WandWpart13

There is another look at the Bad Guy, toward the end. Dammit, I keep forgetting about him because it's much more fun to just have the Wizard and Warrior boink each other senseless. If I ever put this into a decent format I will actually weave the plot together better. Promise 8-)

No, no, no, Carse. Not so fast. Not so dark, here. Kids watching. Gods knows I want to play, too, but what will Jalin think of this? Of us, playing rough, biting and clawing like animals? I cast a quick glance at the boy; for whatever reason, the booze or the sex or both, he looked to be out like a light. Sprawled on his back, limbs all at awkward, endearing angles. And - oh, my. Drooling a bit. I felt a tiny bit proud of myself for, uh, zonking him so thoroughly.

I couldn't necessarily get away from Carson; didn't even try. He was stronger, faster, way meaner. Even though I'd managed to turn around so he wasn't gripping me by the butt, he'd pretty much transferred "butt-hold" to ""dick-hold". I guess it's believable that I would prefer to keep BOTH intact? Okay, then. I looked into those hot blue eyes and smiled.

"Tell me first, why you did this?" I asked him softly, indicating the boy with a movement of my head. "Not just to please me, I trust?"

"I - after I left you, in the arena - thoughts came upon me. Things I had seen and ignored. A boy being ridiculed punished - for being different. As I once was. Something you would have noticed at once, and put a stop to, whatever your position, or lack of it." He drew a soft, quick breath. "I have not been a good leader to these people, my love. I - before you returned - I thought of only two things." He had turned away from me now, and his voice seemed gentle yet bitter. "Fucking, and fighting. That has been the yardstick of my existence. I have accomplished nothing in this place."

"BEFORE I appeared, you say. I'm so flattered." I was teasing him softly here; the hurt, the self-disgust in him was real enough to hurt me too. "So those two things aren't major on your agenda, now? That's a shame in one case at least." I waited, but he didn't offer anything else. Would make me ask. "So. What's important now then, Carse?"

He met my eyes this time, and the fingers that had grabbed me mercilessly by the cock now brushed my face as lightly as a breeze. "One thing? To make you proud of me," he said quietly.

We stood there for a moment, frozen in each other's space. Not touching, not needing to. I couldn't have felt him more if he'd been inside me.

"You are going to ask me to be gentle with the boy. And I tell you now I will not." The quiet voice, nearly a whisper, made his words even harsher. "I love you beyond all reason, Hawk. Beyond even madness, I think. But one thing I will not do is break my pride upon you for the sake of one I barely know. I bring the boy into my circle, perhaps I desire him; let that be enough. You are the one for adopting stray kittens and treating them human. When I do this - the kitten will learn who is master."

And I knew in this he wouldn't bend, not even for me. There were parts of Carson I still didn't know, dark and deep, beyond all light and reason. All people have these uncharted depths, I think, but in his case I felt no desire to explore too deeply. No wish to push and see how far I could go. I knew I had used quite a bit of leeway already.

His eyes narrowed, mimicking azure flame. His gaze so hot it knifed through the darkness to scorch me. He stayed silent, but his hand rose and touched the back of my neck, very lightly. So lightly it was barely there.

The touch on my neck hardly increased, and yet suddenly it was more real than my heartbeat. More - there. "Do you believe you need such a lesson?" he breathed in a voice as dark as a moonless night. As restless, as dangerous as such a night, before an earthquake or a dry lightning storm.

Ozone and magic in the air. The stars huge in the dead-black night, fire crystals of a thousand colors, and none. I could feel them, taste them. Even though we were inside the tent, the smaller area of space making the intimacy almost crushing, I still could feel the stars of this world. And the moons, the silver brightness of Heimdall's Shield, caught in the huge azure horns of the blue moon they called Odin's Scythe.

I found his other hand, and pulled it to where I wanted, needed it to be. "Do it. Show me." I drew a breath that almost seemed to hurt. "Make me."

His breath seemed to stop for just an instant. His hand moved, cupped the back of my head firmly. His other hand - oh, god. I'd taught him well. "You want this?" he said. I think he said. His voice was so soft it might as well have been in my mind.

