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About Yeoldebard

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    Bisexual, leaning male
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    My interests are reading, writing, the violin, and video games.

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  1. Sandolin stretched out with a yawn, shaking the dew out of his fur. Being a werewolf had its perks. He could curl up at night in wolf form and not need a blanket. It made the horse skittish when he did, but he always tied his mount securely, preventing the horse from fleeing. The wolf shifted into his human form and dressed quickly in his armour. Saddling the horse, he mounted in the dark and set off, hoping to reach the Meras River that day. He was three days from Danuva’s home, and he had made good time. Now that he had a destination in mind and was not merely following Paelius at a distance, he figured the journey to Mydara would take only half a month mounted. Then he would be off to Ceos to meet with the others. As the sun rose on the world around him, Sandor found himself in a forest, the road to Mydara narrowing until it was barely wide enough for a single person. The elf rode along the road, focusing on keeping on the packed dirt. Something slammed into his chest, almost knocking him off the horse. Looking down, Sandor found an arrow sticking out of his armour. “Stop where you are,” someone called. A human stepped out of the trees around the elf, another arrow nocked to the bow in his hands. He was dressed in rags, a green forester’s cloak on his back, stained with blood. Sandor pulled on the reins and his horse stopped. “Remove your armour, your sword, and your purse and you will be free to go about your way,” the man said. Sandor dismounted, keeping the horse between himself and the highwayman. He drew his sword and another arrow sailed past him, from his left. “Fuck,” he muttered. His chest was sore from the force of the arrow, but he couldn’t feel the tip. The plate had done its job well, but it didn’t protect his sides and he had no helm. Sighing, the elf sheathed his sword again and walked out of the cover of his horse. He placed the sword on the ground and began the process of removing his breastplate. Setting the metal aside, he began removing the clothing beneath, and the robber said, “You may keep your clothes.” Sandor ignored him, shedding his pants quickly. This move would probably cause his horse to bolt, but he needed his armour. It had cost nearly all his money to replace the armour he had lost in Astara. The plate may not fit well, but it protected him well enough. Taking a step toward the highwayman, Sandor let out a growl, tapping into the bloodthirst of his wolf. Leaping forward, the werewolf shifted, knocking the man over. His teeth tore through the man’s throat and he immediately whirled around, dodging another arrow. Sniffing the air, he caught the scent of fear and urine. Following the scents was child’s play, and he found the other archer, quickly dispatching the man. Howling his victory, Sandor tracked down his horse, who had bolted off the road. Shifting back into his elf form, Sandor walked toward the horse slowly and took the reins up again. Leading him back to the road, the elf dressed, claiming the coin from the robbers as well as the green cloak. After a moment’s thought, he took the bows as well, unstringing them before tying them to the saddle of his mount. With a sigh, Sandor mounted again and continued on his way. Elias lay on the ground, his eyes tracking another blinking star in the early morning twilight. He had never seen a star blink so much, or move. The neko resolved to warn Danuva about it later. Such omens in the sky surely boded ill for their group. He heard the sound of wagon wheels and sat up. The elf and the woman were back early. The neko hurried back to the house to warn Danuva and Quarian. The werewolf was busy mending his clothes and Danuva was in the kitchen cooking. “Done stargazing already?” Danuva asked with a smile. “They’re back,” Elias said quietly. Danuva’s face clouded in confusion momentarily, then brightened as he realized what Elias was saying. “It sounds like we’ll need some water soon. Would you get some for us? A single bucket should work.” “I’ll go with you, keep you company,” Quarian added, setting his sewing aside. The two grabbed a bucket and left the house, the strange star all but lost from Elias’ mind. The cart slowed to a halt next to the house and Paelius helped Masia unharness the nag and put her to bed. They wouldn’t need the cart again for another day or two. The two worked much better around each other, each knowing where they stood. They were friends, close friends to be sure, but just friends. Paelius found himself relieved by the thought. He hadn’t wanted to marry Masia; his father had made the arrangement to better the realm. Having Masia as a friend didn’t necessarily ensure that her family would help the elves when in need, but Paelius didn’t mind. It was wrong to marry someone merely because it was beneficial. “Welcome back,” Danuva said, tearing Paelius from his thoughts as he stepped outside. “Breakfast is almost done. I sent Elias to fetch some water; he should be back soon.” “Shouldn’t you have gone with him? I don’t think he’ll be safe on his own,” Masia said. “My brother went with him.” “Ah, send a crazed sex addict to guard a cute neko. What could go wrong?” Masia snorted. “I don’t feel like debating this with you again. Suffice it to say Quarian is no more a sex addict than Paelius.” “Anyways!” Paelius said loudly, interrupting Masia’s retort. “It will take about three weeks to reach Ceos. I think we should start tomorrow so we can arrive before Sandolin.” “I will see if Quarian wants to go with us. If we are riding into battle, another wolf might turn the tide,” Danuva said. Paelius nodded. “We’ll likely be waiting for two days for Sandolin to arrive, but I can pay for our lodging,” he said, producing the bag of silver the elf had given him in thanks for finding her daughter. “Perfect. I should have enough salted meat left over from my winter supplies to see us there,” Danuva smiled. “We’ll pack tonight and head out tomorrow.” Quarian studied the neko, whistling as they walked. He was such a tiny thing and so nervous too. Every errant sound sent his tail straight out and his ears folded back. The werewolf took pity on him as they neared the water. “You can relax, you know. You’re away from Astara, there are two men who would kill to keep you safe and no one in their right mind would try to rob our house. There is nothing to be afraid of.” Quarian ruffled Elias’ hair affectionately. “Let’s get the water. Danuva should be almost done with breakfast.” They approached the creek and set the buckets in the water. Elias’ ears flicked back at the sound of a snapping twig, but he made a visible effort to relax. A sound like thunder erupted over them, and Quarian glanced up in surprise. The sky was clear; there was no sign of a storm anywhere nearby. “Okay…. Now we can worry,” he said quietly to the neko. The two backed away from the water, scanning their surroundings. Quarian heard a quiet growl. “There’s a wolf around here,” he warned the neko. “Go back to the house. Tell Danuva to lock up.” Watching Elias until he was out of sight, Quarian stripped and shifted, sniffing the air. He stalked up and down the creek, trying to find the wolf. Catching a strong garlicky scent, the werewolf dropped low and followed the smell. A sudden bright flash blinded him, and Quarian bit back a yelp as his eyes exploded in pain. A loud yelp cut through the air, and the werewolf followed the sound blindly. He ran into a soft body and snarled, his challenge answered by another. Trusting his nose, Quarian lunged, his teeth biting into the body. The other wolf screamed, trying to back away. Quarian wrenched back, tearing skin and flesh away from his foe. Howling in agony, the wolf tried once again to flee. Quarian darted in again, his jaws clamping around a leg. He felt the bone break in his mouth and released the wolf. This time he let his opponent limp away, focusing on shifting back to his human form. His eyes finally cleared, and he hurried back to the house, ignoring his nudity. “Danuva!” The werewolf pounded on the door to his home, dimly noting their wagon was back. The door opened and a woman stared at him in shock. “Who are you?” Quarian snarled. “Where is Danuva?” The woman stepped back, calling into the house, “Danuva, it looks like your brother couldn’t keep his clothes on after all!” Quarian growled. Danuva walked into view. “Quarian what the fuck are you doing?!” he snapped. “Where’s Elias?” Danuva blanched. “YOU LOST HIM? WHAT THE FUCK?!” “I sent him back here! There was a werewolf stalking our property! I sent him to warn you!” “He never showed up…”
  2. Yeoldebard

