by AO Spade
The great gray stallion bowed his head. "Very well."
They walked toward the trees. The cold air pressed against the mage's skin. Alvarr fought off his general feeling of illness until finally, he shifted to four-legs as well. The world swam around him at the change in perspective. He shifted back quickly and shook his head.
"What is it?" Laren had gone a few feet ahead, but returned quickly, his hooves lifting in a one-two beat.
"I cannot shift into four-legs," Alvarr said, trying to keep any distress out of his voice. "It makes me feel worse, much worse." Something new to tell the Elders.
Laren shifted to two legs and hovered near the smaller mage. "If you need-"
"I'm fine," the mage said, holding up his hand. "The Elders are going to look for answers in the things I brought back. I know they will find a way to help me."
"If you were so ill, why did you leave in the first place?" Laren's voice had a hint of anger.
Alvarr tried not to show his impatience with the leader. Ignorance does not suit you, the Elder had said, and Alvarr found himself much of the same opinion. "I wasn't sick when I left. I somehow became more sensitive to the taint that our territory carries."
"It is not tainted-"
"Romeya," Alvarr said.
Laren made no reply.
Maybe this was a waste of time. Laren seemed to just want to argue, and Alvarr was in no shape to confront him. He steered them toward his favorite place in the woods. If anywhere could help him feel better, it was there. For a long moment, the only sound was that of their footsteps.
"When you didn't come back, I thought you'd died," Laren said.
"I know," said the mage.
Laren's hand gripped Alvarr's shoulder. "What are you talking about? You weren't here."
They were just inside the trees, and the dry scent of evergreen needles calmed Alvarr and helped him think clearly. If I tell him, he might believe me about the other visions. But if the leader confirmed that the mage's vision truly had come to pass, Alvarr could not pretend that it was only his imagination. He shuddered, and Laren's hand tightened.
"Tell me," the leader commanded.
"I saw it in a dream. You were with Elder Sevan," the mage said. "You said you didn't think I was coming back. Elder Sevan said I had left for a reason, and that you must trust that I would return." And you said that I had cause to leave. What did you mean by that? "You were overlooking the land separating us from the mares, the great grasslands."
"Your magic is frightening," Laren whispered.
Alvarr broke free of his hold and twisted to face the leader. "So it's true, then? That really happened?"
"Just as you described," Laren said grimly. "I don't like this at all."
That makes two of us. "This part of my power scares me, too."
Laren gave an unbelieving laugh. "You could destroy us all, like that Alvi, you say her name was."
"But why would I want to?" the mage cried. "Even if I could… but I can't, Laren. My magic only grows. It does not destroy." Except in the case of the blood flowers, and that was not me. "I… I give life, I ask Nature to change its pattern. That is all my power is for."
"Like your friend, Barron," the leader said, folding his arms.
The word friend had an emphasis that set Alvarr on edge. "Why do you stand against me having a friend? There are no other stallion mages. Everyone is afraid of me. I have no idea what's going on." To his horror, tears started welling up in his eyes, and he looked down to disguise it. "Laren, I had no one to talk to."
Laren squeezed both the mage's shoulders in a warm grip. "You should have come to me."
"Oh, please," the mage said, breaking away from his grasp again. Anger dried up the threatening tears, and he grew frustrated at his out-of-control emotions.
Alvarr started walking again, trying to escape the conversation. "You can barely stand the sight of me. You don't appear to care at all, and-"
"That's not true." The leader caught up to him and kept pace. "I… you are one of the tribe. You are under my protection." He huffed. "And you shouldn't have made everyone worry, leaving for so long."
Everyone? As far as Alvarr knew, none of the others cared at all whether he lived or died, except when his powers were in demand. But even if he had left people behind who would worry, he still would have gone. "I had to get to the truth, Laren. No one else could have done it."
"And you wanted to leave," the leader said.
