Ravens, Owls and a nightingale

32. Duty & Pleasure

"The silver waves of Lake Andhau
embrace Knight Rhonn the brave
when he rejoins his lady fair
in deepest, coldest grave.

Now only wind recalls the tale
as o'er the lake it flies,
and to the mournful shores it sings
of love that would not die."

Three pairs of unblinking eyes were fixed on Schean, and nobody seemed to as much as breathe until the last echo of his lute had faded away.

"Ohh, I just love that song!" Benella said with a delicious shiver. "It's so horrible and sad!"

"Horrible, that for sure!" Bailenn twined her fingers together on one knee and ignored her big sister's disapproving glare. Their parents had decided to retire for the night, only the three of them and Schean were present, and thus she saw no reason why she couldn't pull her legs underneath her in the big chair. "Sing something nicer, Schean, please. I don't want to hear any more sad stories where everybody dies in the end."

"How about 'The Milkmaid'?" Bengor suggested with a little smirk.

Schean looked up, scandalized, and shook his head.

"Ranea, please!" he said. "I'm surprised at you. That's not a song that you and especially your sisters should know anything about."

"Why?" Benella and Bailenn asked in unison, instantly curious, but Schean pressed his lips into a determined line.

"It just isn't," he said firmly. "It's very lewd, I don't like it at all, nor will I sing it. And that's final."

"Where have you heard it, Ben? What's it about?" The girls took the hint from Schean's unyielding expression and turned to grill their brother instead. Bengor, however, realized that he'd perhaps misjudged the present company and at least had the decency to flush deep red.

"Oh, I head some grooms sing it the other day," he eluded and then added quickly: "I'm sorry, Heliet. You're right, it's not a nice song at all. Sorry."

"It's all right, Ranea!" Schean smiled, hands busy re-tuning the lute. "Okay, how about something like 'The Blossoming Rowan'? Or 'Three Maids on a Morning'?"

"Oh yes, 'Three Maids' is lovely!" Bailenn cried out enthusiastically, and with a nod Schean launched into a happy, bubbling melody.

The sisters and brother listened attentively, fingers drumming and feet tapping in rhythm, and when one song ended they requested another and then another until Schean laughed and begged for a drink.

"Here you are!" Bailenn hurried to bring him a cup of ale and then squatted on the floor at his feet, peering up at his face. "Should we let you go to bed at last?"

"I was hoping Karos would've still come back here," Bengor sighed, pouting a little. "But I think it's obvious by now that he won't, the bore."

"You don't really think he's a bore," Benella stated definitively, then shrugged. "Must've got to talking to the Wizard, though. He's done that a lot since the Lord Ferior and his company returned to Revall."

"Yes, and that's ages ago!" Bengor exclaimed.

"Ages?" Schean's eyebrows arched up. "Oh, I don't think so, Ranea! Considering the distance they had to cover, I wouldn't be surprised if they're still on their way back. And there were rivers to cross, stretches with wolves..."

Bengor heaved a deep sigh. "I hope they get there safely, and soon, so that they can send the boys here quickly. I think it'll be fun to have new company!"

"But what if wolves eat the boys on their way here?" Bailenn's eyes went round at the thought.

"Don't you remember that Master Farris will take them here?" Benella looked unaffected. "I'm sure he'll make pelts of any wolves that dare even try! Even Count Daynar said that he was a good archer, for one thing."

"And handsome, too!" Bengor poked his sister, leering, but Benella just shrugged disdainfully.

"But Bengor, what if the boys are stupid and evil, and tease me?" Bailenn asked suspiciously. "Or what if you won't like them at all?"

For a moment Bengor chewed on his lip, eyebrows crunching, then his mouth set in a determined line.

"We'll get along just fine," he said. "I'm sure of that. And I won't have it if they try to tease you, Bai! If they do, I promise to teach them some manners."

He grinned broadly and added: "Nobody has the right to tease you except me and Nella!"

Bailenn stuck out her tongue at him, then yawned and blinked in surprise.

"I'll go to bed," she announced and scrambled on her feet. "Goodnight, Schean, goodnight Ben and Nella. Nella, will you be coming soon?"

"I think I'll come right now."

Bengor decided that staying up alone would be too boring, even with Heliet to keep him company, and retired as well, leaving Schean to put off the candles.

