| Title (at least until I come up with a better one: Arrival
| Rating: So far... Hmm... Perhaps PG-13, R something. Not familiar
| with your crazy American ratings.
| Pairing, just because I feel like writing a stupid header: 'Rose/Ceix
| Disclaimer: My babies, and I play with them as much as I want to.
| This -is- how Ceix arrived to Haven, although in the 'actual'
| Erigineea Saga, they were a good deal less furry. ^_^
| Warnings: m/m sex, a bit of language, a whole lot of confused panther
| Feedback: Please!  Email me at mythicsh@mythicshaven.com
| Summary: Just a little slashy something about Ceix's arrival to Haven
| that I felt like writing. Interesting Bits are the purpose of this
| story, therefore not said that it's PWP. Or, well... At least it
| isn't supposed to be in the finished version, when I've won over my
| bad habit of saying "fuck plot" whenever I get bored.
|
+----------------------------------------------------------------------

Somehow, they managed to stumble upon Haven. Somehow, they managed to do it at a point of the Border where noone was currently watching. Ceix had been told what would happen upon crossing, and took it with calm, Shadowrose knew from experience but was still startled. Not so much because he changed, or because Zvee did, or even because Razor did, if only for a brief moment, but because his would-be lover did, and did in a way he would not have expected.

Shovel-like horns. Goat-like ears with long tufts of wiry hair. Short mane. Thin scarlet stripes in his face, on the sides of his neck, and on his tail. Feathered lower arms. Not what he would have expected. But Gods, was he handsome like that...

:You honestly expected the Curse to turn him into a rabbit?: his Bonded asked, surprised.

Shut up, Zvee.

He shouldn't snap at Zvee. It wasn't the wozelle's fault, Zvee had merely pointed out the surface-thoughts he did his best to hide from himself. But it annoyed him that he would think so little of that man. The man he'd come to love. A rabbit, right. Dumbest thing his mind had come up with in a while, right up there with slitting his wrists because of a nightmare.

:At least you didn't know what you were doing that time.:

Gee, thank you, Zvee.

No need to be upset. No need to...
Right. He was upset.

[At this point I got bored and said "fuck plot" upon which I proceeded to more Interesting parts of the story, with or without sensible scene change]

"So... Here we are."

Shadowrose would have said more, but his tongue was being strangely uncooperative. He swallowed once, twice, trying to get rid of the lump in this throat, his tall friend standing behind him with a pair of saddlebags slung over each choulder and a backpack in his arms. Then he dropped his own pack carelessly, knowing that he'd packed it so that nothing could be broken if so a horse fell on it. Without a word he took the backpack from Ceix, and put it down next to his own packs, then took its place in those strong, brown-plumaged arms.

"Eager, are we?"

Ceix laughed and bent his head down just enough to playfully nibble a black ear. The whipcord thin man in his arms twisted just enough to close his jaws around that red-striped muzzle, careful, but firmly.

"Purrrhaps tirrred?" Shadowrose purred in reply, before he let go and leaned back into his beloved.

Not lover. Not yet. Beloved. Not sure how far he dared go.

"You say?"

It was pleasant to watch him talk. Pleasant to stand with one ear pressed to his chest and hear his words as a faint rumble in there, background noise for the strong heartbeats. Ceix wouldn't turn into one of Them. Never would he have anything in common with Those That Want One. The shadows from his childhood were perhaps dead, but in his mind it was as if his hands had never held those knives, dipped those crossbow bolts in poison, and, that once, closed about that man's throat. Very live, very vivid shadows in his head. Not healthy, no, they were sick in their very souls, Those That Want One, live, vivid shadows that scared him still.

He shuddered, and Ceix responded by holding him harder and nuzzling his hair, his breath a soft whisper in the scarlet flood. A tingle of something rushed through his body, and he pressed himself closer to Ceix. This felt good. When the taller man withdrew, a tiny sigh of discontent escaped his throat.

"Don't sound tired to me, Shadow. But that bed seems to be a place as good as any to rest your ol' aching bones, eh?"

Shadowrose chuckled. It may well be Ceix didn't think so himself, but if there was a bolder man around, he had not met him. And his faeire blood had bred very true in all aspects but his height, looking to be the younger of the pair at a little over half a century. A child still, his father would have said.

"My 'old aching bones' would like to tell you they are just fine, you horny rabbit. And furthermore-"

Ceix wouldn't let him finish that sentence, but cupped his head in his hands and kissed him, roughly, hungrily. It surprised Shadowrose, but at least he didn't reach for a hidden knife. A few years ago, he would have. A few years ago, he had. For less than this kiss. Hesitantly he parted his lips, slowly kissing back, his body shivering on the inside, if not on the outside. It wasn't that it wasn't good. It was just... His experience screamed at him that he'd get hurt, his mind firmly told his experience to shut up, and he felt like he was caught somewhere in the middle between the two.

