Saerus kissed the elf’s lips, licking at the part between them before pulling away. “You do not judge me. Petram, as much as I rely on him is judgmental. You can accept my flaws.”
“I have many of my own Saerus, you’re aware of that.”
“I’ve heard a tale or two, and it makes no difference to me.”
“It should though, it could leave a stain upon your reputation.”
Saerus laughed. “And why would it, especially if you were to be my King?”
Kharisi’s almond-shaped eyes widened in amazement. Surely he can’t be suggesting we marry? He thought.
“Were things to reach a certain point...” Saerus said, trailing off and letting Kharisi fill in the rest.
Kharisi pulled himself up to an almost sitting position and pulled away just a bit. “Do you know what you’re saying?”
Saerus felt his defenses go up even though he knew Kharisi wasn’t angry. “Of course I do!”
“Saerus, that has never, ever happened in all of our known histories, and most likely before then as well. Do you really think that would be appropriate?”
“Being appropriate and being right doesn’t always coexist Kharisi.” Saerus shrunk down, pulling covers over him up to mid-chest. “I have no idea if I will ever have children, and this country needs to know it will be in capable hands should I no longer be able to rule. I want you to be my successor.”
Kharisi laughed so loud, Saerus had to put a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet. When the elf had calmed down a bit, Saerus took his hand away and placed it on the elf’s chest. “Why is that so funny?”
“Me? A King? What in the name of all things unnatural do I know about being a King? You’ve been preparing for this your entire life. All I’ve ever done is made sure there was enough to drink and my prick was attended to. Do not take this the wrong way, but I feel no allegiance to the people. The country yes, to you, without question, but to the commoners? No.” Kharisi shook his head and started to chuckle. “No my dear Saerus, I would make a horrible leader. I’d probably end up starting a war for slipping it in some fair maiden’s backdoor when she happens to be another King’s wife.”
“You would be trained, of course, taught everything I’ve been shown.”
Kharisi continued to shake his head. “If you truly wish to do me a kindness, and elevate my lowly stature, start here,” he said pointing between his legs.
“I am very serious, Kharisi,” Saerus said, clearly not amused.
“So am I, it will not suck itself. I’ve tried.”
Saerus rolled his eyes, and crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at the elf. “Oh come on Saerus, you know this is a bad idea. You have no idea how much your faith in me-as misplaced as it might be, means. Would I have had that kind of support growing up, I might have been King material. But I didn’t, and I am not fit to be a ruler.” He saw his own King look away, a tear in his eye, obviously hurt by the rejection. Kharisi pulled him close and forced Saerus to look at him. “Saerus, understand something, were I not so attached to you, I would say yes in a heartbeat. I do, however, not wish to cause you problems, or shit on your legacy. I value you for what we have, and I can only hope that is enough.”
Saerus laid his head against the elf’s chest, listening to his heartbeat. He ran a hand around the bare skin, and slowly let his fingers move down, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Kharisi closed his eyes, and leaned his back, enjoying the sensation. He could feel the tip of Saerus’ tongue swirl around his navel, licking and lapping at the flesh below it, while a hand massaged between his legs. Saerus grabbed Kharisi’s now excited member though the undergarment and slowly began to stroke it. The elf let out a groan and pumped his hips in rhythm to the stroking. The soft skin of Saerus’ hand against his vein laden prick was the stuff of legend, He could have let him go on forever, and never get tired of Saerus’ delicate touch.
As the motion slowed down, Kharisi opened his eyes and looked down at Saerus. Blood was welling from under his shirt as his eyes rolled up in the back of his head. His body fell to the floor with a thump. Kharisi jumped over the side, grabbed Saerus and placed him back in the bed, slapping his cheek to get him to come to, though it was pointless.
Saerus was unconscious and Kharisi had no idea what to do.
Outside, the moon sunk beneath gathering clouds and thunder rumbled in the distance. Kharisi pulled up Saerus’ eyelids, but he was still unresponsive. He lifted the nightshirt Saerus was wearing and gasped in horror.