The minstrel shook his head with a half-exasperated, half-tender smile as he climbed up the stairs to his room, lute lovingly clutched under one arm. Good heavens but the young gentlefolks could be raucous sometimes! And, as much as it warmed him to see how healthy Bengor was these days, sometimes he still thought back with some longing to the sweet, patient child he'd looked after for two long years.

Of course it was inevitable that Bengor would change. He was a boy of thirteen, rapidly growing up into a strong youth, and not just any boy either: the heir of a mighty castle, son of a proud warrior. It was only natural that he should be like he was, now that he could pursue all those things he'd only dreamed about. And yet...

Schean sighed slightly as he opened the door and slipped in. Of course boys were boys, even in the Donyan villages far away on the south coast. Yet he was ready to swear that adolescent Revnashi boys still were in a class of their own. Surely that couldn't be just his imagination?

Well, that class definitely included also Schean's very special young Revnashi, who apparently still hadn't returned from the Ghost Tower. Only the glow of embers in the fireplace cast some light in the room, and Schean added some more firewood before lighting a candle. It was no use waiting. Karos knew how to find his room. He'd go to bed.

Schean stripped himself, quickly wiped himself with a washcloth dipped in cold water, then burrowed under the covers. They were cold as well, and he gathered himself into a tight bundle and waited for the sheets and blankets to warm up. He knew that after a while he'd be cozy and comfortable, but this was always the worst part – coming to an empty bed and trying to get it warm all alone. It was so much nicer when there was another body next to him.

The hinges of the door squealed faintly and Karos shuffled in, looking oddly subdued. He merely glanced towards the bed, then undressed without a word, blew the candle and crawled under the covers.

Schean frowned, but before he had time to say anything, Karos shifted closer and wrapped an arm loosely around him. For a moment he waited, cautiously sniffing at the familiar scent of Karos' hair. It was clean, they'd been to the bathhouse before dinner, and that peculiar aroma of the Wizard's room had once again got entwined in the curls and didn't want to let go. Schean loved that spicy scent, but he didn't like the silence. Everything about Karos told him that something wasn't quite right.

"What's the matter?"

He heard Karos grunt. "Rhamirr's not happy. He's so disappointed because that guy Barem left."

Schean sighed. "He was really hoping he'd stay after all, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

Schean stifled his purr of pleasure when Karos pulled him closer, pressed his cheek into blond hair and rubbed slowly, as if in deep thought.

"That wasn't all, though," he whispered and heard a hissing intake of air. It sounded pained. "Come on. You can talk to me."

Karos shifted a little and the arm wrapped around Schean's shoulders tightened.

"I can't help thinking..." His voice trailed off and for a moment he just lay there, silent. "Maybe I should become his Ashgan after all."

Schean could hear the heavy thud of Karos' heart, so close to his ear. He reached up and combed his fingers through shaggy hair, feeling how Karos pressed into the touch.

"Would that be so bad, then?" he asked. "You already know such a lot."

Karos huffed, impatient or frustrated, Schean wasn't sure what. "Oh, what I know is just one bucket from a well! And I'm not saying that I wouldn't be at all interested, but... do I really want to hole myself up in the Ghost Tower study to Craft? To learn how the moon and stars tell what's going to happen, and when each herb must be harvested or preserved, which herbs bring healing or death? Do I really want to become the guardian of all that knowledge?"

"Hush!" The arms clutched Schean almost painfully tight, but the minstrel forced his voice as steady as he only could. "I do understand you, Karos, I do. Just – how do you know that you won't one day have an even bigger burden weighing on your shoulders?"

"What do you mean?" The embrace loosened a little as Karos tried to see his face in the dim light.

"Your brother," Schean said. "Bengor. He talks the wildest things sometimes, you know."

"Oh, he's one big reason why I want to be free to come and go," Karos ground out. "I want to be there for Bengor once he's the Lord of Deleon. But I can't help feeling that maybe – maybe it'd be my duty after all to give myself to the Craft. That maybe I'm just being selfish, just like Barem, when I don't want to give up the life that I have..."

The rest was muffled into Schean's neck. The minstrel stroked his friend's back.

"Don't you then think you could be very useful if you were the Wizard?" he whispered. "Though, mind you, I'm not saying what you should or shouldn't do. It must be your choice. Just remember that whatever you choose, I'll be there with you – even if you choose the Ghost Tower."

"You can't mean that!" Karos' voice was tight, strangled. "You mustn't say so, Schean, it's not right. You must be free to go when you want."

Schean clenched his teeth together and wiggled into a position where he could grab a good hold of two proper handfuls of curls.