His answer was to take my mouth with his, but in a different way. A way that happened only once in a while, only with both our consent. I think I made a small noise as his teeth sheared through my lower lip. I know he made a noise of some kind, a sort of groaning purr, as he tasted the blood and feasted on it, licked, sucked just a little.

My hands were wandering now, searching for the fastenings of that miserable leather suit. He pulled away to laugh at me; I cursed him, drove back to his mouth, bit him in kind. A low blow, since my lip had already healed and he couldn't do that for himself.

He laughed again, darkly, exultant. "Submission is not a concept that you understand easily, my hawk of flame." He didn't seem angered by it though. Not in the least. That other hand of his, gentle and ruthless, was between my thighs, cupping my balls, driving me nuts.

"I'm likely to get the concept much easier if you lose some fucking - clothes!" I panted, exasperated by my futile efforts to even find an opening in this damned suit of his.

Ah, shit. I guess our voices had gone up in volume, as that dark excitement between us grew. I risked a glance at Jalin; he had drawn himself up slightly, propped on his elbows. His eyes were like shimmering coins in the firelight as he stared at us. Like the way a cat's eyes sometimes look, when the light hits them right and the animal you've cuddled in your lap, fed and teased and felt superior to, suddenly seems to become a creature out of legend, strange and dark and alien. I couldn't read his expression, or even if he had one. Whatever it was, the sight of the blood on my face didn't seem to change it in the slightest.

Then I looked at Carson and - woah. If I hadn't known him as I did, I think I would've been very nervous. He was staring back at Jalin, and he looked insane. A vampire interrupted in a feeding frenzy; a serial killer. Someone who could skin you alive and use that skin to fashion lampshades and fencing gloves.

His expression would've been frightening even on someone NOT seven foot tall, or a warrior king all dark and feral in ebony and cobalt leather. Christ, a look like that could've scared my ass if fucking Rodney Dangerfield was wearing it.

His voice, though, was soft and civilized. Polite. "So, child. If you wish to play, you are welcome. If you wish to hide - out of my bed, and give us room."

Jalin stared back at him, a bit of nervousness in his look now. But his eyes were dragon eyes. Chilly and pale and proud. "Warchief." His voice was every bit as formal and polite as Carson's. What the fuck was going on here?

"My Lord Wizard is not tribal. He is less a fool than anyone I have known, but he doesn't understand what you have given me. The value of it. I ask you forgive him."

I stared at both of them, alarmed and exasperated. Carson's attention had pulled from me totally to fix on Jalin. Yet I would not have cared for that emotionless regard to be bent on me. And who was Jalin, to ask Carse to forgive me for anything? What the hell was goin' on here?

Very slowly, Jalin sat up on the bed. Drew himself into a cross-legged position that given his total nakedness was kind of brave. Even noble. Like he was ignoring the fact that he was so vulnerable here. "I know the price," he said quietly. "I pay it gladly." A small smile quirked his lips, then. "I would pay it if it was only to protect my wizard, but it is not just that."

"That I want you," Jalin said clearly. And then I'll be damned if he didn't turn himself and be kneeling on that velvet-covered bed, presenting himself for fucking as calmly as if he and Carson were both animals who had decided exactly who the Alpha Male was and had no problem with the decision in the least.

Being me, I opened my mouth to protest even knowing it would be a bad idea. Carson's gaze shifted to my face instantly, as if he knew perfectly well what my reaction would be. I studied the warning in those icy eyes and shut my face for once in my life. But I couldn't totally stay out of trouble. "Well, fuck," I heard myself say disgustedly. "I guess at least you'll be shedding those mothering leathers now, won't you?"

He stared at me; shit, even Jalin turned his head over his shoulder to stare at me. But where Jalin looked stricken, as if I were a fool sticking his head right in the lion's mouth, Carson actually smiled a bit.

"Be silent, fool," he told me, but it was in the same voice he might have used to say, "You are my Chosen." I remembered him telling me how he'd missed the way I talked to him. But I thought this time I might have gone just far enough; the cruelty of his expression had softened somewhat with amusement. Now he looked like a serial killer having a pleasant day. I decided that was good enough for me.

After watching me for a few seconds almost politely, as if urging me to say anything further, Carson turned to speak to Jalin. "You seem to know your place," he said calmly. "But I have seen bitch wolves with more subtlety. Get up."

