in his impressive glory.

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