    Lovers' End

    The elf and the human walked into the inn, trusting the stable boy to see to their wagon. Masia made her way to the innkeeper, spotting a young elf waiting tables in the adjoining tavern. “I see you got another worker,” the human said, nodding at the elf. “I had to. Your friend stole my other slave.” Masia tensed at the term. “Unless my memory fails me, Danuva paid for Elias. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know he has been treated with the utmost respect. Regardless, I am in need of two rooms,” she said, slapping a silver on the counter. “Then you are out of luck. There is only a single room available for the night,” the man leered. “Fine. I’ll take the one.” Masia replaced the silver with five copper, ignoring the man’s scowl. Taking the key slammed down before her, she crossed the room to where Paelius sat, deep in thought. “Silver for your thoughts.” Paelius smirked, looking at the proffered coin. “I’m not sure silver would be the correct coin for me,” he chuckled. “I figured a copper would be too low for a prince,” Masia teased. “Some prince I am, a beastly exile,” the elf scoffed. “You will always be my prince,” Masia said firmly. “You still wish to be my wife after I admitted to sleeping with Sandolin?” Masia shook her head. “No. I can not be your wife. But Sandolin would make you a good husband.” She heard Paelius suck in a breath and quickly continued. “You and I both know neither of us wanted this marriage. My father pushed it on me, on us. After hearing what happened to you, Riardin convinced my father you would not be a suitable match for me, though until I read him, I didn’t realize he was after you himself. At the time, I had no idea why he would ask my father to call off a match that would better himself.” “Wait… After me himself?” Paelius demanded. Masia shuddered as the images she’d yanked from Riardin’s mind flashed back through hers. “He’s a strong werewolf, the leader of his so-called pack. There’s only three of them, but he’s looking to get more. Who better to pull to his side than the crown prince of the elves?” “He went about it a strange way,” Paelius muttered. The inn door was thrown open in that moment, and Masia glanced over as an elven woman came through the door. The elf made a beeline for them, kneeling in front of Paelius. “My Prince I need your help,” she begged. Paelius took the woman’s hand and helped her to her feet. “I am no prince of the elves,” he said quietly. “But tell me what you need help with, and I will do everything in my power to do it.” Danuva sat in a chair, Elias in front of him. The human was gently combing his fingers through the neko’s hair, both of them enjoying the sensation. Elias lowered his head slightly to the side, his eyes drooping. “You don’t like talking,” Danuva said quietly, twirling a strand of ebony hair around a finger. Elias shrugged, his quiet purr faltering. “I won’t force you to talk; I would never do anything to hurt you. But I hope you know you can tell me anything. You are a free man Elias, beholden only to yourself.” The neko remained silent, Danuva continuing to run his hand through his hair. His eyes continued drooping, and soon he curled up between the human’s feet and began snoring. Danuva smiled as he stood. Bending, he scooped the sleeping neko into his arms and carried him into the bedroom. Setting Elias onto the bed, he drew the covers over the neko, before climbing into bed beside him. Crawling under the covers, Danuva relaxed as he listened to Elias’ breathing. A wolf howled outside, and the man tensed for a moment. He had no protection here; Paelius had taken the silver sword with him. After a few minutes of silence, Danuva slowly relaxed again. Elias suddenly sat up and threw the covers back. “Elias? What’s wrong?” The neko retained his usual silence, padding quietly out of the room. Danuva followed the neko, hearing a light scratching at the front door. The man paused, listening closely. A scratch, followed by a quiet thump, and then two more scratches. He knew that pattern… Elias opened the door before Danuva could move, kneeling in front of a large black wolf. He put his arms around the wolf and held on tightly as the wolf huffed. Danuva crossed the room and his arms, staring at the wolf. The animal looked at Elias inquisitively, and the neko whispered something Danuva couldn’t hear. The wolf shook the neko’s grip and stalked toward Danuva, growling. He neared the human, and his tongue darted out, licking Danuva’s crotch. “What the fuck Quarian?” Danuva sighed, trying to wipe the excess slobber off his pants. He blinked as a gold coin fell out of the wolf’s mouth. The animal rippled and Quarian took its place, bare naked. “I thought I’d scare you a bit,” the werewolf grinned. Danuva scoffed. “Yes, because I don’t recognise my brother.” Stooping, Quarian picked up the coin. “I believe you lost this somewhere,” he smirked. “At your bidding.” Quarian shrugged, turning back to Elias. “Hey kitty,” he smiled, ruffling the neko’s hair. Elias purred loudly, trying to push his head further into the werewolf’s hands. “How do you two know each other?” Danuva asked. “I met him at the Astar river, getting a drink. He’s the first one to not run when he saw my wolf. That was, what, a week ago?” Elias nodded. “We met again the next day, before the moon, and I let him see me shift. I think I scared the crap out of you,” Quarian chuckled. The neko shook his head no vigorously. “We exchanged names, and that was that. The next morning I was captured by the slave traders, and you know the rest. But enough about me. Where’s your werewolf friend?” Paelius held a shirt in his hands, taking sniffs of it. He was on the hunt, the prey a missing girl. This was not the best form to track with, and he knew it. But he didn’t want to run through Astara in his wolf form. Masia trailed him silently, there to offer her support, but far enough back to keep from interrupting his tracking. A breeze whipped the air around the elf, ruining his already tenuous grasp on the smell of the girl. Paelius paused, taking a deep breath while he waited for the scent to return. And return it did, stronger than before, and laced with the sharp scent of fear. Paelius’ head spun, and he turned after the scent. Picking up his pace until he was running, the elf followed the scent, ignoring the people in his path. Wherever the girl was, she was in danger. Sprinting through the gates out of Astara, Paelius turned off the road, running toward the river he could smell a mile away. Masia ran behind him, a hand on the sword at her waist. They reached the river, and Paelius paused again, the scent of fear almost overpowering at this distance. “Head south along the river for a mile, and I’ll head north. Meet me at the city gates if you don’t find anything,” he said to Masia. Nodding curtly, the human turned south, leaving Paelius to his tracking. The elf sniffed the air as he walked, growling as the wind picked up again. A quiet sob broke the air, and the werewolf dropped into a crouch. He stalked toward the noise, spying a human form through the tall grass by the river. Drawing his sword silently, Paelius approached the man. He spotted a young elf under the half-naked man and growled again. The human spun around, tripping over his pants. He paled at the sight of the elf’s sword and tried to run. Paelius slashed at the man’s legs, cutting them open. He made sure the man couldn’t move and knelt next to the elf. “Hey. Your mother is looking for you,” he said quietly, helping the elf up. The young elf cried out at his touch and Paelius backed away. Kicking the fallen human, he rolled the man into the river, watching with satisfaction as the man thrashed around, drowning in the water. “Come on. Let’s take you back to your mother,” he said, turning back to the girl.
  3. Yeoldebard


    Well, he always did enjoy irony. Hopefully he enjoyed that last bit as well...
  4. Yeoldebard