"How many times do I need to say it before you get it?" he demanded in exasperation. "That I'm going nowhere, unless you're going too, or unless you've kicked me out so many times that I finally believe you're in earnest?"

Karos didn't say anything, but Schean felt his chest rise and fall with quickening breath, saw his eyes gleam. He was angry and desperate and frustrated and wanted to help Karos so much, wanted to ease his mind, but didn't know how to. What could he do? His hand loosened its grip and instead cupped the angular face, then pushed slowly back into the hair. He felt Karos shiver.

"Not leaving you, silly," he said and couldn't help smiling at his own words. How many times indeed had he said them, and how many would still be needed? He twined curls around his fingers, caressed the face, and almost gasped when Karos turned his head and nuzzled into the touch in search of comfort. "I want to be with you, and you need me."

"Yes."

Just a puff of air, but it made Schean's heart race. He knew that face under his hand so well: thick eyebrows and straight nose, high cheekbones, surprisingly thick lashes, large mouth. Lips that parted when his fingers ghosted to touch them. Strong jaw. The throat, Adam's apple bobbing as Karos swallowed when the hand continued its slow southward trek. The little hollow between the collarbones...

The arms around Schean tightened and he gasped in surprise, then nearly cursed aloud. There was no way Karos could fail to feel the growing hardness that was pressing into his hip when he held Schean like this, squeezed against him, so close. Just a few more blinks and he'd bolt once more, Schean knew it from the way the body next to him was tensing up. There was no way he could fight it when it happened and he resigned to his fate, wanting to use the moments he still had left as best he could.

"I want to be with you," he sighed and rubbed his nose to Karos' neck just under the ear. "I like you so much. You're my friend and I'm yours, I like being with you. I'm not going anywhere."

...or was there a way, after all? Schean held his breath, every fiber in his body tuned to read the reactions of the tall young man so close to him. He could hear the hum of tension and excitement and yet he still hadn't been pushed roughly away, even though he just couldn't hold back, couldn't help if his hips were slowly grinding against Karos. He felt the rapid heartbeat under his palm as it glided along the chest, then the hard peak of a nipple, heard the hiss of breath.

"Oh yes, it feels good, doesn't it?" Schean desperately wanted to go on. He kissed Karos' jaw, hugged him closer, touched and caressed. He knew full well that he was pushing his luck but damnit, for once he wanted to be reckless, even if Karos would throw him across the room in the end! "Karos, this feels so good..."

He just couldn't stop his foot from climbing up along Karos' leg, knee rising to rest on the man's belly, and then it touched something he'd only been allowed to see so far. The gasp and arching of the body nearly jolted him off but he clung to the man and kissed him squarely on the mouth, throwing all caution to the chilly wind outside.

"Karos," he panted, nibbling on the lips, "hold me tighter, please! I want you to hold me, Karos, kiss me... I want to touch you..."

Incredibly, the big hands clutching him didn't try to pry him off. No, they hesitantly shifted to his hips to support him as he squirmed upwards, they squeezed his butt when he straddled Karos' hips and their cocks touched for the first time. The sound that Karos let out was close to a sob and then Schean was kissing him, coaxing his lips open, tongue thrusting, and Karos was kissing back. Karos was kissing him. That made Schean's head spin even more than the thick, slick length that was rubbing against his own. Karos was kissing him, hungry and needy, moaning. Karos...

... who right then froze, his breathing turning into that too familiar ragged panting. Schean clutched his head close with both hands and rained kisses on his face, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.

"Please don't stop!" He'd be damned if he let this chance slip away now. "Karos, it's so good, don't stop! I want you to kiss me, and touch me, and –"

"Schean..." It was a shuddering sigh, and Karos' hand crept to play with his hair. "Schean, I like you so much."

It sounded defensive, beseeching. Schean swallowed. If Karos was asking his inner demons to grant him the right to do this, well, Schean knew what their answer would be. But what if he got there first?

"I like you," he replied softly. "That's why I like it when you hold me like this. It's wonderful. Just perfect."

He wriggled and laughed a little. "Surely you can feel it? How I feel when you're there so close and hard? Oh, this is so good..."

He almost blacked out when the embrace tightened and Karos raised his head from the pillow to mesh their mouths together. It was an exploring kiss at first, then increasingly confident with every passing moment. At last they had to pull apart to breathe and Karos traced Schean's lips with one trembling finger.

"Talk to me," he whispered. "I want to hear your voice, Schean."

