A/N: Whereas the previous chapters of this collection were rated K, this particular chapter merits an M rating due to more graphic descriptions of a loving, sexual situation between two consenting adult males. Please consider yourself forewarned and decide for yourself whether this is the type of content you wish to read.

I personally believe that this chapter focuses more on deep emotions and sensuality rather than the straight-up sexual act. FictionPress, however, might have a different view…

(Timeline: Approximately two weeks after the conclusion of “The Chronicles”)

The rain tapping insistently against the window by the bed had brought along a collection of charcoal-colored clouds thick enough to blot out most of the moonlight. Even the amber illumination from the light orb on the table halfway across the room did little to beat back the darkness permeating the chamber.

When an insistent beam of lunar light suddenly did break through its temporary cover, however, it cast its argentine glow over the two tightly entwined figures on the mattress in a most complimenting way. Revealed were long muscular legs, fair skin stretching over tight buttocks and well-defined arms and chests, and the light made the thin sheens of sweat covering both bodies seem like liquid silver.

Kandaar had his face buried in Mithrandos’ shoulder, gasps and moans of pleasure tearing from his throat, while the blond warrior was nipping at the damp neck below dark curls, one hand wound into the chestnut mane while the other all the while kept up the steady stroking rhythm that was the cause of the scribe’s inarticulate noises.

Slowly he increased the pace of his hand upon the sensitive flesh, and Kandaar’s breath hitched in response. Mithrandos could feel his companion’s body tensing; not much longer now…

The artist lifted his head from Mithrandos’ shoulder and the lovers descended upon each others’ mouths with a crushing kiss which Kandaar only broke to cry out a second before his swollen member pulsed in Mithrandos’ fist, spilling his essence over sword-hardened fingers that guided him through the after-spasms and gently brought him back from the pinnacle of his passion.

Afterwards, comfortable silence followed in which Kandaar caught his breath while Mithrandos reached for the cloth he had placed next to the pillow.

Kandaar stretched languorously, arching into the fabric-covered touch as Mithrandos cleaned them both, and a blissful sigh escaped him.

“I think you have just brought me close enough to the gates of Alysiee,” he purred, referring to the paradisiacal realm of the shadowlands reserved for the righteous and the just, “that for one brief moment I caught a glimpse of what lies beyond, and it was too beautiful to be put into mere words.”

Mithrandos smiled at the obvious flattery. “You do me too much honor,” he said before his grin twisted into an impish smirk. “But I am pleased that I could take you there.”

At the sight of Mithrandos’ amusement, Kandaar summarily reached for him, claiming his mouth in a fiery, tongue-rich kiss that quickly turned smugness to moans of need, for the act of so wanton a kiss from those soft, sensual lips was enough to make the captain’s head spin and leave him breathless - and not from want of oxygen.

The scribe’s hand snaked up along his bent knee and over the soft skin of his inner thigh, then halted to rake lightly and teasingly through coarse blond curls before it finally wrapped around the hard evidence of Mithrandos’ ardor.

Strangely enough, however, Kandaar made no move to repeat the motions that would reciprocate the pleasure he had so recently received. Instead, he broke their kiss to softly touch Mithrandos’ face with his other hand, grey gaze intent. There was clearly something on his mind. Mithrandos waited, watched him take a breath before his lips parted to speak. He did not, however, expect his lover’s next words.

“I know that there is a way for two men to join their bodies as men and women do.” From under long, dark lashes Kandaar regarded him almost solemnly. “Will you join with me in this fashion?”

Mithrandos’ eyebrows rose in honest surprise; while he was hopeful that one day Kandaar would grant him entrance into his body, he had been fully prepared to wait until his companion was ready for this big step, however long this would be.

It had been eighteen days since he took Kandaar to his bed for the first time, and not much remained unexplored between them but this; would tonight then turn into the night for them to fully consummate their commitment?

For a long moment Mithrandos simply stared at him. “Are you certain, love?” he asked at last. “This is a gift not to be given lightly. Besides, there is no need to hurry things along.”

“Maybe so.” Kandaar’s eyes never left Mithrandos’ face. “But it is a gift that was always intended just for you.” The words were spoken with such certainty and accompanied by a look of such honest desire that Mithrandos’ heart jumped into his throat. “And while it is true that every night I spent in your arms these past few weeks have been no less than pure joy, I…I have come to yearn to know the feel of you inside of me.” Kandaar’s gaze was still on him, but now a faint coloring spread into his cheeks that was endearing to watch.

Mithrandos ran his fingertips along that rosy blush on one side of the handsome artist’s face. “I do not wish to take advantage of you.”

Kandaar took the hand from his cheek, placing it upon his heart, and Mithrandos could feel the thunderous beat under his palm. “How can you take advantage of me when it is I who asks for this?” he said simply. “Take what I offer – and make me yours, beloved. It would complete me.”