They had reached Alvarr's birthplace, the small hollow where white flowers bloomed in the spring and summer. Now, everything was covered with fallen leaves and evergreen needles, and the wind blew sharply through the tree trunks. Still, Alvarr had to stay in man-shape.
And stay sensitive to the cold. But at least he was feeling better. Perhaps traces of his magic lingered here, keeping the land's sickness away. He shivered as a breeze blew against his bare skin.
Laren brought him close against his larger body. "You are cold," he said. "We should return."
"No," Alvarr said, shuddering at the touch of the leader's heated skin. "This place helps me. I don't feel as ill, and I have no dizziness."
Laren's hand went to Alvarr's head and moved his long hair out of the way. The other arm wrapped around the mage's waist and pulled him into Laren's side. "If you get worse and need to return, I will bear you on my back," the leader said. "If you think you can hold on."
I hope it doesn't come to that. "I'm all right, truly," the mage said. "Just a bit cold."
"Alvarr," the leader said. "I brought you out here because…" He sighed. "I should say…"
The wind rose, and Laren's arms tightened around the mage when he shivered. "As leader, it was hard for me to hear those things," the large man said. "When you left, it was like I could not keep control over my own tribe. I know it was all for a purpose, but a man can't help the way he feels."
He cleared his throat. "And now, you come back with strange tales of the ancient people, and the story of the rift being true-"
Alvarr's eyes opened wide. It wasn't just a story. "Do you believe it?"
The leader rested his chin on Alvarr's head. "Yes," he said. "Elder Mastok has tried to convince me of it at length, and I have also seen the cave. And then you brought those items. Anyone would be a fool to deny it. Even though it means great change."
We would have great change, anyway, the mage thought. Most of us would die, and even more knowledge, also. "What I did, I did to help the tribe," Alvarr said. He tensed, preparing for more of Laren's resistance.
But the leader surprised him. "At great cost to yourself. You were brave," Laren said. "Maybe more than the rest of us."
All the fight had gone out of the mage, and he was grateful. He didn't want to have to struggle against his leader to preserve the lives of the tribe. Thank Nature that Laren has at least accepted the truth about my intentions.
"I also fear the changes that will come," the mage confessed. "Though my life was hardly perfect, I am afraid of the unknown, like anyone." He let himself lean his hip and shoulder against the larger man, who held steady, like a strong tree in a storm. Maybe there's something about my favorite place that invites truths. The last time they both were here, they had met as friends. Equals, even.
And then, they had mated. Warmth crept over Alvarr's body at the memory, dispelling his chill from the inside.
He became very aware of where his skin touched Laren's. Trapped by the leader's strength, there was no escape. He closed his eyes as his soft human organ began to stir.
"Is something wrong?"
"No," Alvarr said. "I just…" Was it wrong to want comfort from Laren's closeness, even though he said he never wanted to mate again? What would Laren seeding him in man-shape be like? His breath stalled as he dared to imagine the leader behind him in man-shape.
Alvarr pressed his legs together, but it didn't stop his member from hardening. He had to stop his thoughts, but he could not keep from remembering how he had spilled his own seed aft
er a dream of the man beside him… and the discharge of power that had occurred.
That got him under control. The mage pulled away. "We should return," he said, stepping back.
Laren made a slight movement, as though he wanted to turn away, and Alvarr saw it: Laren was also aroused.
The leader's organ was large and extended up along his hard stomach. I want to take it in my hand, Alvarr thought, grateful that the leader did not hide from him.
"Yes," Laren said with a slight frown. "I'm sure you're realized that I am drawn to you, somehow." His hands balled into fists alongside his strong thighs. "I don't understand why I desire this, out of season, but it is obvious that I do."
Alvarr watched the struggle on the leader's face. It is hard for him to give voice to this. After all, the mage had already stepped outside the bounds of normal stallion life. He had been born there. Perhaps it was easier for him to face changes because he was already so different.
"I am drawn to you, as well," Alvarr reassured him. "I do not fully understand it, either, only that I want to mate with you." Slowly, grass began to spring up around them, long, lush blades that started at their feet and spread out to the tree trunks.