Laughter rippled out before Schean could stop it, and he pressed their foreheads together. "Just try to stop me," he chuckled. "Just you try."

Was it to ground Karos, to keep the memories from overwhelming him, or did he just enjoy listening to Schean? Whichever it was, the minstrel didn't care and so for once he didn't even try to shut up. He told Karos how he'd been dreaming about this, how wonderful it was to have Karos' gorgeous body next to his, how mind-blowing it was to feel those large hands roaming on his naked skin. He told Karos over and over again how much he liked those kisses and touches.

When Revnashi failed him he switched to Donyan and talked, babbled, laughed, out of breath and nearly delirious with joy as he felt Karos relax and give in to his desire, daring to touch and hold him at last. He made sure to tell just how much he loved the way Karos bucked against him when he snaked a hand between them, closed his fingers around that thick cock and stroked it slowly. It felt heavenly, so hard and smooth, the way it just glided in his hand.

With quite a shock Schean realized that he wasn't going to last long. There was no way he could hold back, as overwrought as he was, not when his own dick was squeezed so deliciously between their sweaty bellies and Karos was thrusting into his hand and gripping his ass and grunting something incoherent into his ear. The tingling that seemed to reach all the way to his toes was getting more intense, it was gathering force and recoiling into his balls, he knew he was going to come in an instant, and right then Karos froze with a groan and spilled himself into Schean's pumping hand. The hot surge gave the last little push Schean had still needed, and his back arched as he stumbled over the edge as well.

For a while he just lay there, sprawled on top of a panting Karos, watching the darkness whirl around before his eyes and listening to the last receding jolts of his release. He couldn't help smiling. Their arms were twined around each other, cocks trapped between them, breath mingling together. He was hot, sweaty and slippery and sticky, and felt totally heavenly.

His one hand crept up to fumble for Karos' face, and suddenly he regretted the lack of light. He'd have wanted to see Karos, to look at those strong features.

"Schean..." Karos' breath was a steady puff on Schean's fingers. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"Oh no. No you didn't." Schean crawled closer and kissed him, a wet sweaty kiss. He chuckled. "I feel fantastic."

He heard and felt a contented sigh. "So do I."

Schean laughed under his breath and hugged Karos tight, clung to him with arms and legs like a squirrel to a branch, but his branch was shaking and for a panicked moment the minstrel wasn't sure what was going on. Alarmed, he pressed his cheek against that broad chest, and that was when he could hear the quiet rumble of laughter.

"Is this what it's really like?"

The voice was full of wonder.

"Yes," Schean breathed. "Like this, or better – much better."

"I've been so stupid. So incredibly stupid. I –"

"No, don't say so, Karos! There's nothing stupid about the way you've felt."

"You're just saying so," Karos snorted, cradling Schean in his arms, and the minstrel heard him swallow thickly. "But it's stupid nevertheless. It's just that I -– I was afraid. Afraid that I'd lose control, hurt you somehow, something. That..."

"I understand, Karos. Honestly, I do. And it's no wonder you've been afraid, but everything's all right now. Don't think about it any more, okay?" Schean burrowed closer, then closer still, and breathed out a happy sigh. "You're such a sweet guy... but stop worrying about hurting me. I'm not quite as fragile as you seem to think."

Karos huffed but didn't sound upset. "I know you're not fragile, but still I was afraid I might hurt you. I was – no, you're right, that's enough. No more of that. Now I know better, and..."

The words were cut off by a huge yawn and Schean chuckled.

"Sleepy?"

"Mmm. And damn sweaty."

"We'd better wash ourselves a bit or we'll be really uncomfortable in the morning. Let's talk later."

"I guess you're right..." The arms around Schean tightened. "But Schean, did you really mean what you said? That you won't leave me even if I become the Ashgan?"

"I sure did!" Schean said from the bottom of his heart. "Told you so, didn't I? I promise, Karos-Daleot, that even if you choose to go to a far worse place than the Ghost Tower, you'll still have to drag me along, whether or not you'd want – umpfh!"

Before Schean's brain shut down for the night, he had time for one fleeting thought: of course it wasn't for him to decide whether or not Karos would make a good Ashgan, but at least he could testify that Karos sure was a quick learner, at least in some respects. For one thing, his skills in kissing were nothing short of breathtaking, especially for someone who'd been learning the art for such a short time.

Author's note:

The piece of ballad that opens this chapter is © aigha - *deep bow* and big thanks to my partner & resident poet! - Quatorze