A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed! I was surprised I got so much. :) But it was a nice surprise. Not like when I came home one day and my duck was dead (to clarify, I used to have a pet duck). :( Anyway, if you guys are ever bored, feel free to draw the characters of Boy Bride. I'd love seeing your artwork, as mine sucks socks. ;) I might trade you writing for it. Maybe...it all depends on my schedule and what you want. But I probably could.

Warning: M-preg. Got a problem with that? It will be mentioned, but probably won't happen for a while yet. I'm sorry, but I like m-preg. It's one of my guilty pleasures. ;P I just think that little maternity bump is sooo cute! And now I sound like a spazz. Not that I'll have one of my own for a long, long while -- I just like rubbing other people's pregnant tummies.

Boy Bride: Chapter Four

Recap:

“You bought me a male slave!?” And the Höðr palace quaked like Thor’s hammer striking the sky.

Surprisingly enough, the boy sleeping on the bed didn’t stir once in reaction to Leonhart’s shout. He only scrunched up his small face slightly, pinching his lips together, before curling into himself once more. Leonhart glared at him, completely ignoring the part of his mind that noted his cuteness, and turned back to Myrddin, who looked completely unfazed as well.

“Yes, I bought you a male slave, though slave is such a harsh term. I’d like to think of him as the newest member of our little family,” he said, as if what he said was completely natural, as if Leonhart was the one who held the fault, his tone slightly accusing. The Alpha, in reaction, narrowed angry grey eyes, nostrils flaring as he took a step closer to the small wizard.

“No, he is not! He is something that you are going to return immediately, because I will not have my reputation tarnished by a...by a...by a whore of all things,” he hissed, angry at the prospect. Myrddin, in return, looked not only offended, but hurt; an emotion Leonhart rarely witnessed on his manipulative face. He looked like Leonhart had just slapped him in the face after viciously devouring Nana.

“How could you call him that? Jibriel is not a whore! He is a sweet kid, and I can’t send him back. He has nowhere to go. I bought him from a cruel, mercenary slaver who kidnaped him after slaughtering his entire family!” The wizard’s voice was soft, he almost sounded tearful, and Leonhart felt surprised and ashamed. He hadn’t known about the boy’s past, and he couldn’t send him back now that he’d heard it. He felt anger course through him, with himself and with the mercenary, and swore silently to make sure such an injustice wouldn’t happen again. He couldn’t stop what happened in Njord, it wasn’t his kingdom, but he could try to negotiate with the Merchant King enough to make sure no one could be taken into servitude against their own will. And he could punish the mercenaries who had killed the boy’s people, especially their leader. But that was for later, now he had something else to worry over.

Turning back to the sleeping boy, he took a step into the room and took the opportunity to just stare at him. The boy had skin darker than anyone in Höðr, perhaps even darker than the Islanders, but it lovely to look at. A rich, honey color that looked smooth and soft to the touch, and was lightly muscled, but not the sort of bulky muscle acquired from battle. His hair and lashes were an ethereal shade of silver, as if some immortal entity had plucked apart the moon, strand by strand, just so this boy could look like an angel. And his lips, in contrast to his rich skin, were a pale, ruby-like red color, like the petals of a rose. Oh, what those lips could do, if given the right opportunity...

Leonhart felt his cheeks heating, and immediately turned away, coughing into his fist. Myrddin gazed at him with a smug expression, his mischievous lips stretched out into a wide smirk. His previous expression of sadness was completely gone.

“You like what you see, Leonhart?” He stretched the Alpha’s name out as if it was the punch-line to some hilarious joke, something that Leonhart felt highly insulting, but was unable to deny. He glared at the wizard.

“No, I don’t ‘like what I see!’ I’m just appalled at the sort of garments you’ve given him,” he reasoned, face still flushed. Myrddin frowned, but had to assent. He had dressed the boy to impress, and it certainly appeared to be working. It had been just like dressing up a doll, something he hadn’t done since his first lifetime, and Jibriel had been very complacent.

The outfit itself, a nightgown of some sort, was composed of sheer, black lace, ribbons of white silk tied at the throat and along the back to keep the gown from falling apart. It made Myrddin smirk and Leonhart flush when thinking of how a simple ribbon kept the sleeping boy from complete nudity. Not that he wasn’t nude enough already. The gown was short, only coming a short way below the waist, and exposed bare, hairless legs. The Alpha could only find relief in the fact that the gown hadn’t lifted too much.

“I think his dress is pretty,” the wizard stated, pouty voice finally drawing Leonhart’s attention away from his not-so-proper thoughts, and he flushed again, cursing the pale complexion he had inherited from both previous rulers of Höðr. Myrddin smiled a Cheshire-cat smile, reaching up to tug at the current ruler’s cheek, only to have the hand smacked away.