    Lessons Learned

    The neko sat outside, staring at the sky. He had always been drawn to the stars. They painted such pretty pictures for him. He felt the man sit beside him silently. Neither spoke, both contemplating the bright dots in the sky. “You enjoy watching the stars,” Danuva said finally. Elias nodded. “Quarian was the same way. I wonder if he still looks up from time to time. Personally, I’ve never seen the draw. They’re nice, but I like to keep my thoughts where they are needed.” The neko let his master ramble on, shivering slightly in the late spring air. He thought he saw a star blink, but a second later the light was back, as solid as ever and he put it from his mind. “You’re cold. Let’s head inside. I’m sure the others want to get their sleep.” Standing, the neko followed the human inside, and they settled into the corner of the main room, Danuva draping a blanket over the both of them. Elias curled up on the floor beside Danuva, purring quietly as the human stroked his hair. He was a good master. The man hadn’t tried to have sex with him, he allowed the neko his own clothing, and he let him keep his necklace. For once, Elias was happy he had been bought. He wasn’t as comfortable around the elves. There was something wrong with them. He was pretty sure the one called Sandor was a werewolf. But the man that looked like Danuva had told him not to give a werewolf away unless he knew he had done something wrong. And besides, Danuva knew, didn’t he? He called the wolf Sandolin and the elf had the same name. The elves and the woman were heading back to the city tomorrow, to pick up supplies for their journey to the Elf lands. Danuva said he was staying here with Elias, and he was going to sleep in his own bed for once. An arm wrapped around him loosely, and the neko heard Danuva’s breath soften. The hand stroking his hair had fallen away, but the sound of Danuva’s quiet snoring lulled him to sleep. The morning was a rush of activity. Sandor moved around quickly, aiding Danuva in hooking the nag to the cart once more. He would be taking Masia’s stallion to the Elven lands, while his prince travelled to Astara to collect supplies for their own journey. The wagon attached to the mare, Sandor turned to saddle his mount. The stallion snorted, his ears flickering back. Sandor ignored him, setting the padding over the horse’s back. The stallion shook, sending the padding flying into the dirt. Sandor growled at the horse, and the stallion backed nervously, trodding on the padding. “Having some trouble?” came an amused laugh. The werewolf scowled, turning. Masia was watching him, leaning against the side of the stable in a very unladylike manner. “You scared the crap out of him yesterday. He’s not going to be comfortable around you for some time.” The woman approached them and stooped down, gathering the pad in her hands. She brushed off the dirt and place the pad back on the horse’s back. Stroking his neck, she whispered softly to him as Sandor set the saddle over his back. “See? Not all men need a show of force. And not all men appreciate jealousy.” Sandor growled at the human as she turned back to the house and the horse stamped nervously. He tightened the saddle with a huff and went to collect his supplies. Danuva loaded his chickens into the cart, ignoring their indignant clucking. He wouldn’t need their meat or eggs any more and in fact, the three silver Masia could make from selling them would serve the group much better in the months to come. Sandor trotted past, his horse tossing his head vigorously. Danuva bit back a chuckle. The wolf would have a hard time just controlling his mount on his trip. As the elf vanished over the horizon, Danuva finished loading the wagon. He headed back into his house to let Masia and Paelius know they could leave at any time. Elias was lying curled up in the corner and Danuva smiled at the snoring neko. Masia pulled the man aside as soon as she saw him. “I want to thank you for allowing so many strangers into your home,” she said quietly. “I know we can’t have been the best house guests.” “Aside from some increased shopping and having to more closely guard my virtue, it has been my pleasure,” Danuva smiled. Masia chuckled quietly. As Paelius walked past them with a nod to the woman, she shook Danuva’s hand. “I suppose we’ll see you in around three days,” she said. “I’m looking forward to it,” the man said diplomatically. His guests finally gone, Danuva sat in a chair and sighed heavily. He was at a loss for what to do. Normally he’d be out taking care of the animals but they were all gone now. He saw Elias’ ear twitch out of the corner of his eye, and he looked over as the neko yawned. “Good morning,” Danuva smiled. The corner of Elias’ mouth turned up slightly, even as he stared down to avoid meeting Danuva’s gaze. Danuva could smell the neko’s body, musky almost to the point of offending his nose. “I’m heading to a creek nearby to collect some water if you want to come with me,” the human said. Elias nodded, standing. Stretching, the neko followed Danuva from the house. A fifteen-minute walk found them standing beside the stream, Danuva lowering a large bucket in. He filled a second bucket, then turned away from Elias. Removing his clothes, the man stepped into the water, letting himself sink until his body was covered. Turning back to Elias, he called, “Feel free to join me.” With a slight frown, the neko disrobed. Danuva averted his eyes until he heard the water splashing as a body entered it. Elias stood next to him, close enough for Danuva to touch, but far enough that it was obvious he didn’t want to be touched. Danuva studied the neko he had bought, sighing internally. He was so nervous, so shy. It was endearing, but at the same time, Danuva found it slightly annoying. An idea popped into his head and Danuva grinned. He dipped his hand into the water and sent a wave at Elias, splashing the neko. Elias hissed in shock, nearly falling back. He stared at Danuva with wide eyes. Slowly, a grin appeared on the neko’s face, and he lowered his head. A wave splashed into Danuva, and the human laughed. He sent another wave at Elias, ducking under the surface of the water to avoid retribution. Ten minutes later, the two dragged themselves from the creek, collapsing on dry land with tired smiles. “You can loosen up around me, you know,” Danuva said, turning his head. His breath caught in his throat as he saw Elias completely for the first time. The neko was slender, lightly muscled. His hair was still tangled and Danuva resolved to brush it later. The rest of Elias’ body was hairless, giving him a youthful appearance that seemed almost too young. If he hadn’t been assured by Masia that the neko was twenty years old, he would avoid any interaction that would leave the two nude together. Interactions like this one. Almost as if he was reading Danuva’s mind, Elias turned bright red and grabbed his underwear. He pulled his clothes on, cutting off Danuva’s view. The neko bowed his head again and walked to the bucket of water, waiting for Danuva. The man sighed and dressed. Lifting the water, he led Elias back to his home. Paelius sat on a rock munching on a rabbit leg. They had been stopped for ten minutes now, and he knew they needed to get moving again soon if they wanted to reach the town that evening. Masia sat a short distance away, keeping her silence. The two had been rather awkward around each other since the woman had caught Paelius with Sandor. This trip might help them get over the tension between them. If Paelius could figure out what to say. He had tried before, tried to explain why he was outside fucking Sandor’s brains out. While Masia seemed to understand that, it still left a gulf between the two of them, one he was not happy about. Their arranged marriage had been a happy event to look forward to for all involved. It was something neither had wanted, but when Paelius took the time to travel out and meet his bride to be, they had both felt an attraction to each other. And now that attraction seemed to be gone for Masia. Standing, Paelius approached the human. “Remember the last time we actually had time alone?” he asked offhand. A smirk lifted Masia’s face. “It lasted, what, three minutes before Father found out?” she chuckled. “Heavens forbid two betrothed should enjoy each other’s company.” The human sighed, the smile falling from her face. “I’m sorry,” she said. “What? No, I’m the one who should be sorry. I haven’t kept myself-” “Prince Paelius, you have done what you can to protect not only your people but those around you. And I have raised issue with how you have done so. It is not my place.” “As the woman I was intended to marry, it is your place. I apologise for putting you in the position of having to correct my behaviour.” It amazed the elf how quickly they could go from joking about the past to speaking with a tone best suited for holding court. It was as though the two took comfort in the decorum of highborn speech when forced to admit their wrongs. “There would be no need to apologise if Riardin hadn’t tried to force you into his pack,” Masia said darkly. “Forgive me, but there would be. Sandolin and I were together even before Riardin… changed me.” Masia studied the prince. “Do you love him?” she asked after a moment. “Yes.” Paelius took a deep breath. “We… we should get moving,” he said. He helped Masia into the wagon and climbed up beside her. Snapping the reins, the two sat back, Danuva’s horse pulling them to Astara once more.
  5. Yeoldebard