His power came so easily during moments like these. The air felt warmer, too, but Alvarr didn't know if that was just the heat of his excitement flushing through his body. I don't know how to mate in this form. On four legs, it was simpler.
Laren put his hands on Alvarr's shoulders again, smoothing his hair off them until skin touched skin. "Last time wasn't right, somehow," he muttered.
"It was fine," the mage said. More than fine. His skin hummed with the need to be touched by the leader's strong hands. Whatever the leader may think, Alvarr knew that this was good. The two of us, together.
"I didn't take enough care," the leader said. He cupped the back of the mage's head with one hand, and steadied him with the other. "Just stay there."
Where would I go? Alvarr thought. Slowly, the leader brought his head down close to Alvarr's, so close the mage could see his golden-brown eyelashes.
Alvarr closed his eyes as Laren's mouth met his own.
Laren's lips are soft. Alvarr didn't know why, but he started shaking, and Laren's arms gathered him up, pulling the mage right up against the leader's body. The mage could feel Laren's breath on his cheek.
Has anyone ever been this close to him?
Laren's heat was more than comfort, more than relief, but it was both those things. It excited Alvarr more than the mage knew what to do with. It was like sinking in water that was too warm, or smelling a flower that was too sweet. Laren's hands ran up Alvarr's back, and the mage could feel every line of his palms, every crease of his fingers. He shook his head and broke away, overwhelmed.
A crease formed between Laren's eyebrows. "You don't like it?"
"I do," Alvarr said, bringing himself into the leader's embrace again. "I like it very much. I just don't know what to..." He leaned his slight weight against Laren, hoping that the larger man would lead him in this.
"Let me taste you," the leader said, cupping Alvarr's head with both large hands.
On instinct, Alvarr tipped his head up again, and Laren met him again. This time, his hot tongue stroked the seam of the mage's lips. One of Laren's hands stroked down Alvarr's long hair and splayed out against the mage's lower back, supporting him.
Everywhere they touched, from Alvarr's chest to his thighs, the mage got a sense of expanding. It was as though all his senses reached out to his leader, wanting to be taken in and held. This can't be what everyone feels during the Time of Breeding.
Laren licked Alvarr's lower lip once more, and drew away, leaving a small space between them. "Open your mouth."
"Why?" Alvarr asked. Laren's eyes are beautiful. I've never noticed, but they are.
"You'll see," Laren said, his voice barely more than a whisper.
Nodding, Alvarr parted his lips a small amount. Laren's lips touched his once more, and his tongue gently touched the mage's.
Alvarr went limp, falling against Laren's chest, but he managed not to break apart from the other man. An energy went through him when they did this, like lightning streaking between them. The mage's legs were useless, but he clutched Laren's shoulders to hold himself up.
"Are you all right?" Laren murmured. Alvarr was going to answer, but his thoughts scattered as the leader's lips ran over the outside of his ear.
"You're sensitive," the leader said. His hot tongue traced the outer edge, leaving a trail of coolness.
If Laren's grip hadn't tightened around his waist, Alvarr would have fallen. His entire world had narrowed to the places the leader touched him. His member had hardened to the point of pain, but it was just one sensation among many.
He was there, with Laren, allowed to be this close to him in his man-shape.
Laren trusted him.
Alvarr regained control of his legs. Feeling daring, he molded his hands to Laren's lower back. The muscles shifted when the leader moved, but Laren stayed still under the mage's exploration.
So strong, yet so soft. Even in his man-shape, the leader had impressive strength, but his skin was smooth. Vulnerable.
Slowly, Alvarr dragged his fingertips around to Laren's hard stomach. I can't believe he is just allowing me to touch him like this. The mage stroked up to his chest.
The leader made a low, rough sound in the back of his throat. "Come here again," Laren said, and the mage raised himself on his toes.