“Where did you even get such a thing?” the Alpha asked, opting to use his angry voice, while Myrddin rubbed his bruised hand irritably.

“Why, it’s from Nana, of course,” Myrddin replied, as if it had been obvious, still stroking his injured hand, and completely ignored Leonhart’s gaping expression as the Alpha stuttered disbelievingly.

“F-from...Nana!? You can’t be serious!” he shouted, exasperated, and Myrddin gazed up at him innocently, but Leonhart could see a manipulative gleam in the large green eyes, partially hidden by the wizard’s owlish lenses.

“Of course I’m serious. Why wouldn’t I be? It came straight from Nana’s wardrobe,” he said, nonchalant. In response, Leonhart felt his cheeks heating, not only from his own embarrassment, but for Nana’s.

“Why would you take Nana’s clothes? I bet you didn’t even ask, you accursed Wizard,” he accused, and Myrddin scowled, shifting uneasily for a second, before offering the Alpha a blank gaze.

“So what if I didn’t ask? Nana won’t mind because she doesn't even use this, and Jibriel really needed clothes. Mine are too small, and yours are too big. His own clothes were torn from being dragged around by a sadist,” he said, obviously trying to guilt the current leader into taking some of the blame when he mentioned to Nana exactly why her clothes were missing, not that the woman would mind. In fact, both Myrddin and Leonhart were quite sure the old nurse would be delighted at the prospect of having someone to baby, as the boy did seem quite young. That thought gave birth to another one, and Leonhart berated himself for not asking earlier.

“Myrddin?” he asked in a calm, though slightly suspicious tone. The wizard stared up at him in confusion. “Exactly how old is...our little companion?”

The question was an appropriate one. The boy barely looked out of childhood; his face still round with baby-fat, and his eyes, too, though currently closed, were way too large to be the hardened eyes of a man. Myrddin answered as if none of that could be taken into account.

“Jibri is almost sixteen,” the wizard answered lightly, unaware of Leonhart’s disgusted expression.

“He’s almost sixteen, and you brought him here to what? Seduce me? Myrddin, he’s only a child!” he stated, face twisted in disgust. Now, Myrddin looked upset, as if it were Leonhart who had implied something immoral.

“Sixteen is the age of adulthood in his homeland, and besides, you were about that age when you completely took over all of the affairs of Höðr. Surely that must count for something?” he asked. The Alpha, in return, was quick to deny it, scattering Myrddin’s words with a wave of his hand.

“That’s different,” he answered vaguely, upsetting Myrddin even more.

“Exactly how is that different?” the smaller male asked, crossing his arms over his chest like a tantrum-throwing child, and raising a brow in indignation. Leonhart remained silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, and Myrddin thought he might remain that way forever.

“It’s different because...” the Alpha began, then paused again, staring down at the floor as if it held all the answers, and Myrddin waited not-so-patently, tapping his small, booted foot against the floor. Finally, the Alpha responded, his voice soft. “It’s different because I was torn from childhood at such a young age, barely more than a toddler, but I wasn’t alone, in a land full of strangers, all of whom might hurt me. I can’t mate with him, Myrddin, he probably doesn’t even want that. He isn’t old enough to want that!”

To Leonhart’s surprise, after it had been he who flushed so much during the course of the conversation, Myrddin flushed, turning his eyes to the floor in embarrassment.

“You can’t believe that I only brought him here for that, can you? Do you really think me so heartless? I know he’s only a child, heck, to me everyone is only a child, but I also know what the prophesies tell me,” he said, dragging his eyes back to the Alpha, and Leonhart was surprised to find the sheer emotion sparkling within them, not all of it happy. “He can help you, help Höðr. Leonhart, from what the Fates tell me, you two being together is destined.”

To say Leonhart was surprised would be an understatement. Sure, he’d found the boy instantly attractive, but destined? He’d never had reason to doubt Myrddin’s magic before, everyone else believed it was true, and he’d seen the evidence of it himself, but he couldn’t believe it now.

“You’re lying,” he hissed suddenly, pulling away from Myrddin who had taken his arms to look into his eyes. The wizard’s eyes widened, shocked by Leonhart’s instant denial, and at the clipped, no nonsense tone the Alpha had used.

“Why would I lie about that, Leonhart? You know my magic is real,” he urged, frown deepening. But the ruler of Höðr shook his head wildly, displacing wavy brown locks.

“It’s all smoke and mirrors,” he told the wizard, by way of explanation, waving his hand slightly before turning to leave the room. “And I’ve never believed in it. Never.”

That surprised Myrddin, and he took a weak step back into the room, watching Leonhart walk away. The Alpha didn’t even turn back. A while after the man was gone, maybe a few minutes, though it felt longer, Myrddin sank to his knees on the floor.

