by Pfantazm
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The Flier moon was full and low in the evening sky, casting a golden sheen
into the half-shadows of the courtyard. Thom sat, his back to the wall,
his nearly untouched dinner tray on the flagstones beside him. He found
he only had the stomach for his apple.
He felt the early autumn breeze brush past him. He had to hug his arms around his chest to feel comfortable: not too cold, not too alone. The Chaser moon was only making a show over the tops of the battlements when a dark-haired man, taller than Thom, handsome, with pure blue eyes that seemed to glow in the sepia pall of the evening, came up to him. Thom looked up. The interloper held out another half of an apple. Thom smiled at Madoc. He accepted the apple. Madoc crouched down, deliberately not asking the question he needed to ask. Thom answered anyway. "I thought it would be so simple. Just you and I righting the wrongs of the land like I always tried to do, but with the King's blessing. It's all so different though. There are so many rules, the King would rather see me fail, the other guards don't know what to do with me, and the only one I can talk to is Dorian and they're trying to kill him too." He took a deep breath. "I don't know if I can do this. I'm afraid, Madoc. "Sir Rhys knows my secret. The reason we're getting Sir Bastian's help is so he can watch over me and get rid of me if I'm not doing what I say I'll do. They don't want me here. I'm a disruption to their order and they want to be rid of me." Madoc spoke. "I know our king. He doesn't want to see you fail. He simply doesn't think you'll succeed." Thom glared at him. "I don't think you realize what the difference is there. If he wanted you to fail, you would be dead now, and so would I. "Was it something somebody said that brought all this on?" Thom nodded. "Sir Fergus?" Thom smiled and nodded again. "He's a blowhard, but he's harmless." Madoc lifted Thom's chin to look in his eyes. "This was your thirteenth day here. Tomorrow we ride off to meet Bastian and find Lennox. You know that we can't...." Madoc looked around. "Not here. Can you last one more night?" Thom had been studying Madoc's eyes as he had Sir Rhys' earlier. In Madoc he saw concern, compassion, and a love that was pure. He put his head back. He imagined Madoc's magnificent body, naked, sweating, touching him, around him, on top of him, inside of him.... "Yes." "Don't worry. Our motives are true. We'll perform this duty for the King and we'll be fine." Madoc laid his hand on Thom's shoulder. "We'll be fine," Thom repeated, and meant it. "Eat up now. You'll need your strength for tomorrow. I'll get my dinner and I'll join you." The two of them talked long into the night before returning to their separate rooms. Thom dressed in his new clothes; as a servant of the king all of his needs were met. He wore breeches of a tough brown material, a clean white shirt and proper riding boots. He was also given one extra change of clothes, in addition to the all-black outfit he'd worn on arriving in Dragon's Keep a fortnight or so ago. He tried not to think of the fact that the clothes had probably belonged to a series of dead knights. The other addition to Thom's wardrobe was the tabard which marked him as a Guard. The tabard was like a long undershirt without sides. Thom was to tuck the tail of it under his belt but not into his trousers. It was bright green with a gold dragon over the chest. He also had a leather breastplate, or cuirass, as armor from the quartermaster. The quartermaster had also provided a large quantity of supplies, more than he knew Sir Madoc had carried. Some things, such as soap, could be replenished at any outpost, or from donations from grateful citizens. Other things, such as a second blanket made of the black material that could be magically stretched to any size, were one-time issue only. Thom wondered what he and Madoc would do with the spare blanket, since they would be sharing one. Perhaps they could use it as a tent. Thom had to pack all of these things away into saddlebags, and then ready his new horse for the journey. Thom's mount was a beautiful black mare named Warrigal. He'd had to practice grooming her, and properly getting all the tack onto her. He'd been a quick study. His father had been a tinker, so he was used to dealing with fiddly bits of leather and metal. Warrigal herself seemed to be something of a fiery horse, but she had taken to Thom readily enough. The test of their relationship would be when they had to ride together for days. Finally he was ready to depart. The official plan was that the two of them would ride out to the coastal city of Karelia to meet with Sir Bastian. The secret, revised plan was that shortly after leaving the capital city of