I saw Jalin flinch, and my mouth popped open again. Then shut. Let Carson do what he needed to do. It was absolutely true that I understood none of this proving who's master crap, but it somehow seemed important, as something that needed to be worked out between the two of them. I had a feeling even Jalin wouldn't welcome my interference in this ritual. Like it or not, I was an outsider here. And I suspected any protest I made at this point would just get the boy in deeper shit.

Jalin pulled out of his submissive position with far more grace than I could've managed in the same situation. He stood before Carson - good God, he looked like a ten-year-old in comparison, his head tilted back so far to make eye contact that the long white back hair was brushing his ass. Face schooled to blankness but eyes giving away a hint of fear. Jesus, was it possible that *I* looked that young and helpless next to my lover? Like a child in his arms? I'd never really thought of it that way before. Our spirits were so equal, I never really thought that hard about the physical differences in terms of how silly I might look. I was gonna have to beef up, dammit!

"You are part of my circle now, Mor'gwaine." Despite my expectations - certainly despite Jalin's - Carson's voice was almost kind. His gaze was steel, though. "You carry the honor of my position; although as yet it has not been formalized with any loud, droning ceremonies, it is so. Do you understand me?"

"Understand this, then. First - " Carson threw a glance at me, and for some reason it reminded me of what he had said about wanting me to be proud of him. I swear, his eyes were suddenly as young as Jalin's.

"First," he said quietly, returning his attention to the boy, "My name in this tent is Carson. Or Na'jah, if the strange tongue disturbs you. Make no doubt, you will call me Lord outside this space. But you will not be required to grovel within it. Lovers who crawl on their bellies displease me."

Jalin was now staring at Carson with his mouth hanging open. I pretty much think I was, too. Never in a million years had I expected this. Proud of him? Ah, hell yes.

"Yes, Lord - Na'jah. Carson?" He stuttered on the first name, questioned the second shyly with his tone of voice. Like someone had handed him a jewel that he was afraid of breaking. "I understand - or maybe," he admitted in a burst of candor, "maybe I don't QUITE understand. But I will do as you wish."

Carson actually smiled down at him. "This is almost as good. Then. Outside this place, you will behave as one of my family; that is, with pride. And should any try to insult you, in any way, by speech or action, you will tell me at once, so I or the Hawk may deal with it. You will beyond all NOT keep it to yourself in some mistaken notion that by pride I mean enduring in silence, for I will find out and I will be most displeased. But with you, not your tormentor. Do you understand this?"

Jalin shifted. For a minute his face seemed stubborn, and I got the feeling that he would insist that of course, he'd never been bullied at all. Or that if he was, he could handle it. Then he sighed, and tossed back the long pale hair with an impatient gesture I was beginning to recognize. "I would rather fight my own battles. But it is true I am incapable of it. So, yes. I will - I understand, Na'jah."

"Good. And you will not always be incapable." To my surprise, Carson tossed me one of those teasing glances that always warmed me to my bones. "Will he, Hawk?"

I swear, he looked at me and his eyes just glowed in anticipation. There's not a kid alive who doesn't like to play with guns. "That doesn't mean I want you torching everybody's ass just for the fun of it, mind," I said hastily. He grinned at me, then sobered quickly as he realized Carson was probably not done with him yet.

Carson was not. "There are other things that will be required of you, that will come to my mind at a later time. And three things you will keep in the forefront of your mind, Iceflame. When I speak, you will listen. When you speak, you will say the truth. And when I ask, you will obey if it is in your power. If it is not, you will have a reason for it. Understood?"

"Understood - my brother Na'jah," Jalin nodded, with a quick, shy glance upwards to see if this address was permissible. It was like he was trying to categorize his new relationship to Carson, in that cool and logical mind of his.

"Jawohl, Mein Kommandant!" I muttered. I mean, I was approving of all this in an abstract way. It was not Carson smacking the boy around to prove his authority, as I had somewhat feared. It even made a kind of sense, getting the ground rules straight, but it was going on too long for my dick's liking. Goddammit, I had thought I was gonna get laid or something here!