When Ceix let go after what seemed to be an eternity, Shadowrose was left gasping for breath and glaring at his beloved as the brunette set down his double pairs of saddlebags and stretched. It seemed that with that burden off his shoulders, he grew at least an inch.

"Don't do that!"

"Why not?" Ceix asked, cocking his head in a very bird-like manner. "You certainly haven't mind'd before..."

Shadowrose responded by casually letting the pair of daggers from his wrist-sheaths drop into his hands, holding them crossed for Ceix to see for a moment, then replacing them. His point was clear enough, no need for words. Surprising him could well be suicidal. Not because he meant to kill, but old habits died hard, and the daggers had been useful on the trip. Now he rolled up his sleeves to take the sheaths off, not looking up once.

"You forget'd something, 'Rose."

"Don't call me that. What?"

"That's my job." Ceix couldn't have cared less about Shadowrose's remark. "Come over here, and I'll give you a hand..."

"I am not a child" the pather snapped, tail lashing out and knocking something from a shelf. "I have done this more times than you, I know what I'm-"

"I say'd, it is my job. Teacher."

Shadowrose shrugged and stopped tugging at the somewhat damp leather straps. If it was that important, he could let Ceix do it. He had done so before, if only for the reason they both needed to work on their trust. Ceix walked over to him, slowly, and took him in his arms for a moment before he started on the shirt's buttons. It was not a quick affair, the brunette flatly refused to look at what he was doing, nibbling and kissing at Shadowrose's ears and neck. A low rumble rose from the panther's throat, and by the time the shirt was out of the way, he was all but speechless with purrs.

And that snippy little part of his mind was telling him that this was wrong, that he would become one of them. He told that part of his mind to take a long vacation somewhere very far away. Or go dance on some dragon's dinner table. He certainly didn't want to listen to it, gave him a feeling like there'd been a serpent's tongue tickling his ear, whispering empty promises and idle treaths. This all felt so good, he never wanted it to end, if he could have dragged this moment out over the rest of his life, he would. A tiny whimper escaped his lips as Ceix withdrew, leaving a mark beneath the fur on his vibrating throat.

"Tails and talons, 'Rose, why do'd you put all that on!?"

The panther looked up at his beloved in confusion, and Ceix nodded towards the harness-like arrangement of soft black leather strapped tightly to the half-faerie's chest. Or, more likely, he nodded towards the previously concealed weapons the harness held. Shadowrose shrugged.

"Shadowrose, C'ix. Feels safer. There are some things in the forest I rather not meet unarmed. Dark Unicorns, among them."

"D..."

"Yes." Shadowrose's mouth curled upwards in a toothy grin. "And 'sides, 'tis more for you to pick off, isn't it?"

Ceix smiled hesitantly. "Take you like'd, 'Rose?"

Shadowrose just sighed and pretended he didn't hear that last. May be that he hated his childhood nickname, but there was no reason to still do. Others had used it since. It wasn't quite him that guided his legs to take the two steps over to the taller man, not quite him who told his arms to wrap around that perfect neck, and not quite him that stretched up to kiss Ceix. But he wasn't very concerned about it, it all felt good, felt right.

"'Liked' can't even begin to describe how I feel, love," he purred, breaking the kiss only for as long as it took him to utter those words.

His hands, the same hands that had explored so many other bodies, had so many women melting under his touch, and had robbed even more bodies of their lives, moved hesitantly to Ceix's waist, rubbing lightly through the rough fabric of that awful purple and yellow shirt. Say what you want about the Order of the Gryphon, the one who had drawn up their heraldic symbol ought to be hanged for lack of taste. Ceix didn't seem to mind. Had it been a woman standing before him, it would have made him bolder, now, he simply saw it as an excuse to continue the same way. Not to risk going too far.

Ceix's left hand, broad and remarkably strong, found the first buckle of a half-dozen, and fought with it for a few seconds before managing to get it open. It had been much easier to do this sort of things before, when he still could use both hands. Still had the use of this swordshand, the hand that now was rendered something remarkably less useful by mishealed bones. As the first strap was loosened, there was hardly a difference, but once the next was, too, out of the way, the harness didn't fit so snugly to Shadowrose's chest, if by hardly the width of a finger.

Would have left it on, Ceix thought to himself, trying to open the third buckle, if not for the weapons in it and that tack cleaning isn't what I'd like to see him at, come morning.