    The Neko

    I wonder as well. My stories rarely seem to go as planned.
  6. Yeoldebard

    The Neko

    He fingered his money bag as his brother was bid on. There was only one way Danuva could afford to free Quarian, a gold coin the man had found when he was sixteen. It was their lucky coin, and Quarian had passed it to Danuva when he left home. His brother didn’t want him to use the coin on him though. He wanted it used on a neko. And there was only one neko in the city. Danuva fought back tears as his brother was bought by a large man, a blacksmith by the look of his clothes. Quarian found him in the crowd as he was led away and grinned. Danuva could have sworn he saw the werewolf’s fangs. Straightening his shoulders, Danuva made his way to a tailor. He had done what he came here to do, giving the slaves a tiny bit of comfort. An hour later, he carried a load of clothes from the shop. Locating his wagon, the man set the clothes within and covered them. Heading into the tavern, he located the neko serving a large armoured woman a beer. The man stopped the boy as he passed. “Elias?” he murmured. The neko’s eyes widened and he nodded. Danuva gently rubbed his hair and walked past. He found Masia sitting in the back corner of the tavern, a mug of ale in her hand. “You’ve taken a liking to him?” she asked as he sat across from her. Danuva shrugged. “He’s quiet. But he seems like a good kid.” “He’s twenty years old,” the woman said. “I’ve been asking around. Was he good?” She smirked at the man’s glare. “Come on, I know you sampled the goods.” “I didn’t touch him in that way. I let him get a decent night’s sleep.” “And now what? Will you return to pine over the property of someone else? Will you take him by force?” “What about you? Did you find what you came for?” The woman scowled. “No. But I found something that might help.” A man walked into the inn and began talking quietly to the innkeeper. A minute later he was heading upstairs. “Will you stay with us? I can’t guarantee your safety,” Danuva said, turning his attention back to Masia. “I know. I feel like Paelius will move on soon. He doesn’t like to inconvenience people.” Danuva laughed. “And you claim he’s a prince. So what, you’re going home?” “I have no home. My place is with Paelius, as unfortunate as that seems at the moment.” “You realize there’s a good chance you’ll-” “Yes, and it’s a chance I’m willing to take.” Danuva nodded, standing up. “I’ll be back,” he said. Walking back to the inn, he approached the innkeeper. “I need another two rooms for the night,” he said, handing a silver over. “Same rooms as yesterday okay?” The man nodded, looking around. “The neko is busy taking care of a customer,” the innkeeper smirked. “Did you want to hire him for the night again?” Danuva grimaced at the thought of what Elias was going through. “Actually I want to buy him from you.” The innkeeper laughed. “Trust me, you don’t have the money for him.” “And how much is that?” The man’s eyes narrowed, staring down Danuva. For his part, Danuva blinked freely, not interested in a contest. “Ninety silver,” the innkeeper smirked. Danuva sighed, pulling out a knife. The innkeeper took a step back, reaching for a cudgel. Danuva held out his travelling cloak and sliced into a spot with his knife. A gold coin fell from the slit and he caught it, sheathing his blade. “I assume this will suffice?” The innkeeper took the coin and bit it, testing the metal. Grunting, he nodded and fished out ten silver. Sliding the coins across the counter, he spoke. “The man upstairs paid for an hour. In fifty minutes, the boy is yours.” The neko lay quietly on the bed, grinding his teeth. His body hurt. His head hurt. Everything hurt. He heard the panting of the man, the quiet rustling of clothes being pulled on. The man slapped his ass one more time, before walking out the door. He slowly reached for his underpants and pulled them on, hissing at the cramping in his legs. Grabbing his pants, the neko froze as he heard someone approaching the door. Standing painfully, the neko bowed his head slightly, peeking up to see who was entering. “Hey,” the human at the door said gently. The neko remained silent as he had been taught. He could only assume the master had double booked him. It would have been nice to have a break between, but this man had been kind the night before. Maybe he’d be careful with how he took him. “Do you need help with your clothes?” Shaking his head no, the neko pulled his underpants away from his body, teasing at what laid below. “Not like that,” the man smiled thinly. The neko tensed. He had displeased the man and the master would punish him for it. “You won’t be forced to have sex ever again. Get dressed.” He looked up in shock, meeting the man’s green eyes before dropping his gaze back to the floor. “Elias…” That was his name. The name the werewolf gave him. Did he know the wolf? The man scratched his head, a pulse of warm energy travelling through him. The neko nearly moaned as he felt his muscles relax. The pain in his ass faded, as did the bruises on the back of his legs. “Why don’t you meet me downstairs after you dress?” The hand was removed from his head, and a small whimper escaped his mouth. He bit his lip as the man laughed. Then he was left alone. Elias dressed quickly, knowing if he made the man wait, his master would be upset. Walking downstairs, he marvelled at the lack of pain in his legs. The man who had been fucking him not ten minutes ago had been rather thorough with his beatings. The man, Danuva, was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. He smiled at Elias, and the neko shuffled his feet nervously. “I just bought you from the innkeeper,” Danuva said quietly. “You are free to go wherever you like, but I hope you choose to stay with me. Let’s get your things, if you have any.” He had a new master then? Elias puzzled through the information, even as his feet turned towards the storage closet he had been given as a sort of room. The neko could feel Danuva following him as he opened the door to the closet. Digging through his bedding, Elias pulled out a copper necklace and a small bag of coins. “Here, let me take those,” Danuva said quietly, holding out his hand. No. He wouldn’t give up his mother’s necklace. He shook his head violently. “You’ll get them back. I swear it.” Hesitantly the neko handed Danuva the coin pouch, watching closely as the man placed the money in a pocket within his cloak. The necklace he held tightly, refusing to give it up. Danuva didn’t press him. “Do you have another set of clothes?” Elias shook his head again. “Okay, Put your necklace on and we’ll go get you some clothes.” The neko slipped the jewelery around his neck, and the two of them left the closet behind them. Passing through the tavern, they were stopped by the innkeeper. “Those clothes belong to me,” the man said sharply, staring at the neko. Danuva groaned, a hand on Elias’ shoulder. “Is this really necessary?” he asked. “The boy came to me with nothing. He will leave with nothing.” Sighing, Danuva nodded to the neko, removing his cloak and holding it up to give the man some privacy. Elias removed his clothing, and Danuva wrapped the cloak around him. The neko clutched the garment tightly as he followed his owner from the tavern. They headed straight for the tailor, where Danuva bought several outfits for his new charge. Once he was dressed, Danuva took his cloak back and handed the man his coin bag. “These are your… ‘tips’ from your work?” Elias nodded. “They were hard earned,” Danuva said. “Keep saving them. If you need anything, just ask.” Elias pressed his head against Danuva’s side, earning him a soft scratch on the head. “Thank you,” he whispered. Sandolin could smell them approaching. He stood still, the hunt all but forgotten, as the scent of lavender dimly filled his nose. A quiet growl escaped him, and he bit it back. He would be glad when they were on the road, away from the man’s house. Running to the road, he could hear the rumble of wagon wheels thumping across the uneven dirt. As the riders came into sight, Sandor grinned and stepped into the road. A horse screamed and threw his rider. The horse driving the wagon just blinked as she came to a stop. “Good evening Sandor,” Danuva said tensely, his arm around a strange cat-like human. Masia threw a rock at the wolf, gripping her horse’s reins tightly. The rock bounced off his shoulder and Sandor growled. “Now Masia, I’m sure he didn’t mean to scare the horses, did you?” The wolf huffed, turning back to the house. Behind him, he heard the creak of wheels as the wagon continued its journey. “We’re leaving tomorrow.” Masia looked up from her chicken. Paelius continued cutting his meat, sticking a piece of bird in his mouth. “Where are you going?” the woman asked. “We will petition my father to allow me to take Te Hara pei Arudan.” “The fortress that is overrun with bandits, that has withstood seven assaults from your father? And the two of you are going to take it by yourselves?” Paelius nodded. “Where might has failed, subterfuge may work.” “I’m going with you.” “Absolutely not.” Masia smiled. “But Prince Paelius, isn’t poison a woman’s weapon? Haven’t many assassins been female? Clearly, a woman wields the advantage in subterfuge.” “And I will need to stay with you until I know if you turned me,” Danuva spoke up. The neko’s ears turned beside the man. Apparently, Danuva hadn’t told him what the man might be. “Then there will be five of us,” Masia concluded with a nod at the neko. “Hold on. Elias hasn’t agreed to go anywhere. And I’m not sure I want him to travel with us.” Danuva turned to the neko. “You’re a free man now. You can go wherever you want,” he said. Elias stared at the man. His lips moved, but Masia couldn’t hear what he said. “Are you sure?” Danuva asked. Elias nodded, and the man sighed. “Alright, five of us.”
  7. Yeoldebard