Aragon, Thom and Madoc would split up: Madoc to rendez-vous with Sir Bastian, and Thom to find Lennox in the Greypoint Mountains to see if he would help them to round up Kraid's Marauders, the band of cutthroats it was their first mission to subdue. Lennox had been a sort of working prisoner in their camp and knew every one of them. He met Madoc at the gate to Dragon's Keep. Sir Madoc sat astride Fleetfire, the white war-stallion that had carried them through their first adventure. The man himself was beautiful: handsome, noble face, short black hair, tall at 6' 2", and with a body as big as his heart. He had square, broad shoulders, a barrel chest and thick, muscular arms. He was attired much like Thom was, except that his tabard was red, indicating that he was acting as a member of the High Guard for this mission, and that he wore tight hose that showed off his powerful thighs and calves in perfect definition. They departed from the barracks, then from the city, and into the countryside. Through the day, they rode as two ordinary knights would, though Thom could feel the sexual tension between them. Madoc hadn't been around much during the two weeks while Thom had been training. It was just as well; Thom needed all his concentration and energy for his preparations. But now he was very ready. He thought of how it would be.... Thom might suddenly pull off the road. Madoc follows. Thom dismounts and moves over to Fleetfire. Thom pulls the bigger man down off his horse, his desire granting him strength. He lays his partner down in the tall, golden grass of the meadow. Thom climbs on top of his partner, straddling him and begins to kiss and lick all over his mouth and face, tongue attacking his exposed neck, teeth nipping at his earlobe, lips caressing his eyelids. Off comes the red tabard, the armor, the shirt. The oral assault continues as Thom laps down Madoc's smooth chest, nuzzling each strong pectoral before licking and kissing each dark nipple until it becomes a raised, hard cone of flesh. Madoc moans, his voice a sultry, deep, purring growl of pleasure. Thom glides sideways to breathe in the heady scent of his underarm, the only area on his upper body where hair grows. His tongue tickles the tender skin inside, causing Madoc to shudder. Thom continues down again, slathering over the shallow foothills of muscle across his love's stomach. His tongue explores new territory again as it probes deeply into Madoc's navel. Madoc thrusts his torso up, shoulders pressing into the crushed plants below, his breast arching skyward, his eyes closed and head bent back slightly. Thom crawls upward again to lie completely atop the bigger knight. Madoc meets Thom's lips in a desperate kiss. Thom's tongue invades the other's mouth as Madoc grabs him closer, caressing the back of his head through his thick hair. Madoc presses back into Thom's mouth, but Thom remains the aggressor by sucking on his tongue. Thom moves back onto all fours and reaches down for Madoc's grey hose. He rolls them down, binding his strong legs at the knees. He yanks at the small knots keeping his underthings together. Madoc's freed cock swings up, brushing against the trailing end of Thom's tabard. Thom draws his lips over Madoc's tongue as he lets it go. He rears up on his knees to behold the gorgeous naked specimen before him. Moist, tan skin stretched taut over a frame packed full of round muscle, slightly paler only across the hips, hairless everywhere except for a slight dusting along his legs and a thick thatch around his glorious penis. Thom leans down over it. Straight and true, it has a single vein spiralling along its side. The pink head is round and full. It shakes slightly as its owner's heart beats. Thom grips it gently between thumb and forefinger. He flicks at its underside near the head, and Madoc inhales. Thom makes more quick, cautious brushes around its head until the recumbent knight is ready to scream from the anticipation, but he makes no sound. After some minutes of this torturous teasing, Thom touches the head to his tongue, takes it inside his mouth and begins to suck. Madoc groans with delight. Thom's head slides up and down Madoc's member, while his tongue caresses every surface of it. Madoc fights to keep from thrusting deeper into his throat. Eventually the tip touches the back of Thom's throat, sending a spark up past his balls and into his spine. Madoc pushes reflexively and probes into Thom's throat. Thom gulps, closing his muscles around Madoc's stiff dick. The black-haired knight grunts from deep inside his chest and loses control, sending spurts of creamy, tangy fluid right down his gullet. Thom continues to swallow as Madoc cums. "Thom?" Madoc asked. "What?" he said, focussing on the voice. "I said, `Have you seen a stream nearby?' We should