Shadowrose shivered, felt his legs slowly turn weaker, and leaned into Ceix's chest, his hands moving to the other man's back. Felt good. Warm and safe and... Good. Very good. Another buckle opened, the arrangements to hold his previously concealed weapons loosened a little bit more. He usually didn't mind it, too used to it to even consciously notice it, but now, he couldn't wait to slip out of the soft, black leather. Seemed to be choking him. Perhaps that was what it meant to be in love.

He wasn't sure, only once had he felt that way before, and then he'd decided to leave weapons out of the picture not to scare the fragile woman, his Wild Rose, that he'd grown to love the three days it took to prepare her death. Was that so, that there was a curse in his father's blood, when, although noone ever spoke of it, his brother, too, had killed his first love?

"So, so, let go of me for a second, would you?" Ceix laughed, every buckle undone and the straps collected in his hands, ready to be pulled over the panther's head.

"Make me," he challenged, clinging harder to the younger man.

He hadn't even closed his mouth when he found himself gently pushed backwards, until the edge of the bed touched his kneepits. With a well-calculated shove he was sent on his back across the bed, on which Ceix pinned his arms down and run his tongue in a snake-trail from the base of the feline's throat to the pitch black line at the side of his muzzle. Muscles rippled under the by road-dust and sweat dully dark gray pelt as Shadowrose squirmed, quite futilely, and then lay back, purring, letting sensations wash over him like the lukewarm rain slaves on the Islands of the Sun cherished so.

"You. Are. Perfect." Ceix murmured, punctuating each word with a kiss to a hardly visible darker rosette in the panther's fur. "Promise you won't walk away?"

"Neverrr could I-" he begun to reply, but clamped his mouth shut as Ceix unexpectedtly found a sesitive point with that callused left hand. Only functional hand. "Whoaaah..."

Ceix chuckled and nibbled at his throat, ruffling the smooth pelt with his lips, teeth and tongue, looming over him in a way that anything but suggested doom. He was just all too happy to let go, let his tired muscles relax, and just feel. His tail, a black snake with a mind of its own, curled lightly over Ceix's back, tailtip flicking in exitement. With inhuman patience, he freed his hands from where Ceix had held them pinned to the bed, and just as slowly and patiently he tugged Ceix's shirt, hair by hair, out of trousers' and belt's grasp, listening with fascination to the younger man's breath as it grew just a tiny bit heavier, just enough to notice. By the time he got to the shirt's neck lacings, his hands trembled and he fumbled with them for what seemed to be at least three eternities before accidentally cutting them off with nails turned claws by the Curse. He didn't waste any time pulling it over Ceix's head, though, almost snaking in under the loose -- but not that loose -- shirt as he removed it. A loosened strap from the harness he wore hit him on the nose, and he jerked back, rubbing it indignantly. That had hurt. Not as badly as a bunch of broken ribs or a stab in the back, no, but enough to startle him quite badly and pull back into himself.

"I told you," Ceix murmured, nuzzling his neck and once again collecting the straps, this time in very uncooperative fingers, since his left hand was busy trailing along the panther's spine, "letting me take this off would be a good idea."

Shadowrose could hardly argue with that statement, it was, indeed, true. But the smack on his sensitive nose had if not broken, so at least damaged the magic. He was no longer spellbound by sensations new to him, and the part of his memory that wanted to compare Ceix to Those Who Want One had gained confidence, speaking louder to him, scaring him. With some effort, he ignored it, and hesitantly reached out to touch his beloved. The ircaan's reaction to the feather-light contact, brushing over his chest and nipple, surprised him, it wasn't even a real caress. Encouraged by the effect his tentative touch had had, he became a little bit bolder, stroking the white-furred chest and abs, trailing the scarlet stripes on the younger man's sides with his nail-claws, but avoiding getting too low. He was still not quite comfortable thinking of what caused the tent in the ircaan's somewhat loose, formally yellow trousers. As if reading his mind, his partner sat back and after a bit of fumbling with the belt buckle, got rid of the last of the clothes hiding his oddly patterned form.

The panther fought with fear for a few moments, the smooth-looking pink flesh emerging from his would-be lover's sheath awoke bad memories, fear that turned into confusion when the younger man kneeled on the floor in front of him, gently searching to remove what was left of Shadowrose's clothing, too. His confusion must have shown, for the ircaan smiled reassuringly, adoration accompanying the lust burning in brown eyes. Perhaps it wasn't so bad.

"You need only tell me to stop, and I will," Ceix said, his voice throaty, his breath quick.