Unable and, if he was really honest with himself, also unwilling to argue with that logic, Mithrandos did the next best thing: he kissed his lover in acquiescence. “Then who am I to deny you completeness,” he whispered against Kandaar’s lips when they parted again and then placed his palm against the scribe’s chest and pushed him back into the pillows with gentle insistence. Golden hair fanned along Kandaar’s shoulder as Mithrandos all but draped himself over him, his hand on the broad chest moving to tease a nipple before trailing lower to glide over waist, hip and thigh until it reached its destination between the tight globes of the dark-haired Guardian’s buttocks.

In eager expectation Kandaar parted his legs a little wider, yet Mithrandos’ fingers ventured no further.

“We are in need of something to ease the passage.”

Kandaar blinked at his softly spoken words as if startled out of a reverie. “You, ah, have nothing here?”

Although Mithrandos did not feel his cheeks flush, he knew that the look he cast Kandaar must have been self-conscious, to say the least when he murmured, “I have not had a need for anything until now.”

“Oh. Well, then…” Kandaar’s eyes were downcast, but Mithrandos saw the ill-concealed disappointment in them and stilled in indecision. He could not take the chance of hurting Kandaar by going any further without proper preparations, but leaving the room in search for a suitable substance was out of the question, especially in his current state. No, they had to make do with whatever his chamber provided.

His urgent gaze roamed the area until they came to rest upon a particular piece of furniture on the far side of the room.

“Wait…”

Without moving from between his companion’s thighs, Mithrandos held out his hand, palm aimed at his wooden clothes chest positioned against the opposite wall, and the trunk responded promptly. It slid across the hardwood floor and over their haphazardly discarded uniforms until it came to a stop next to the bed, within arm’s reach. A flick of his wrist made the lid flip open and he rummaged around the inside for a moment.

“Ah, here it is.” With a triumphant grin Mithrandos held up a slim flask of grey stoneware that Kandaar instantly recognized. Part of every Guardian’s standard field excursion equipment, the vial contained a very light oil used to protect a warrior’s exposed skin during extreme heat, cold or wind.

Mithrandos wasted no time diverting the contents of the little container from its originally intended use, and soon body parts that would never be exposed to the direct light of the sun were liberally coated with glistening liquid.

Once more, Mithrandos reached between his lover’s legs and Kandaar’s hips jerked at the first contact with those slick fingers. His lips parted, breath quickening, as he turned slightly onto his side and bent one knee to facilitate Mithrandos’ endeavors.

“What…ah…what should I do?” he asked awkwardly.

Mithrandos smiled and kissed the lips that had issued the tentative query. “Naught but relax and enjoy.”

For long minutes, Mithrandos devoted all his attention to gently preparing and stretching the virgin entrance for the next step ahead, and judging from the various sounds of pleasure that emanated from Kandaar, it was quite safe to assume that his lover enjoyed receiving those ministrations as much as Mithrandos enjoyed administering them.

His mouth moved down the scribe’s throat and over the hard topography of his chest, licking and sucking first on one nipple, then on the other. Kandaar arched into Mithrandos’ mouth with a drawn-out groan that made the warrior’s neglected, achingly hard member twitch in response. “Please…”

Mithrandos diverted his mouth from Kandaar’s nipple back up to his lips. ”You may be more comfortable if you turned around,” he breathed against the scribe’s mouth after another drawn-out kiss, but Kandaar was quick to turn down that suggestion.

“What kind of Guardian would I be if I could not withstand a little discomfort?” he gave back. “Besides, it will be well worth it if it means I get to look at you.”

“Very well, then.”

Mithrandos took another moment to look upon Kandaar spread out beneath him, legs splayed, his angular features flushed in anticipation and his face set in an expression of such boundless trust that the captain’s mouth ran dry. He also noted that his lover’s flesh, only so recently spent, had stirred to life yet again, stretched and filled out once more under his probing fingers and heated gaze. It was a beautiful sight, a view Mithrandos wanted to imprint indelibly into his mind, and although he knew that after tonight he would gaze upon his striking companion displayed in this fashion on many more occasions, there was no more precious a memory than this first time.

He ran his hands lovingly along Kandaar’s muscular thighs before he placed his knees over his shoulders and positioned himself at his entrance.

Heat and desire were plain on Kandaar’s face. “Please…keep me waiting no longer,” he whispered hoarsely.

That soft plea was all it took to get Mithrandos going, and thus he passed slowly and carefully through the gates and into the hot, tight haven beyond.

Once fully sheathed, he was motionless for a moment, savoring the exquisite feeling before he gave an explorative thrust, then another one, until Kandaar suddenly hissed.

At once Mithrandos froze, uncertain whether he had unintentionally hurt him, but then Kandaar bucked, his hips nearly lifting off the mattress, and the hazy look in those storm-colored eyes told him that he had instead come upon his lover’s pleasure point. He repeated the motion and allowed himself a smile when Kandaar’s face contorted in an expression of rapture, hot breath coming in short gasps.

In a display of surprising dexterity, Kandaar suddenly reared up on his elbows and seized Mithrandos’ mouth firmly with his own. He pushed his tongue between Mithrandos’ parted lips, and the captain could not stifle an appreciative noise at this very welcome intrusion.