Teeth were forming and poking through the skin by Saerus’ nipple. He could make out an indentation surrounding the few teeth that could be a mouth. There seemed to be no discernible pattern as to where things seemed to come from. Teeth at the nipples, fingertips around the navel, the beginnings of an ass hole above that.
Kharisi knew he needed help, but had no idea who to go to and even more important: who to trust. The elf started to put his clothes on, deciding the only one he could reasonably expect to assist was the court mage Todrick. He had served the family since Saerus’ grandfather’s time and seemed to be as devoted to the royal family as Kharisi was. Kharisi shoved his feet into his boots and was about to use the secret entrance when he heard a moan coming from the bed.
He raced over and saw as Saerus slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus them. Kharisi sat next to him, holding the King’s hand, gently rubbing it with his thumb. “Saerus? Can you hear me?”
The King look at Kharisi with eyes that no longer seemed to be his own, and mouth curled into a twisted smile. “No, he can’t, but I can.” The voice was sick-making, a combination of flesh being split open and death. There was a gravelly sound, and it seemed to echo in the throat. The hairs on the back of Kharisi’s neck went up.
“Who are you?” Kharisi managed to ask.
“The rightful heir,” he said. A strong gust of foul wind blew through the open window and vanquished all the flames putting Kharisi and Saerus in the dark. A low growl of laughter and the scent of decayed meat issued forth from Saerus’ mouth. “Do not involve yourself in this elf, or you will die.”
“I pledged my life to protect Saerus,” he said, voice brimming in bravado and confidence.
“Do you think you can do more than drink and soil the sheets of brothels? You’re a coward at heart, the entirety of the castle knows that. You’re mocked and derided and yet you are too enamored with the reflection of the looking glass to say anything in your own defense. You’re weak, Kharisi.”
“I stand by my King and word,” Kharisi said, not quite as confident as he felt a moment ago.
“But not how you expect to.” Saerus sat bolt upright in bed, his left hand shooting out from his side and a bolt of white heat issuing from his hand. It struck Kharisi directly in the chest, enveloping and very close to stopping his heart from the sheer surge of electricity. He flew across the floor and barely managed to keep from splitting his head open. Kharisi hugged his back to the wall as he dragged himself upright, then took a few tentative steps towards the bed, and was able to see Saerus’ slumbering body laying on his back, a gentle snore issuing from his mouth.
“You will give your life to protect him if needed until the emerging is complete and I can take my rightful place, the voice said, now no longer issuing from Saerus but an inner voice in Kharisi’s head. He Looked at Saerus’ prone body and wondered which of them would end up having to die, and by whose hand. Kharisi laid down next to the only person who ever loved him and held him close as tears fell from his eyes for the first time in his life.
7: The Mourning After
Kharisi awoke before the sun had a chance to seep beneath his eyelids, not with nightmares beating the celestial orb to the punch. He only remembered bits and pieces but they were enough to awaken him at once. He turned over and saw Saerus, still sleeping with the same soft snore blowing through his almost too feminine lips. He reached over and stroked his hair, running the back of his fingers against a cheek that had outgrown its peach fuz
z quality not that long ago. The sensation though light, was enough to dislodge the sandman from Saerus’ eyes. They opened slowly as a drawbridge, and when they came into focus on Kharisi’s face, he gave a wide smile.
“Good morn,” he said with a thick tongue.
“How do you feel?” Kharisi asked,
Saerus started to sit up, then put a hand to his left temple, and winced in pain. “Headache.”
“It’s no wonder. After what happened, I’m surprised it’s just a headache.” Kharisi pulled up Saerus’ nightgown, brushing the dual erections with the bottom of his wrist and then pointed at the new teeth around his nipple. He was glad to see nothing else had popped up along with the teeth, and the concave area where a mouth seemed to be taking shape. Saerus looked at Kharisi with alarm. He lowered the clothing and pulled the new King close. “Do you not remember anything?”