Carson's eyes flicked to my face, the warning in his own eyes softening as he no doubt read my expression perfectly. "Iceflame," he said lightly, although keeping his dark, slightly dancing look on me. "You said you wanted me. Was that a true thing, or something to please one you fear?"

Jalin looked taken aback. "I - I am still afraid of you, a little. It is hard - not to be." His voice firmed. "But you are the Hawk's beloved. I will learn to love you too, I think. As for wanting - " He looked Carson up and down, a raking look that quite frankly undressed and accessed the results. "Again, there is some fear. But you are magnificent. Anyone would WANT you. Unless they were stupid, or gelded," he added helpfully.

"Then will you be so kind as to help me off with these?" Carson's voice was a strange one, polite and seductive together. Nearly flirting. "It does seem beyond my Hawk's capabilities, dearly though he wishes it."

Carson held up a hand, laughing. "Avert your spells; I will need these clothes in future, not a pile of leather strips. And, Iceflame?" His voice was serious now, and he turned to Jalin and finally touched him, cupping that wide-eyed face in a light caress. "Make sure that you do indeed want me, child. Because I do not reject your payment. I honor it as a gift in turn. If you wish it - I will take you now." A thought seemed to touch him, and he gave me a searching look. "And if my Beloved allows."

I shrugged, secretly delighted. And maybe just a little scared myself. Jalin seemed such a fragile kid, and Carson, well, Carson was fucking huge. In more ways than one. But it was a hot idea. Hell, my dick was liking the thought just fine. "Uh. Sure. I have no problem with that. So, um, do I help? Or do I watch?"

Carson's eyes glittered. "Don't be foolish. You help." And then he turned to Jalin with a question in his eyes, that was answered pretty quickly when the kid embraced him fiercely, as far up as he could reach.

Carson bent down to him, still cupping his face, and kissed him deeply, throat working as he sucked on the boy's tongue. A gesture that seemed to be returned and then some; Jalin was panting when he was finally released. Damn, Carse hadn't even cleaned my blood off his lips, and now some was smeared on Jalin's face. It was sick and disgusting and erotic as hell.

His tears, all over my thighs. He was seven earrings away from being a virgin, but if he'd ever encountered anyone as endowed as Carson it would've surprised the hell out of me. It had been a bit of a tight fit, definitely painful. At first.

One of Carson's hands was twined in mine, gripping so hard I felt lucky I had automatic healing. If I thought about him breaking my bones. If I could've thought of anything beyond the sight of him, eyes closed, face rapt as he slowly and gently, despite all his speech about kittens learning their place, pushed his heavy swollen cock deeper into Jalin's slim body.

He was more than halfway there. I couldn't believe the kid could take it. Couldn't believe the feelings that were coursing through from him to me. I wouldn't let Carson know this. That since fighting the Wolf, me and Jalin could share thoughts and feelings, in a rudimentary way, just because we were both wizards.

Carson was not jealous of sex; he was learning not to be jealous of me caring for others, as long as he was Number One. But this sharing of thoughts, emotion, pain and pleasure - that might upset him.

Even if he knew how damn complimentary it was to him. How Jalin was not only beginning to shiver with physical pleasure, but how he - damn. Was getting off on Carson's strength, his physical power. Crude strange images were pouring through my head, weird delights through my body, gloating almost, thrilled, enraptured. Never been so filled, so possessed before. He is more than magnificent, he is, oh, gods! I am his vessel, his thing, and I love it, take me, use me, oh, yes!

My other hand, softly stroking on Jalin's back, was becoming unnecessary. He was beginning to push back into Carson's thrusts, and I watched the rest of Carson's length force into him, fill him, pull forth a cry of surprise and delight from him again, and again, and yet again. While Carson just gasped once at the full impalement, then seemed to go berserk, pumping suddenly hard and urgent, all gentleness forgotten as he groaned aloud with the pleasure of taking that tight and willing body.

Jalin had looked a little stunned when Carse had released him from that first kiss. Despite my own impatience, I had to grin; damnright my boy could kiss. Why not? He'd learned from the best. He could put you into cardiac arrest with nothing but that mouth and some time on his hands.