    He stood quietly to the side, head lowered respectfully. The man who purchased him for the evening closed the door with a sigh, and examined the room, ignoring the boy for a second. “You’re very quiet,” the man spoke finally. He didn’t answer, didn’t feel the need to answer. The man who took him made sure he knew his place and his place was silent obedience. The man shrugged and shed his clothes, sitting on the bed in his underpants. “My name’s Danuva, though I don’t suppose you care much,” he smiled thinly. Silence. Crossing the room, the boy knelt before the man, reaching for his underpants. “No, you don’t need to touch me. How long has it been since you’ve had a decent night’s sleep?” Years… He didn’t remember when he had last slept through the night. Danuva placed a hand on his back, and a warm glow pulsed through him. He felt good suddenly. The toe he stubbed earlier stopped throbbing, his eyes cleared up, and best of all, his ass was no longer sore. “Thank you,” he whispered. The man smiled again. “Get comfortable. I want you to sleep well tonight.” He removed his clothes, leaving on his underwear as Danuva had done. Sliding onto the bed, he watched the man warily, waiting for the touch he knew was coming. “Do you mind if I touch your ear? I’ve never seen a… a neko? Before,” the man said. He knew what he was. That was a first. Slowly, he nodded, and Danuva lightly ran a finger over his calico ears, the source of his shame, and his slavery. “Thank you,” the man smiled. “It’s really soft.” Danuva paces his arm gently around the neko, and slowly lowered both of them until they were laying in the bed. A hand brushed through his hair, and he purred quietly, surprised that the man would stroke him like that. He fought to stay awake as Danuva continued brushing through his hair, but he was exhausted. Slowly, his eyes drifted shut and he fell asleep. A knock at the door caused Paelius to sit up in bed. The elf pulled on his clothes with a grumble. Sandor sat up beside him, sniffing the air. “Fucking lavender,” he muttered, wrinkling his nose. “Deal with it,” Paelius said, grabbing the silver sword as the person outside knocked again. He passed into the main room of the house, closing the bedroom behind him. Stopping in front of the door, the elf took a deep breath. His nose picked up nothing but the smell of Danuva. Sighing, the elf opened the door. “Hello, I’m-” The man outside gasped at Paelius’ appearance. “You!” “It took you long enough to track me down, oh great and powerful hunter,” Paelius yawned. The man yanked out his sword, his cloak falling to the ground. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not destroy this place. The owner is rather friendly,” the elf continued, walking through the door. “That’s my sword you beast,” the hunter spluttered. “You seem to have replaced it.” Paelius parried a blow and stepped off the porch, slowly circling until they were on the dirt away from the building. The two traded blows again before Paelius backed off. “Not so good in a fair fight, are you?” he said. The hunter growled and lunged, nearly tripping over a rock. It was all Paelius needed. His blade slide home in the hunter’s throat and the human’s eyes widened in shock. He dropped to his knees, and Paelius kicked him off his sword, picking up the other blade that fell from the man’s dying hands. “Well he won’t be bothering us much anymore,” he yawned again. Wiping the man’s blood on his clothes, Paelius picked up the cloak and carried it inside. Sandor would have to use it until they found some other clothes for him. They would deal with the corpse in the morning. The city was quiet in the morning, waking up slowly from its rest. It made things easier for Masia. She slipped through the alleys, heading toward the temples. It was not her first time in Astara, though the previous time had been almost ten years ago. Nonetheless, the layout of the city was coming back to her now. A young boy slipped past her on a narrow road, and she felt her hip lighten. Whipping out a dagger, she cut along his pocket and caught her bag of coins as it fell through the torn fabric. With a smirk, the woman secured the bag again and continued her walk. Finally, Masia turned out of the alleys and onto the main roads. She stopped in front of the Temple of Life. It was as good a place to start as any. Stepping through the door, she stopped a young man. “Excuse me sir, but my friend is in need of healing. He is diseased.” “What is the nature of his disease?” “Lycanthropy.” “Has he shifted forms already?” the man asked. “Yes, unfortunately.” “Then there really isn’t anything we can do for him. If he bites you, we can give you some wolfsbane extract to counteract the disease. Other than that, you should stay away from him. Lumara be with you.” “Thank you.” Masia left the temple with a sigh. If the gods couldn’t help Paelius, was there any hope for a cure? She made her way back toward the inn as the city came to life around her. She spotted Danuva already haggling over the price of the chickens he had brought with him. A woman called out for fresh bread nearby, and a man’s voice nearly drowned her out, yelling about potions said to cure any malaise. The woman froze, her head turning toward the alchemist. Her brain told her it was a scam, that there was no way a potion could cure what the gods apparently couldn’t. But her feet still travelled in the direction of the voice. “And what can we do for you young lady,” the man outside the alchemist shop smiled, showing broken teeth. Masia combatted her urge to recoil from the stench of rotten eggs around the man. “I need a cure,” she said quietly, nodding toward the shop. The man stepped inside with surprising quickness, and with some trepidation, Masia followed, a hand on her dagger. “So, what kind of cure are you searching for? A broken heart? Something to cure your monthly ailments?” “Lycanthropy.” The man cocked his head, studying the woman. “You’re much too pretty for a wolf to have gotten his fangs in you.” “It’s for a friend.” The alchemist hummed thoughtfully. “The curse of the werewolf is a difficult one. A thousand years of prayer and alchemy, and no one has found a true cure yet, save for death.” Masia winced at the word. “However, my master, Zalon preserve his soul, created a potion that would allow one to fight outside influences. I don’t believe he ever used it on a werewolf, but it could work.” He turned and walked to the back of the store. The sound of clinking glass could be heard, and a minute later he returned with a sickly green concoction. “I have no guarantees this will work, but when the only alternative is death…” he shrugged. “How much?” Masia asked, studying the small vial. “Three silver.” The woman handed over the coins and accepted the glass. “He only needs one or two drops at the time of the full moon. Any more than that and he might die from the ingredients. It’s a subtle line between life and death, I’ve found.” Masia nodded, concealing the vial in her clothes. “Thank you sir,” she said with a smile. They picked a spot far behind the house. With only a single shovel, Sandor began digging first. “So you didn’t kill him last time?” he grunted, his muscles tensing as he tossed a shovelful of dirt. “Apparently not. I thought he was dead. I cut him up pretty bad.” “Maybe he had someone nearby who saved him?” “They didn’t save him this time,” Paelius shrugged, scanning the land around him. Sandor worked in silence for half an hour, before handing the shovel to Paelius. The elf took the shovel and dug out a final foot of dirt. Nodding to Sandor, he watched the elf head back to the small house. They couldn’t stay here. Danuva had been more than generous, taking care of them for the past several weeks. But Paelius was tired of sleeping on the floor between Danuva and Sandor. The tension between the two could be cut with a sword. Sandor returned with the body of the hunter and dumped him into the grave. Paelius began shovelling dirt onto the corpse. “We need to leave,” he said as he worked. “We’re targets at an innocent man’s home. Besides, I do not want to put Masia through any more stress than I have.” “Danuva isn’t innocent,” Sandor spat. “We slept together. I slept with him. It was not his fault Sandolin. Just as it isn’t your fault I’m not married to Masia.” Sandor grunted. “Where are we heading then?” “If Astara didn’t have the answers we seek, then it’s of no further use to us. I have to imagine the humans do not know how to cure this. We’ll try our own people.” “Will you return from exile then?” Sandor asked hopefully. “No. Not until the wolf in me is silenced. I have a plan. Te Hara pei Arudan.” “Overrun with bandits,” Sandor reminded him. “Yes, and my father has been repulsed every time he has tried to take it. However, if a band of werewolves were to clear the halls, then he’d be free a thorn in his side, and we would have a home.” He dumped the last bit of dirt over the grave and handed the shovel back to Sandolin. “I need you to ask my father for permission to reenter the