water the horses. I guess you haven't seen much of anything. What were you thinking of?" "Tonight," he replied with a devilish grin. "Oh," he said, leering back. "How were we doing?" Thom licked his lips seductively. "Oh," he repeated, blushing slightly. "I'm sorry I interrupted." "Don't worry. It'll be better when you're actually there." Madoc's grin broadened into a bright smile. "I love you. I'm so glad we're doing this together." "I love you too. And I'll love you tonight." Madoc manoeuvred Fleetfire closer to Warrigal and leaned in to give Thom a half-hug and a kiss on the lips. To Thom, it really was better than the fantasy he'd just had. They continued riding south until sunset. They snuggled together, faces intimately close. Thom felt so much more at ease now that he was back in familiar surroundings. "Do you suppose we'll have to go back to the Keep very often? Other than for trials and such?" Thom asked. "Not very," Madoc responded dozily. "Maybe if we are called in for an assignment we'd have to be there overnight, but we would want to set out again as soon as possible." Madoc rolled over to face his partner. "You hated it that much?" "Yes. I know it's really the only home you've known, but I couldn't stand it. I don't belong there." "Are you having second thoughts?" Madoc asked. "No!" Thom said, shocked. "By the gods, no! How could you even think it? All I know, and all I need to know is that I belong with you. I could last at Dragon's Keep if I needed to, so long as I was there with you." Thom reflected on this as he lay back to stare up to the stars. "That was the sappiest, most ridiculous piece of drivel ever to come out of my mouth," he mused. Madoc broke up laughing. "That was rather... syrupy." "But angels save me if it's not true." "The others may come to accept you in time. And if they don't, it doesn't matter. I know you are truly worthy of wearing the dragon tabard." "Thank you." Thom rolled over and gave Madoc a kiss. "But tonight we need sleep. We have much to do on the morrow." Thom's love wrapped him up in his arms and they both drifted off. Early on his second day, while he stooped at a brook to fill his waterskin, he heard someone yell, "Halt!" Thom stayed still. He was in a lightly wooded area high in the mountains. Warrigal was some distance away. If the hidden person was an archer, he wouldn't be able to get to her. He couldn't draw his sword without being obvious about it, but he could pull out his dagger. "Stay right where you are." Thom heard plants rustling slightly very close behind him. He eased his dagger out, hoping this unknown man would not see his arm move. He turned the dagger in his hand, assuming a throwing grip. Thom had heard stories of encounters like this. He was wearing his tabard, so it was obvious that he was a knight. Only one sort of person would tell a knight not to move: a desperate criminal who would kill any lawman. The former thief steeled himself. Thom whipped around, eyes tracking to find the attacker. He raised his arm to throw. His hand only just managed to maintain its grip after Thom recognized his target. Lennox stood trembling, his knife in hand. He was deathly pale. His eyes looked sunken, with great, dark circles underneath them. The thief had been thin when Thom had last seen him about three weeks ago, but now he looked emaciated. His clothes were dirty and hung off him loosely. Thom couldn't be sure if Lennox even recognized him. The redhead thief lumbered forward toward him. Thom backed up and kept his dagger ready. Lennox rushed forward. The knife fell from Lennox's hand as he stumbled to his knees and grabbed Thom about the waist. He began sobbing uncontrollably. Thom safely sheathed his dagger and kneeled down to Lennox's level. "By the gods, Lennox, what's happened to you?" "It's you! I thought-- oh gods...." "Calm down, Lennox. It's alright. Now, what's been going on? You look terrible." Lennox snuffled. "I haven't been eating, I haven't slept... I keep thinking I hear someone following me. I-- I can't go on like this." He was shaking. "I'm so glad I found you." "Well, actually, I've been looking for you." "What?" Lennox looked up. He saw the tabard clutched in his hands. "You're...? No!" He tried scrabbling to his feet. Thom held him down. "Lennox, stop! I'm not going to arrest you; I need your help. But first you need food and rest." Lennox still looked scared. "Please, Lennox, trust me." "But how are you...? Why are you...?" The thief's tiredness was beginning to show. The thought process was too much for him. "Never mind all that. I'll tell you after you've gotten some sleep." Thom helped his friend to his feet, and led him toward Warrigal. "Come on, up you get." "Where are we going?" "To my safehouse." | ||
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