Their open mouths met. Laren's tongue swept into Alvarr's mouth, lapping and tasting the mage, and all Alvarr could do was let him. He was drowning in the energy they created between them; he felt like he was melting against the leader. Alvarr's member was fully extended, pressed up against the Laren's stomach. Like before, it was leaking trails of fluid all over the hard muscle. He moaned against Laren's mouth.
To his disappointment, Laren pulled away. He breathed roughly through parted, wet lips, but his eyes were concerned. "What's wrong?"
"N-nothing," Alvarr said, unable to look away from the leader's flushed face. "Why did we stop?"
"You liked it?" the leader asked again. His eyes moved back and forth, not holding the mage's gaze.
He has never done this, either, Alvarr finally realized. This was not the same as siring a foal. No children would come of this union. They were both there because they wanted to be with each other.
In response, Alvarr leaned up and met Laren's mouth, throwing himself into what they were building between them. He dipped his tongue between the leader's lips and explored his taste.
Laren made a long, deep sound that sent vibrations into Alvarr's body. When the made gasped for air, he was struck by the urge to taste Laren's human skin, and he licked a wet stripe up the leader's neck.
Laren's chest moved in a gasp. Alvarr didn't know why, but he sank his teeth into the leader's flesh and sucked warmth to the surface.
"Alvarr," Laren moaned, swaying.
Heat flashed through Alvarr at the sound. Laren is mine. He stepped close to the leader, bringing one of his feet in between Laren's so that they were fully against each other.
The leader's hard organ pressed into Alvarr's stomach, smearing trails into the mage's skin. Alvarr rubbed up against it, his own member dragging across Laren's hip.
Their lips met again, and they sucked on each other's lips and tongues, trying to get as close as possible. A fine sheen of sweat coated Laren's back where Alvarr clutched at the muscles.
He was moving his hips into Laren, and pleasure sparked under the soft skin of his hard organ every time it met the leader's muscled body. I could bring myself to completion just by doing this.
But a thought made Alvarr try to separate them. What if my power spikes like it did last time? Laren let him go nowhere. Both his hands spread across Alvarr's back as though he were afraid the mage would escape. He pulled Alvarr into him, and their hard, leaking shafts touched.
Both gasped for air. Alvarr's head l
olled on Laren's shoulder as the leader thrust against him. No! I can't risk spilling my seed. My power...
He pushed against the leader, who let him go this time. But before Laren had the chance to doubt, Alvarr boldly reached between them and wrapped his hand around the leader's thick organ.
Hot, soft and hard. It felt good in Alvarr's hand, and somehow, not like his own. The mage looked up. "Is this all right?"
Laren's eyes were closed, and a furrow ran down his forehead. "Y-yes," he said, his voice low and rough.
Alvarr's heart galloped in his chest as the gripped the base of the leader's member. He slid his loose fist over it, inch by inch, until he was holding the flared head in his hand. Remembering his own sensitivity, he touched his thumb to the tiny hole, catching a bead of moisture.
"You can..." Laren said. He moved his hips, sending his shaft back through the mage's grip. As he did, more fluid leaked out the tip.
Elation burst through the mage's chest. Though his own organ was demanding attention, he wanted to focus on his leader. "Have you ever done this to yourself?" he whispered?
Laren opened his beautiful gray eyes and shook his head. "Have you?"
Alvarr smiled, confidence coursing through him. "Yes," he said. "And I... I'm going to do it for you." He stroked Laren up and down, and the other man's hands came down on his shoulders.
"We should sit down," Laren said, and a bright growth of soft grass spread out from the mage's feet. "How do you do that?" the leader said, wonder clear on his face.
I wish I knew, Alvarr wanted to say, but instead he drew Laren down to the soft surface. It is not my imagination. The air is warmer. He was shaking with excitement as he coaxed Laren to lie with his legs outstretched.
When Laren was arranged to his liking, Alvarr swung a leg over his thighs and settled his weight on top of the large man. Laren's expression was hungry as he looked up at the mage, and Alvarr wanted to touch him everywhere.