Never breaking the kiss, Kandaar shifted, letting his legs slide from Mithrandos’ shoulders to wrap around his waist. The motion tightened the pressure around the blond Guardian’s shaft and Mithrandos groaned into his lover’s mouth at the increased pleasure.

Kandaar’s renewed hardness slapped against his belly, and Mithrandos shifted the balance of his body slightly so he could reach for it, squeezing gently before he smoothly changed the rhythm of his thrusts to match those of his strokes. Before long, Kandaar was writhing under him, his hips undulating in an effort to both push into Mithrandos’ fist and bury the warrior deeper within him at the same time.

For many long heartbeats they rocked together in a cadence of pleasure and increasing abandon as time, duty, and the world outside the small chamber ceased to have meaning.

Much too soon, however, Mithrandos’ rhythm began to falter when the liquid fire pooling in his loins signaled him the inevitable. “Kandaar, I…”

“Yes.” Passion-darkened eyes the color of thunder clouds fixed on him, expectant, eager. “Make me yours.”

Mithrandos was only dimly aware of Kandaar taking over the duty of his by now shaking hand when his eyes fluttered shut of their own accord as the spasms of his release washed over him with an unbridled intensity that made all the colors of the rainbow dance behind his closed lids.

He heard his own voice cry out, felt Kandaar’s body shudder in response before his trembling arms gave out and he fell forward, barely registering the renewed wetness on his lover’s stomach. Kandaar’s arms came around him, ragged breathing matching his own.

Spent and motionless, Mithrandos lay in the other man’s embrace, his face pressed into the juncture of Kandaar’s neck and shoulder to feel the pulse there beating wildly against his lips. He pressed a kiss against the throbbing vein, tasting slightly salty skin, before he shifted, taking his weight off Kandaar to mold himself against his companion’s side instead. Their hands found each other and their fingers interlaced.

Kandaar turned his head, the grey eyes Mithrandos had come to love sparkling in the moonlight.

“I never fathomed it could feel like this to be one,” he said dreamily before a small grin appeared at the corners of his mouth. “I will certainly be reminded of you every time I sit down at my desk tomorrow.”

“I did not hurt you, I hope?” Mithrandos’ gaze searched his lover’s face, but Kandaar’s smile didn’t waver.
”On the contrary! Can we do it again?”

“Aye, once I will be able to raise my head,” the captain said with mock-weariness. “Any head.”

Kandaar’s chuckle was infectious, and they shared a moment of light-hearted laughter. Then Mithrandos raised himself up on one elbow, reaching out to trace the path of Kandaar’s lower lip with one finger. “But in matters of lovemaking between companions, the giving and taking should be on equal terms.” He brushed his lips across the hollow of the scribe’s throat. “So any time you wish to make it equal, I shall be here - and looking forward to it.”

The emotions that flittered across Kandaar’s face at this intimation were myriad, but surprise and instant desire were among the most prominent. He reached out to brush a slightly damp blond strand of hair from Mithrandos’ temple and whispered, “I would like that. Very much. Indeed, I wish naught more than to love you, whether it be with my heart or my body – until the end of my time.”

Mithrandos gazed at his lover, stunned by this straightforward declaration, for he knew that Kandaar meant every word. With his heart seemingly expanding in his chest, he said, “You speak of a big commitment, love, therefore I should warn you beforehand: You may tire of me eventually, for I am not an easy person to be with. I have some bad habits.”

Kandaar simply shrugged. “We all do.”

“Some days, gloom overtakes me and I retreat within myself, shut out the world.”

“Then I shall wait until you re-emerge. I am patient.”

“I have been told that I am too much of a soldier and not enough of a civilian, that often I take my Guardian duties too seriously.”

“And there is truth in those words, aye. But if loving one’s vocation is a fault, then I am guilty of the same offense, for I can assure you already that there will be days when you will have to all but pry me away from my desk in the Hall of Records.”

“I am also terrible at drawing.”

“Good. Then I need to fear no competition.”

Happily disarmed by Kandaar’s skillful refutation of every one of his arguments, all that was left for Mithrandos to do was to give a resigned smile and settle back into the curly-haired Guardian’s embrace, pulling the coverlet over them both in the same motion. Warm and comfortable, his eyes rapidly growing heavy, he relaxed his head into the crook of Kandaar’s shoulder.

“Well, there is one virtue I possess that may balance out my other flaws,” he murmured sleepily against the scribe’s skin while his fingers drew lazy, indistinct patterns across Kandaar’s chest.

“And that would be, pray tell?” The amusement was audible in Kandaar’s query.

“I love you.”

Kandaar’s identical reply was cut off when he swallowed his own declaration of devotion with a searing kiss that left Mithrandos enveloped in warmth and love the likes of which he had never known before. And thus, as he partook of his scribe’s soft lips for the last time that night, he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the spirits of The Light for the new bond that had been formed between them.

Earlier, they had fallen onto the mattress as fervent lovers; but now, as they lay entwined among the soft pillows and quilt, they succumbed to sleep as truly committed companions, for tonight their spirits had joined as irrevocably as their bodies had.

Outside, the serene rain continued to fall.

THE END