Cloths of Heaven
Part 2.
(i)
Aya looked up at the woman who stood in the doorway with a long black kimono embroidered with maple leaves and a golden obi slung over her shoulder. “Lord Chloe wants to have supper with you.” She said, “I am here to dress you.”
“I can dress myself.” Aya said firmly, “are there pants to go with this?” He asked.
“In the closet.” Hel answered calmly, “If you know how to dress yourself, Free is still languishing outside your door, by the way.”
“I didn't ask for him and he can go back.” Aya told her rather sharply.
“It's to protect the women, I think, from you, or maybe to protect you from them. Young Miss Sakura seems taken with you.” Hel, like Aya, was not one to mince words.
“She looks like my sister.” Aya said lowering his eyes from her gaze, it was cold and hard. “My sister died, it brings me a measure of peace to deal with her.”
“Sakura says that it is just two friends meeting.” Hel said, “as long as that is all that it is.” She turned, her black hair was gathered in a knot at the back of her head. There was something about her that reminded Aya of Crawford, something he wouldn't allow himself to think. “Ill send someone to dress your hair, you will want to be beautiful for him, I imagine, much rests on his slim shoulders.”
“I'm only meeting him because I have to.” Aya answered.
“It's not as if you have anything better to do, I shall send some garnets and amethysts, to bring out your colouring.”
Aya looked at himself in the mirror and with a sigh began to undress in preparation for a supper, he had always taken care of such matters when he met Crawford, he brushed his hair until it shone and dressed in his nicest clothes despite that they had had supper every night. He missed him. He refused to allow himself to dwell on the past, he would do his duty to Inabayama, and if he survived it, maybe then he would go back to Crawford, if he ever forgave him for leaving the way he did. Crawford would not do his duty for him. Crawford hadn't even told him.
He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly to calm himself, and then stripped down to his underwear, pulling on the white kimono, then the rich grey pleated pants. “Well,” Mihorogi said coming in with a grin, “isn't that just the sight, the palest ass in the whole Seraglio I might add.” She leered just a little but Aya knew it was harmless. Mihorogi flirted like that with everyone. “I've come to do your hair.” She looked around, “Michel not let Yuki go yet?” She asked. “I'll make sure to tell him where you are.” She looked at him and then looked at the stool, hinting he sit down. “You know, most of the girls here would kill for your hair.” She began brushing it out, “actually, Ayan,” she had given him that name the instant she had seen him, it seemed there was another Aya somewhere in the maze of the Seraglio, or there had been, and she didn't want to get them confused in her head, “I'd kill for your hair.” She measured the strands out between her fingers, “what do you use to wash it?”
“Water and olive soap.” He answered, a bit shocked by the question.
“I'll get you some for when you wash it,” she said, “and some almond cream, some of your ends are splitting.” She said a bit firmly, “it might need a trim.” Aya put his hands on his hair, “a trim, Ayan, not cutting. It's rare for men to have such long hair, was there a particular reason.”
Mihorogi was kind and meant well, he could tell her about Crawford, who had loved it more than Ran did, he could tell her how he had loved him but had been betrayed. Eventually he said, “It's a way for me to remember.” That was true enough.
She said nothing more as she dressed it, rubbing sweet smelling oil into the braid, “let me help you with your kimono,” she said lifting the heavy black silk, and draping it around his shoulders, then deftly folded it to be held in place with the obi. “Beautiful,” she murmured.
“Don't use that word.” Aya snapped, then he stopped himself, it wasn't Mihorogi's fault, “I'm sorry, someone used to call me beautiful.”
“As a way to hurt you,” She finished, “but you are.” She corrected. Then she stroked his face with a cold hand, “Chloe's a good man,” she said, “he's funny and charming, and I think he just wants to know how anyone can put up with Sakura.”
“She looks like my sister.” Aya told her honestly.
“Be yourself with him,” Mihorogi said with a smile, “that's all, and eat, you're too thin.”
Aya thought he should offer her a smile, but it had died with Inabayama.
(ii)
When Aya had met Crawford for his late suppers he had always been a little nervous, even if he knew there was no reason for him to be. With Chloe he felt none of that. The whole thing was completely relaxed. Chloe had sat in a huge cushion in front of a small table laden high with wine and finger foods.
His conversation had been witty and charming, his eyes sparkling with humour and mischief. He had been beautiful. Aya had not expected that.
The wine had been free flowing, and he supposed he got a little drunk, but Chloe had been witty and charming, and when their lips met it seemed inevitable. When he had lain with Crawford there was control and passion, he and Chloe had fallen upon each other like it was it had always happened like this between them.
He was drunk, he assumed that was why he had undressed Chloe with a passion he had never given to Crawford, he wanted this, and he didn't know why. Crawford's kisses had burned like fire, but Chloe's were like light against his skin.
There was no oil or they would have consummated their meeting with laughs and grunts, because with Chloe there was laughter.
Later, as Aya collected his thoughts as he pulled his robes about himself, “I,” he said, “I belong to the Nemesis.” He said, “I'm in the Seraglio, this shouldn't have happened.”
Chloe just laughed, “I really don't think he'll mind,” he looked beautiful, sprawled amongst the cushions, “he can take it out on me,” he was smirking, “will you go riding with me tomorrow?” He asked, “if you won't stay the night.”
“I,” Aya began, “I don't want to get you in trouble.” And it was true, whatever this feeling that burned in his chest for Chloe he wanted to protect him.
“You won't,” Chloe assured him, “believe me,” he added with a smirk, “I can send free to look after the little one, I'd,” he sat up, his skin was golden in the candlelight, “I'd like it if you stayed.”
Aya let out his breath slowly letting the robe fall about his feet. “I'd like to.” He said.
Over the following weeks the two of them were basically inseparable. They talked about everything, which Aya found fascinating, what they didn't have in common they could agree to disagree on. The palace had a large conservatory attached to the side and they were walking through the plants when Chloe mentioned the Sir Alaric books with a laugh.
They were both fans but what amazed Aya was that Chloe had actually met the famed Lady Celabrien and discovered that she wasn't that pretty really. They had laughed at that, and what shocked Aya was that he didn't have to fake it.
“I want to swim in the sea,” Aya said offering Chloe a half smile.
“But you didn't bring anything to bathe in.” Chloe said.
“I know.” Aya told him with a smile. Then he smirked. Chloe blinked for a moment then realised what Aya was telling him, “I think I'll join you.” He said.
The water was cold but Aya was impish and Chloe knew that no matter what that he wanted Aya to be with him forever.
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