“What? No? We came in, I laid down and fell asleep. Why?”
Kharisi looked away, hand slightly trembling and tried to put words together, that was truthful but wouldn’t hurt or worry Saerus. “You passed out-fell to the floor and when I picked you up and put you in bed, this... voice... came out of your mouth. All the candles went out, and you put your arm out, and lightning came from your fingers and struck me in the chest. Then you went to sleep.”
Kharisi pointed to a slight burn mark on his chest that had been left from the magic used against him. Saerus’ eyes widened, he put a hand to his mouth as tears began to spring from his eyes. He tried to speak but all he could manage were guttural sounds. He tentatively put out a hand and touched the darkened area on Kharisi’s chest. The small burn almost looked like a third nipple and was halfway between his actual nipples.
Saerus fingertip brushed across the darkened skin and felt that it was slightly raised from the rest of his skin. “Does it hurt?”
Kharisi shook his head.
Saerus grabbed Kharisi and hugged him close, tears spilling on the elf’s bare chest, and running down his stomach, and pooling in his navel. Kharisi held him back, kissed the top of his head but said nothing. After a few moments, he grabbed Saerus’ shoulders and pulled him away. “Look at me Saerus.” Saerus tried but continued to weep. Kharisi slapped him lightly but with enough force to make it sting and get his attention. “This is a problem, Saerus. What if that were to happen while you were in the Throne room? Suppose that voice or whatever the abomination was, started speaking through you to a diplomat?”
Saerus’ tears began to dry as he saw the gravity of Kharisi’s words fall before him. “You are right Kharisi, I cannot wear this crown while I have this thing in me. I hurt you. I could have even killed you and never known it.” At that thought, his lips began to quiver again.
“Pull yourself together!” Kharisi said his voice stern and unyielding. “Who else knows of this?”
“Just you. Not even my mother knew the full extent.”
Kharisi frowned and looked away. He stood, and began pacing, running a hand through his hair from time to time. Saerus watched him walk to and fro for before the pacing became too much to handle. “Kharisi! You’re making me dizzy!”
Kharisi stopped mid-stride and looked over at the bed. “We have to delay you from taking the throne at least until that damn dwarf gets back. We also have to have a talk with Todrick.”
“Why?”
Kharisi walked to the side of the bed and sat down. He took Saerus’ hands in his and held them, stroking them a bit with his thumb. “Is he trustworthy? Would your mother place your life in his hands if the need arose?”
“Of course, he’s been with our family for generations.”
“Then he needs to know.” Kharisi expected a fight regarding this but was relieved to see that Saerus understood the need.
“I understand. We will talk with him after breakfast.” Saerus sighed and buried his face in a pillow. He let out a muffled scream of frustration and smacked the mattress with clenched fists. Kharisi moved out of the way so as not to get hit and let the new ruler get his feelings out. As his tantrum weakened, Kharisi touched his shoulder to get his attention.
“Time to make preparations, Saerus, the sun is starting to peak in the window.” He took the clothing he’d worn last night and started dressing when Saerus interrupted.
“You cannot wear the same clothes as you did last morrow. Look in the wardrobe, there should be things to fit you, and that are more appropriate than mourning clothes. Besides, your manhood is very distracting in those, and I won’t be able to resist it at the table.”
Kharisi bit his lip and struggled to say nothing. He went to the wardrobe that was near the entrance and threw the doors open. He looked at the piles of shirts and leggings, held things up to see how they would fit and at last settled on a somewhat matching green tunic and pants. He dressed in silence and walked to the other side of the room to put on his shoes. Saerus, on the other hand, was still in bed wrapped up in the blankets.
“As you’re getting dressed, I’ll speak with Todrick and meet you in the Dining Hall. I hate to leave you Saerus, I worry about your condition.”
He gave a weak smile. “I’ll be fine,” he said, though neither of them actually believed that. Kharisi went to Saerus, and in an uncharacteristic moment of tenderness, kissed Saerus’ lips. “Don’t be long,” he whispered. “This will be a day that stretches from sun up to sundown, and then some perhaps.”