And then was when I felt our minds - mine and Jalin's - click together again. The urgent desire in both of us to get Carson out of those leathers and into bed; except now, suddenly, I knew how to do it. Not laces; for the ceremonial leathers, which needed to fit tighter on the body almost like motorcycle racing gear, they had a clever, concealed arrangement of ivory hooks. A holy shitload of them, though. Would definitely take all three of us to get him loose, if we could even manage it before we all exploded.

As Carson was working on the top half, and I and Jalin tackled the leggings and boots, I hissed up at him. "Compromise? On the not touching thing? You be sure, goddammit, because if you suddenly apologize and back off from me I am going to fucking KILL you. Maybe Jalin, too."

He'd laughed, a little crazily. "You are worried? Oh, I could take you both for a week without pause, I swear it - no. It is understood, that we are truly Bonded, foolish one. Even the Witchlady agreed, and it was determined, the Waiting for us could be halved. Either only a seven-day, or - "

"It's gonna kill you." My fingers were staggering, impatient on those damn hooks. "The way you like to sleep in, how you gonna avoid messing up in the morning?"

Jalin just stared for an instant, lust and amazement and a kind of mild terror on his face, and then Carson was pulling him into the bed, into another kiss, just after his blazing eyes caught me as certainly as his hands could have, willing me to follow them be with them, share with them.

And now we were, oh we WERE. Just watching them joining might have been enough, I couldn't believe how arousing it was, once I was sure Jalin's initial pain had turned to pleasure. And the feelings he was feeding back to me; good god, possessed, dominated, on fire. Yet knowing that power that comes from having the so-called possessor writhing helplessly with sheer pleasure.

I watched him come, into Jalin. Watched that glorious body stiffen and shudder, his face going through a dozen expressions before settling into blank rapture.

Jalin, turning his head. Not even aggressive, just sort of letting my dick slide into his mouth and then he was shaking with it, pouring it into me, his feelings as he came. As I definitely poured it into him, hard and fast and mindless.

He arose earlier than was usual for him, hoping to be dressed and away before Merron awoke. Yes, he had finally remembered the boy's true name in the restless churn of sleep and waking before the humid morning heat filled the room. But the slave was up, dressed, and as always had his bath cool and ready. Merron had even somehow found the courage to slip down to the kitchen and bully the first honey cakes from the cook, whom even the Lady's guards feared. And strangest of all, the boy was singing, in a strange and haunting language. Humming and singing, as he went about setting the table, unaware of Asher studying him from under half-closed lids.

HE had never been happy. Not from the age of seven, when the darkangel stole him from his home. He barely remembered that home now, but enough to know that what the lady told him was a lie. She spoke of poverty and cruel parents. But that she told everyone stolen young enough to believe it, to earn their gratitude, of course. What he remembered was a modest but comfortable home; not noble, true, perhaps a comfortably well-off crafter or merchant. And a smiling man who carved toys for him. An older brother? He wasn't sure. What place in the world he'd been taken from, whether this continent or somewhere across the sea, he could not even imagine.

Oh, he supposed he should be grateful he hadn't been taken for a sex slave as this one had, though he had been pretty enough. Prettier than Merron even now, at the age of nearly six and twenty. No, he had been taken for the magic in him, to train and use it. And they had been careful of him until he learned the dark spells and the illusion magic well.

Only the lady had abused him. And he supposed it could not be called abuse, since it started in his eighteenth year and by then he had wanted it desperately.

He sat up abruptly, furious that these stupid memories had somehow managed to slip back through the carefully constructed barriers of his brain. "Merron!" he said sharply. "Stop that howling at once!"

"I - " He pulled out the amulet he had prepared days ago. Not knowing why, really. Now, he almost knew why. This boy meant something to him. How the hell did people do this? How the hell could they, when it hurt so much?

"Master." How could the boy say the same word three times in as many minutes, and have it mean something different every time? And this time what it meant would destroy him if he listened. Something beyond soft, better than warm. "I would rather go with you."

He would find the damned Nightwolf, and pull his soul from him. Give it to the Lady, and keep the husk that remained for his own pleasure. To hell with trying to become the bastard's so-called Wizard! A tale for fools and children. A tale only an idiot would believe.

Wizard? Warrior? It made no difference in the end what you were, who you were, how you were. There were the strong, and the weak. Winner and loser.