realm.” Sandor nodded as they returned to the house. “If Danuva returns with some clothes for us, I’ll head out the morning after. I’ll try to return with some provisions to help out a little.” Danuva walked through the market, his feet making a path to the auction block. It was a journey he made every month, and he wearied of it, but it was a journey he must make. Men and women stood shackled together, not a scrap of clothing on them. Danuva’s heart ached for them, but he had learned long ago that he couldn’t save everyone. The man stepped into the viewing line, and as he began walking among the slaves, he placed a hand on each of them, pretending to examine them. His hand glowed briefly over each, and he often heard a gasp as he passed, or occasionally a whispered thank you. His steps faltered as he reached a man covered in dirt. Long black hair ran in tangles down his shoulders, and when he looked up, Danuva recoiled at the vibrant green eyes of his brother. “Hey. Long time no see,” Quarian smirked, his voice cracking. “You let them capture you?” Danuva breathed, his hand running over his brother’s face. “As if. I chose the wrong place to bed down for the night. You smell… different.” “I had a run in with some friends of yours.” “And good friends of yours apparently.” A whip cracked, and Quarian winced. He let out a quiet growl as a man stalked toward him. “You still have the coin?” he hissed quickly. Danuva nodded, scowling at the slave master. “There’s a neko, Elias. Take care of him.” “Silence!” the master snarled. Quarian smirked at Danuva, and the younger man chuckled bitterly. He placed one final touch on his brother, transferring some of his vigor to him, before moving along the line.
  8. I'd be ashamed if he didn't try his hardest
  9. Sandor lay between Danuva and Paelius, his leg in constant contact with the elf. This jealous feeling in him was strange. Paelius was his prince; he could lay with whoever he wanted. They had made no promises to each other. He was there for his prince, and if Paelius wanted to take another to bed, he should accept it, and be grateful the elf had given him what he had. They lay near the firepit in the kitchen, the warmth of the embers acting with the single bed linen to keep them warm. He was happy. Danuva was heading to Astara to sell a few of his chickens and Masia had agreed to go with him. They would be gone for at least two days, if not longer. Paelius, on the other hand, was not excited about Masia travelling without him. They had an argument about it over dinner, which the human had surprisingly won, with some help from Danuva. His dreams that night were of Paelius. Of running with the wolf, curling up with him at night. If this was just the werewolf in him trying to get out, he would let it. Sandor woke in wolf form, legs wrapped around the man he loved. He pressed closer to the body, taking a deep breath, inhaling his lover’s scent, the smell of lavender strong… The wolf jerked back with a growl, baring his teeth. Danuva rolled away, rising to his feet clumsily. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” the human apologised. Sandor snapped at the man, and Danuva swatted his nose. The wolf sat down in shock, glaring at the human. “Enough of that. I did nothing wrong,” Danuva grumbled. “You destroyed my last set of clothes, by the way. You’ll have to go nude until I get back from the city.” Sandor growled, turning away. He circled next to Paelius, who still slept fitfully. Curling up next to the elf, the wolf glared at Danuva, resting his snout on the elf’s chest. He felt his prince relax, and his eyes closed. Masia closed the bedroom door quietly. Taking a deep breath, she turned and saw the grey wolf curled up with her fiance- her former fiance. Danuva stood in the corner of the room, filling a sack with coins from a small chest hidden under a floorboard. “I saddled your horse. We need to leave early so we aren’t sleeping on the road,” he said without looking up. “Thank you,” the woman said quietly. “There’s some bread in your saddlebag. It should last you the day.” “Did you decide not to go?” Masia asked, startled. “I’m going. I need to pick up some new clothes. These two have destroyed all of my spares.” Masia nodded. There really wasn’t much she could say to that. “Let me know when you’re ready,” she said. The man tied the bag of coins to his waist and drew a black travelling cloak over his shoulders. “The chickens are already loaded in the wagon. I’m ready when you are,” Danuva said. The two walked outside, and Masia mounted her bay, her pants scraping the leather of the saddle. She nodded to Danuva, who sat at the reins of a wagon drawn by a surprisingly healthy nag. The man clucked to his mare, and the wagon began moving. Masia pressed her heels to her horse and followed the wagon. Paelius sat on a rock beside the creek, guarding Sandor as the younger elf washed off the grime of his travels. He studiously ignored his squire’s body. He had been taking liberties with the elf. It wasn’t right, not when he was promised to someone else. But he wasn’t promised to her. Not any more. He could be with whoever he wanted. Paelius growled under his breath. Who he slept with shouldn’t even matter. He was supposed to be searching for a cure. And all he was doing was sitting in a creek, cooling his feet. The elf glanced at the sword laying beside him. Silver plated, a werewolf’s nightmare. There was one way he knew to destroy his curse. But he would not take it yot. Not until he knew all was lost. Standing, the elf shook his legs off. “Sandor, we need dinner!” he called. Sandor stepped out of the creek and shook the excess water off, before shifting into a wolf. He leapt through the trees, soon vanishing from sight. Paelius sighed, and started making his way back toward the house. Danuva sighed in relief as the gates of Astara came into view, shining in the light of the setting sun. It was never fun to be on the road all day, but it had to be done. He led Masia toward an inn, one of the cheaper establishments. The man was not a fan of the place, but it would be good enough for the two nights they planned to stay. Masia tipped the stableboy as she and Danuva placed their feet on solid ground once more. “Any news on the auctions?” Danuva asked. “I heard a bunch of slaves are getting sold in the morning. Other than that there isn’t much,” the stableboy replied, taking Masia’s horse. “Thanks,” Danuva nodded. He and Masia stepped into the inn, spotting a dozen patrons drinking in the downstairs tavern. A young man passed nimbly through the crowd of drinkers, collecting mugs and replacing them with filled drinks. With his slender frame and long black hair, Danuva almost mistook him for Quarian. His eyes widened as he spotted a pair of calico cat ears sticking from the man’s head. Flicking into his magic, Danuva examined the strange aura, spotting a few bruises, mainly near the man’s butt. “What is that?” he asked. Masia studied the cat man. “I believe they’re called nekos. They’re rare and usually keep to the north. What one’s doing here is beyond me,” she said with interest. “Get the rooms. I want to talk to him.” She handed Danuva a silver coin, and he winced as the metal heated slightly in his hand. Parting ways, the man approached the innkeeper. “Two rooms and a mug of ale please,” he said, pulling out an extra three copper. The man behind the counter took the money before handing him a pair of keys. Filling an empty mug, he slid it to Danuva. “So, what’s with the neko?” Danuva asked, taking a drink. “Free pair of hands,” the innkeeper said. “I bought him off a trader a month ago. Folks around here love him. I’ve made a good bit of silver hiring him out to patrons.” “Hmm.” Danuva kept his face neutral as he watched a woman grab the neko’s ass. A slave. And one for sale for sex. “How much did you pay for him?” he asked out of curiosity. “Twenty silver. Trader wouldn’t go below. You thinking of getting one for yourself?” the man grinned. “Maybe,” Danuva said thoughtfully. “Well for only twenty copper you can test him out for a night, see if you like the fur.” Danuva studied the man. “Deal,” he decided, fishing the coins out. The innkeeper took the money and yelled, “Boy! Get your ass over here!” The neko walked gracefully toward them, balancing a pair of plates and three mugs in his hand. Hands reached out, tugging his tail or stroking his ears. He seemed to pay them no mind. He bowed his head as he reached the bar. “You’re done for the evening. This man has bought you for the night.” The neko nodded silently, his eyes flickering toward Danuva. “Enjoy,” the innkeeper leered. “I will,” Danuva said, forcing a smile on his face. He drained his ale and made his way over to Masia, who sat conversing with an elven woman.” “I’m heading to bed,” he said, handing her a key. Masia nodded, eying the neko. Danuva’s neck burned at the silent accusation, but he made no comment. “Good night,” the woman said. Turning, the man made his way to the stairs, the neko following behind him silently.
  10. Yeoldebard