Kharisi went to the door, gave a quick wave and slipped into the corridor. Saerus stared at the closed door for a moment, sighed, and reached beneath the bed for the chamber pot. As both organs eliminated into the container, Saerus watched the urine pool and splash on the sides, his mind a blank for the first time in many days. He shook the last few drips from both and placed the half-full pot back under his bed for the chambermaid to empty later. Saerus stood on legs that were a bit weak and fumbled in the wardrobe for something presentable. In a small drawer underneath the shirts, he took out a pair of the special undergarments his mother had made for him and slipped them on. He dressed quickly, thinking about what Kharisi had said and realized he was as scared to be alone as he was to be around people whom he might hurt. The idea of informing Todrick wasn’t thrilling, but he saw no way to avoid it. Kharisi’s judgment was correct. After putting on his slippers, he left his room and wandered down the stairwell, through the door into the throne room and across to the other side where there was another doorway which led to the dining area, as well as the helps quarters and the dungeons.
There was a low murmur of worker noises as he stepped into the dining hall and he smelled aromas of various meats, cheeses, and honey wafting through the air. He stood by his chair, and those that were dining with him, stood, bowed and waited to sit until after Saerus was seated. His cup was already filled with a strong tea mixed with a pungent honey. It was perhaps one of his favorite drinks and the one reason he never missed breakfast. Derived from an old family recipe, the taste brought him thoughts of simpler, and perhaps happier times. Kharisi sat to his left, and the right was empty as Petram was not at the castle. When the Queen was alive, she kept the meal lively with light banter and her musical laughter brought everyone a smile. Saerus realized he was not the Queen, had no quantifiable laugh to uplift others, and was never quite good at small talk. Though he was King, there were many things he would grow into.
“Do not mind me, please feel free to talk amongst yourselves. The events of the past few days have made me more contemplative.” Everyone looked at him for a moment, and slowly talk began to spread almost plague-like, then some chuckling followed by several laughing. It made Saerus feel good they felt able to do this, which made his breakfast all the more delicious.
As Saerus finished his eggs, Todrick came into the room, cowl down, and his bald head on view for everybody to see. In spite of his age, he looked preternaturally youthful, though his walk had slowed recently. He sat in Petram’s accustomed spot and grabbed a chunk of buttered bread.
“I was asked to come see you, Your
Majesty.”
Saerus nodded. “Yes, I need to speak with you Todrick, meet Kharisi and me in your quarters.”
“My quarters? Not my laboratory?”
“No, in your quarters Todrick. We’ll be there in a few moments. Kharisi apparently hasn’t had enough sausage.”
Kharisi looked at Saerus, glared at him and saw the King grab himself between the legs when no one was looking. “He needs a double helping to get his day started.”
Todrick ignored the double meanings and stood. “As you wish. I will await you there.” The court mage left, and Saerus drained the last of his tea. Kharisi was, in fact, eating his second sausage, and popped nearly half of it in his mouth, forcing him to chew with his mouth open a bit.
“Your mother taught you no manners apparently,” Saerus said.
“Whores generally have none, other than not to spit semen where you may step in it.”
Saerus laughed and pushed his plate away. He watched Kharisi finish the last of his meal and then was slightly amazed at the loud, extended belch.
“Amazing you’re not a dwarf given that sound,” Saerus teased.
Kharisi feigned offense but smiled in spite of himself. Saerus stood, and when everyone else did, he motioned for them to sit. Kharisi led him out of the dining hall, down a long corridor lined with torches, and down a stairwell. Their footsteps echoed off the cobbled stone, and guards stationed around the castle bowed their heads as they approached. After branching off to the left, the duo walked past several closed doors and stopped at the entrance to the mage's tower. Todrick’s quarters were on top and his lab on the bottom. Kharisi walked up the spiral steps and waited for Saerus before knocking.
Errors of the Flesh Page 5