Hands on his hips, applying only the slightest preassure, not restraining, merely maintaining contact. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, content, beyond content. The cool air on his stiffening member made him gasp, and his ears burned hot and red under the fur, claws digging into the mattress. The voices in his head laughed at him, and mocked him for thinking he were different from Them. They were getting harder to ignore by the minute. Eyes squeezed shut to tightly it hurt, lashes damp, he tried to relax, for his beloved's sake. Ceix would be disappointed if he lost any more control now. Slowly, the sharp lines of tensed muscles softened, just a tad, as the younger man's knees grew increasingly sore from the uneven floor. Warmth closed the chill out from the last piece of furless flesh on the half-faerie's body, sending an unexpected thrill through his feline form, claws flexing into the bedding where they were firmly planted. It took another few moments for his mind to catch up, and he didn't have time to really process the information his body was sending him before something stroked the few inches out of his sheath and continued, teasingly running along the comparably thin velvet fur, then thrust a hair inside, urging his body on, tempting it to betray the mind that was struggling to keep it in line. The panther's breath locked in his throat, mouth half-open. A flicker in the back of his mind somehow managed to draw his attention, as if the shadow of a butterfly's wings had touched him for the shortest instant.

Zvee! Get out! I...

What was he doing? Realization hit him hard, like the proverbial falling piano or bucket of freezing water. With an effort much greater than he thought it would be he gently but firmly pushed the younger man off him, backed up onto the bed and lay, with his back towards his love, ashamed. A hand grasped his shoulder, asking more clearly than words what was wrong.

"Don't. Please, C'ix. Anything, just... Don't turn me into one of Them. Don't touch..." He faltered, there, not sure what word he could politely take into his mouth, not sure he wanted to.

The knight-trainee complied, lying down, his touch decidedly not only that of a friend, but made so more by the care in the deformed hand that ran along the panther's side and back than by anything the youngster would term intimacy. This time, it took a lot longer before a low rumble rose in the black cat's throat and his body relaxed. Slowly the hand roamed lower, soon joined by another, one far more dexterious, and ten white-furred fingers squeezed the panther's sheath gently, in unison, nutty brown plumage tickling thighs and abs. The rumble grew louder and lower, then was abruptly cut off as a hand with not quite withdrawn claws swatted the ircaan's.

"I said don't!"

Four parallel lines across the back of the man's already deformed right hand, four scarlet lines the same color as his stripes and the panther's long hair. He silently withdrew a few inches, apparently not enough, since the startled feline rose and backed towards a corner, shivering, eyes wide and gleaming of unshed tears.

"I'm sorry, 'Rose... I just want'd to give you a good experience..." Ceix's voice hardly carried over the silence, but the distress in it was apparent.

Slowly the panther returned to the wide bed left behind by the couple he had once shared the room with. Slowly, uncertainly, he came into the arms of the, aside from stripes and feathers, pristine white creature. His tail brushed against his beloved's still-erect shaft, drawing a groan from the brunette's throat. Hesitantly emerald eyes sought brown ones, saw in them nothing of the ill will the voices in his head told him to expect, and let out a soft sigh, leaning onto the heavier man's chest and shoulder, a fragment of a content purr rising in his throat.

"C'ix?Quot;

"Hmm?"

"You want to... Don't you?"

The ircaan's head bobbed, hesitantly, heavy horns unbalancing him for a moment and making his answer seem less sincere than it were. For another timeless moment the emerald eyes caught and held the brown pair, and then the cat quickly looked away and down, speaking so low Ceix at first wasn't sure he'd heard him.

"Take me, then, I think you should..." Then, louder. "Yes, do it."

The younger man's left hand ran down the panther's side, caressed a buttock, and then fell limp to the mattress. Sadly, the brunette shook his head.

"I can't. I will'd hurt you, you're all tensed up."

"I can relax." He didn't quite snap. The cream-colored tip of his tail twitched, but he was reining in whatever emotion was upsetting him, to the best of his currently shaky ability.

"Think I can'd bear to cause you pain because of something that stupid?"

"Not so painful." He had no qualms about lying his beloved in the face.

"I don't know what you're trying to prove, or to whom, but this will obviously not work. Let it be for the night. It does not matter."

"If you don't think I'm worth your time, you should've stayed where you came from."

"But..."

The panther snarled, got on his feet, snatched a robe off the back of a chair and stomped out, tail lashing. Ceix stayed behind, confused, staring at the door as if the wood could explain what he'd done wrong. Not until his back started cramping did he move at all, and then, only to lay back and stare just as emptily at the ceiling. The door creaked, and he cast a quick glace that way, hoping Shadowrose was returning. Instead, he was staring into the amber eyes of a large wolf with jet black, magneta-and-green-patterned wings. With a groan, he lay back again, turned his eyes back to the ceiling.

"What is wrong, mate-of-my-Bonded?"

"You don't have to pretend to me, Zvee. I know you loathe what I am, and he does, and you hate calling me that."

"Do not be a fool, Ceixton."

The knight-trainee didn't answer, just twitched his ears a bit and turned his head away from the wozelle. He hurt, but he was not going to admit that any time soon.