    Lovers at Odds

    Masia Endurlan rode swiftly through the night, pressing her horse ever onward down the dirt road. She cursed her brother for his part in this mess. He hadn’t wanted her to marry, had fought with their father through the entire courtship. But to go so far as to deliberately sabotage her marriage? That was unforgivable. The woman turned at a crossroad, trusting the directions she had ripped from her brother’s mind, along with other information. Paelius was a werewolf. It took her a while to get used to the thought, but she still loved the elf. It had been three months since they had last seen each other, but how much could an elf change in that time? Masia could see a building in the distance, candlelight flickering in a window. She sighed at the thought of getting a warm meal that night. A man suddenly stepped into the road, a sword held in his hands. Masia yanked on the reins, and her horse squealed in protest, nearly bucking her off. “Sorry boy,” she soothed quickly, dismounting. Drawing a long narrow blade from her saddlebag, the woman stared at the man. “By what right do you bar my path?” she demanded, keeping her blade down. “You are on my property. What are your intentions here?” “I have reason to believe the elf I love is here,” Masia said. The man narrowed his eyes. “There is no elf here. Just my chickens.” Masia looked past the man, spying a figure walking toward them. A smile broke over her face as she recognized the elf. “Sandolin,” she said with a slight bow of the head as he neared. Her horse whinnied, backing away, and the woman turned slightly, trying to soothe the beast. “Masia,” the elf said with a huff of surprise and just the faintest hint of dislike. “You know her?” the man with the sword asked. “She is My Prince’s former betrothed.” “Former?” Masia asked sharply. Sandor turned to the man, lightly pressing the sword down with a hiss. “My Prince will not be happy if she is harmed.” The sword dropped quickly, the man holding it grabbing at Sandolin’s hand. “I’m fine,” the elf snapped, snatching his hand away from the human. He turned and made his way back inside. “I suppose that was a chicken as well?” Masia asked wryly. The man grunted. “I can’t keep everyone happy and safe,” he muttered. He backed toward the house, glaring at the sword still in Masia’s hand. The woman turned and sheathed her blade, then grabbed the reins of her horse, grateful he hadn’t run off. She followed the man to the building, tying off her horse to a post before following him inside. “Masia…” Her eyes scanned the room for threats, before settling on the one that spoke her name. Her elf. “Why are you here?” he asked. Masia’s eyes narrowed at the fading scars across Paelius’ body. “What happened to you?!” she demanded. “I ran into a person who disagreed with me,” the elf said dismissively. “Your wrist…” She crossed the room and took Paelius’ hand, ignoring a growl from Sandor. The elf winced in discomfort as she moved his wrist, taking in the deep wounds beneath the metal. “Why is he wearing this bracelet?” she asked, glaring at Sandor. “He’s allergic to silver!” “He wears it because he wants to,” the human said. “Believe me, I’ve been fighting with him about it since we met.” Masia sighed. “You stubborn fool…” She leaned into the elf and whispered quietly. “You don’t need to punish yourself for my brother’s treachery.” Paelius’ eyes widened. Did she know? He felt her arms wrap around him, holding him close. The elf embraced his human fiance, letting out a deep breath. When had his love life become so complicated? He glared at Sandor, a growl cutting off in the elf’s throat. “Danuva, will there be enough food for all of us?” he asked. “Yes, if we eat sparingly. But you and Sandor will be sleeping on the floor if she stays the night. I will not have a lady sleeping on the ground under my roof,” the man replied. Paelius nodded his acceptance. “Masia, we need to talk,” he said, walking towards the bedroom. “Keep the door open,” Danuva called as Masia followed the wolf. “Good sir, are you implying that my virtue might be at risk?” Masia smirked. “Yes,” Danuva said bluntly, staring at Paelius. The elf grunted but left the door open. He sat on the bed and waited until the human was sitting beside him. “So, I’m assuming you pulled from Riardin to find this place,” he said. “Yes. I will never speak to that bastard again,” Masia swore. “How much do you know about what happened?” Masia glanced at the door in concern, her eyes locking with Sandor. The blond elf scowled, a growl in his throat. “Sandor, that’s enough!” Paelius called, and the elf ducked his head. “You don’t need to worry about them. They know a lot about me.” “You’re a werewolf,” Masia whispered. “Yes.” “Riardin raped you, and drove you from your home.” Paelius blanched at the word. It took him a moment to find his breath. “Y-yes…” he said. “He tried to keep us apart, but when I asked why he would separate us, he wouldn’t answer. That’s when I dug through his mind. I hate doing that, but I would hate even more to lose you.” The human turned, leaning toward the elf. Paelius’ nose filled with the smell of vanilla, sweet and tangy, and the elf nearly drooled. Their lips hovered, almost together, and Paelius pulled away. “I’m sorry. I can’t be with you,” he muttered. “Why? Because he touched you?” ‘Because I’ll turn you into a monster too.’ The elf nodded, and the human sighed. “I understand. But I hope we will remain close. We’ve known each other since childhood,” she said. The vanilla wafting off Masia suddenly intensified, and Paelius recoiled. He stood quickly, the sounds around him becoming tunnelled. “Paelius?” A growl escaped his throat, and Danuva was at the door an instant later. Lavender began mixing with the vanilla, and Paelius leapt for the door, trying to escape the smells. Sour grape mixed with the others as he saw Sandor, his squire’s eyes large with lust. Pushing past Danuva without a word, the elven prince grabbed Sandor by the collar and dragged him from the building, praying that Danuva had the presence of mind to explain everything to Masia because he certainly didn’t. Sandor felt his clothes fall from his body, his mind in a daze. His cinnamon was here, ravaging him with nips and licks. It was almost too much to bear. He could smell Danuva nearby, but he drove the human from his mind. The man would not come between him and his prince tonight. His body spasmed as the light of the moon hit it, and with a scream, Sandor fell to his hands and knees. Grey hair sprouted from him, and he howled as a fresh bout of pain hit him. Something pinned him down and the wolf could feel hot breath washing over his neck. Craning his neck, he saw Paelius mounting him, and he whined quietly. His tail flicked to the side as he felt the red wolf prodding at him. Paelius shoved into him suddenly, and Sandor bit back a yelp as the red wolf thrust. The cinnamon washed over him, filling his mind with a dizzying lust for the werewolf fucking him. He felt warm liquid dripping into him as Paelius grunted. A loud gasp startled both of them, and Paelius fell off Sandor’s back, still stuck inside the wolf. Sandor turned carefully, the pressure from Paelius increasing as he moved. He saw Masia darting back into the building and huffed. An audience was the last thing he and Paelius needed. Growling at Danuva, who was hurrying back inside as well, Sandor was startled to hear Paelius let out a heartbreaking howl. Unbidden, the grey wolf joined his red companion as they sang of successful matings, and a broken heart. Paelius eventually softened enough for the two to pull apart, and Sandor immediately sat, licking himself as Paelius shifted and dressed. His prince ran into the house, and Sandor held back for a bit. There was nothing he could do to help. Danuva finished preparing the evening meal, sighing with exhaustion. He had been up all day dealing with Paelius, and now he had to listen to the werewolf trying to convince Masia that what he had done was necessary. Walking to the bedroom, Danuva stuck his head into the room. “My lord, my lady, dinner is ready,” he said uncertainly. “I am no lord. I’m not even a prince,” Paelius snapped. The room fell silent. “Forgive me,” the elf muttered, standing. He pushed past Danuva, the humans staring after him. “I wanted to help him,” Masia sighed as the front door slammed shut. “So do I,” Danuva said. “I had no idea he prefered men. If he had just told me, I wouldn’t have a problem with him taking a male lover.” “I don’t know if he does prefer men,” Danuva said. “The full moon is not kind to werewolves. It drives them crazy with lust. If he had stayed in the room, he would have taken you, by force if necessary.” “Did he take you?” the woman demanded. Danuva stared at his feet. “Yes,” he admitted. “I let him. And I don’t even know who he is.” “Crown Prince Paelius Serande of the elves. Or he was until he exiled himself after meeting with my brother.” “I’m sure he believes it was for the best. He thinks he’s a monster.” “After what I just saw, I’m not sure he’s wrong.” “What you just saw was a man, a werewolf, escaping a dangerous situation by relying on a friend. He kept himself from hurting you.” Masia shook her head, her brown hair flowing around her shoulders. “And just what exactly makes you an expert on werewolves?” “My brother. I lived with a werewolf for six years. I learned what his curse meant, alongside him.” “Then you’ve been assaulted in the basest of manners by your brother?” “Yes. I would help him relieve his tensions in a way that was satisfactory for both of us. I loved Quarian. I would have, and did, do anything necessary to help him. And you do not need to concern yourself with the details,” Danuva said sharply. “Then you are a werewolf too.” “I don’t know. If I am, it is not because of Quarian.” “It is the full moon. How are you not sure?” Masia demanded. “I haven’t been forced to shift. I have no lustful thoughts, save for the ones I harbour as a man.” The man turned to leave. “Dinner is ready. If you can be civil with all my guests, you may join us. If not, I will bring you your meal. I do not want werewolves fighting in my home.”
  11. Yeoldebard

    Birth of a Wolf

    Indeed. One would think with his training Paelius would be at least a little diplomatic.
  12. Yeoldebard

    Silver Streaks

    Men... Can't live with them, can't live without them
  13. But is Danuva his mate?
  14. Yeoldebard

    Birth of a Wolf

    Sandor’s back arched as pain shot through his body. He lay in the moonlight, hidden in a narrow alley in the city. The noise of a city laying down to sleep surrounded him and the elf bit his lip, trying to avoid adding a scream to the night sounds. Another burst of pain accompanied the sound of crackling bones, and Sandor couldn’t hold back. He stuffed his mouth into the crook of his arm and screamed. Collapsing, the elf writhed in pain, clawing at his skin. The agony stopped a minute later and Sandor whimpered, his body tense. A door slammed somewhere and the elf winced. He tried to stand, but couldn’t find his balance, and ended on his hands again. His paws. Whining, Sandor backed up, trying to get away from the paws. But he couldn’t escape himself. Paelius had turned him. He needed to find his prince. Paelius would know what to do. Sprinting out of the alley, Sandor turned sharply and slipped, sliding through the dirt until he hit a wall. Standing, the werewolf shook himself off and started running again. A human turned onto the street and froze at the sight of a grey wolf barreling toward him. He leapt aside as Sandor blew past him and yelled at the wolf. A rock sailed into Sandor’s shoulder and the wolf yelped, falling again. He heard the human running toward him, a sharp scent in the air. The werewolf’s tail slipped between his legs, and Sandor ran, hunched over to make himself a smaller target. He ducked through several alleys and side roads, trying to lose his pursuer. The wolf came out of an alley, spying the gate to the city closing for the night. He put on a burst of speed, ignoring the outraged cries of several guards as he sailed through the gates. He didn’t slow for several minutes, racing west down the main road, before his mind caught up to him. Slowing, Sandor took a moment to check himself. He was a werewolf. If anyone in Astara had seen him shift, he would be hunted down. Staying on the road was a death sentence. Sandor veered off the road, leaping through the tall grass in the direction of Danuva’s house. It would take him several hours, but eventually, he would reach his prince. Paelius grunted as he woke up, still on the floor. Someone was knocking on the door. He sat up as Danuva stood. The human slid his pants on, and Paelius silently went into the bedroom, searching for clothes. He walked out of the room a minute later with a set of tight clothes covering his body. The elf froze at the sight of Riardin standing in the doorway. A man peeked over his shoulder, his eyes glaring into Paelius’. “Greetings, Prince Paelius,” Riardin smiled. “Greetings,” Paelius smiled back uncertainly. “I apologise for missing my nuptials. I have been rather busy these past months.” He saw Danuva raise an eyebrow at the comment, but fortunately, the man stayed silent. “Ah, yes, I’m afraid the wedding is off,” Riardin smirked. “I understand. Please extend my apologies to Masia.” “There is no need for that. My sister wants nothing to do with you. You are… damaged goods,” Riardin leered. Paelius narrowed his eyes. “You will retract those words, sir,” he growled. “They are true. You are a werewolf, are you not?” Paelius paled as the man behind Riardin chuckled. “How did you find out?” “Oh, my dear pup, who do you think made you?” Riardin glanced at Danuva. “I hope he hasn’t done anything… unseemly toward you, my good man.” Danuva shook his head no. “You made me? You gave me this… this curse?!” Paelius snarled. “I did,” Riardin nodded. “And now it’s time for you to come home. You’ve had two months to explore the world and enjoy yourself. But now I need you.” Danuva cleared his throat. “Um, excuse me sir, but did you just say you knowingly made the prince of the elves a werewolf?” he asked. Riardin scowled at Danuva. “I will not have some peasant questioning me,” he spat. “How?” Paelius interrupted. “How did you turn me into this monstrosity?” Danuva sighed at Paelius’ words. “Like any animal makes another of its kind. I bred you,” Riardin grinned. “Now, enough of the questions. You will come with me now.” Paelius took a step forward, unwillingly. He planted his feet on the ground and glared at Riardin. “No.” “You will not challenge me, boy.” Danuva moved suddenly, and a sword flew at Paelius. The elf caught it by the hilt with barely a glance and held it in a high guard. “You will leave immediately and be grateful I am letting you go,” he snarled. The other human stepped between Riardin and the sword, growling menacingly. Paelius moved stiffly, his wounds still not healed. The blade swung at the man’s head and the man caught the blade in his hand. He howled in pain and released the weapon, shaking his hand. Paelius could see a blister forming on his palm. Riardin growled. “Come Greggory. We will deal with him later.” He turned and left the building, his follower trailing behind. Paelius set the sword down and sank against the wall. Danuva took the blade and cleaned it off, both of them quiet. “I’m a werewolf… You made me a werewolf,” Danuva muttered. “I’m sorry,” Paelius sighed. “I don’t know if there’s a cure. I can help you keep your soul intact if you wish.” “I’m not concerned about my soul. I just hope it doesn’t hurt,” Danuva said. “Are you okay?” The air heated around the werewolf and he took a deep breath. “I need to run…” Paelius removed his clothes and shifted into his wolf. He raced out the door and was soon lost from sight. Danuva stood on his porch, sword in hand. He knew he couldn’t use it properly, but the thing had power over the wolves. This house would be kept safe for Paelius. The man scanned the darkening area around him, searching for the wolf. He hoped Paelius would return, but he knew the elf had some guilt over potentially making him a werewolf. Danuva didn’t hold any grudge. If he was a werewolf now, it wasn’t Paelius’ fault. He had seen the wolf pause, fighting the moon, and after seeing what Quarian used to go through in the full moon, Danuva knew just how strong the elf’s will was. He allowed the wolf to take him, claim him. He felt bad for it; Danuva suspected that Sandolin and Paelius had some history, but he and Paelius hadn’t had a chance to talk before his home had been invaded by those… those animals. Danuva heard a snuffle and he looked around, grip tightening on his weapon. A grey wolf walked toward him slowly, and the man raised his sword threateningly. The wolf paused, body dropping low. It whimpered, baring its neck to the man. A red wolf appeared from the road, and the trio froze. The red wolf approached slowly, whining as he sniffed the air. He tentatively stuck his nose into the grey wolf’s neck and sniffed. Danuva’s eyes caught the silver bangle on the red wolf’s ankle and sighed. He couldn’t figure out how to get the silver off him. There was a quiet crunch as the red wolf shifted, and Paelius took its place, bare to the world. “Sandor…” he breathed. “Sandor, I’m so sorry.” Danuva’s eyes widened as the wolf whined. He lowered the blade, letting the tip graze through the dirt as Paelius tried to comfort Sandor. The man turned his back as Sandor shifted under Paelius’ guidance. He winced at the cries that fell unbidden from the werewolf’s maw. Was this to be his fate too, to be at the moon’s mercy, and suffer pain every month? “There were guards chasing me, but I think I lost them…” Sandor choked out, huddled in Paelius’ protective grasp. “Shh, it’s okay. If they come after you, we will deal with them,” Paelius said, ushering the elf to the building. Danuva raced them inside, dropping the sword in favour of two sets of clothes. He handed one to each of the elves and went to the kitchen to begin preparing the hare he had caught the day before. “I… I can smell you,” Sandor said, inhaling near his prince. “And I can smell… Lavender?” He glanced at Danuva who blushed a deep red. The human was unsure why the elf looked at him. Had Sandor smelled him on Paelius? But that was strange. Shouldn’t he have smelled Paelius on him? Either way, Danuva figured the wolf knew he had slept with Paelius. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, busying himself in the kitchen. “No... “ Sandor said distractedly. “My Prince can sleep with whoever he desires.” “You,” Paelius said firmly. “It has always been you. Last night I was not myself.” Danuva froze. Had the wolf really been in control? Had he raped Paelius by allowing the wolf to take him? Was that even possible? “I-” Shit, now he couldn’t even speak. “I- um… I’m going for a walk,” he said, heading for the door. The human picked up the sword and carried it out with him, leaving a pair of confused elves behind.
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