“All smoke and mirrors, is it? Is it because of smoke and mirrors that they called me a demon? Is it because of smoke and mirrors that my pregnant mother was almost beaten to death by her own father? Is it because of smoke and mirrors that I was almost sacrificed at an alter, just for my magic blood? Was it because of smoke and mirrors that I had these horrible prophesies, predicting the death of my only friend, perhaps even the only person I’ve ever loved? Because if it was, then I have no reason to be here, no reason to even be alive...” the wizard seethed, beginning to slam his fists on the ground, completely ignorant of his surroundings, and didn’t hear the patter of naked feet, or even feel anyone’s presence, until a gentle hand landed on his shoulder.

“Lord Myrddin?” a voice cautioned wearily, gently. Myrddin turned teary eyes to gaze at Jibriel, looking sleep mussed, but alert, his eyes a light caramel color, as soothing as the sweet. “Are you alright?”

The wizard nodded his head, too quickly to be truthful, and ran the arm of his long robe along his wet face.

“I’m fine, little Jibri. How long have you been up?” he asked. The boy flushed slightly, looking guilty, and anxiously nibbled on his lower lip.

“For a while now. I am sorry for not saying anything, but I did not want to interrupt,” he whispered, looking shy. Myrddin nodded his head absently in response, lifting himself off the carpeted floor with Jibriel’s help.

“Did you hear much?” he asked distractedly. It wouldn’t really bother him if the boy had, but Jibriel seemed to think the opposite. He flushed again from guilt.

“I tried not to listen, I really did, but I still heard some things,” he answered, regretful. He fisted his delicate hands together into the front of the garment, lifting it slightly, and a vengeful Myrddin wished Leonhart was still there, and he couldn’t help but smile. Jibriel, noticing the slight quirk of his lips, smiled too in relief. Everything soon became less strained between the two, and they both took a seat on the bed.

“So...” Myrddin began suddenly, sliding green eyes to Jibriel in interest. The boy stared back with confused golden eyes. “What did you think of Leonhart, dear old Alpha of Höðr?”

Jibriel gave the question appropriate thought, pressing a finger to his chin cutely in wonderment. He smiled slightly, giving Myrddin hope that at least he would listen to him.

“He reminds me of Hamza, my fiancé,” he said, half cheerful, locked in remembrance. At that, Myrddin abruptly fell out of his seat, gaping up at the still seated boy in shock. Jibriel went on speaking, not noticing the fallen Myrddin, a light flush of pleasure spread out along his cheeks. “He was a little like your Leonhart. He did not trust anyone, was as fierce as a beast, but he was very kindhearted. A good man.”

His voice saddened along the last word. He wouldn’t see Hamza ever again, so what was the point of talking about him? Hamza was with the Mother now, Goddess of all, and he had to trust that she would protect her fallen child, even if he himself could not.

“Wait...you’re engaged!?” Myrddin’s surprised voice cut through his own melancholy, and he saw that the wizard was picking himself off the floor. His mouth was still gaping and he looked a little out of breath. Jibriel wondered why he sounded so surprised.

“Of course. Why does this surprise you? Am I very unattractive?” he asked, and the actual worry in his tone broke the rapidly tensing atmosphere, causing Myrddin to laugh. After a small while, Jibri offered a slight smile too.

“No! No, nothing like that. You’re very beautiful, Jibriel, I’m only curious that you should marry so young?” he mused, and the boy flushed again, this time from pleasure at Myrddin’s compliment, offering the wizard a larger smile.

“I am almost an adult amongst my people, certainly not a child. My mother spoke with the Goddess, and received a vision saying that I should marry a man of Hamza’s qualities, and I have always liked his heart, so there were not any objections. I was to marry him after my sixteenth year, which is coming up rather quickly, but I suppose I will not be having that joy any longer,” he sighed, suddenly depressed. Myrddin climbed back on the bed, and began rubbing the boy’s shoulders soothingly, though opting to remain silent. “I so looked forward to starting a family with Hamza, but the Goddess did not bless that fortune for us, I suppose.”

Myrddin’s curiosity, upon hearing everything the boy had to say, was rightfully piqued. He had never heard of any traditions similar to that of the Southern people’s, and he couldn’t keep the questions bubbling within him to himself. Thankfully, Jibriel was a very patient listener, and answered as best as he could.

“So, not only does your clan allow marriage between people of the same gender, your men can have heirs!?” he asked, unable to hide his excitement at the thought, and Jibriel, though confused, answered valiantly.

“We have always allowed such marriages. The Goddess, Mother to all, breeds happy children, allowing love in all forms. But, sadly, only the blessed can conceive a child, though you can always acquire children from different means. Motherhood is the honor of honors amongst my people, and raising a child, any child, is a gift, so many of my tribe adopt foundlings. But my mother promised Hamza and I that the Goddess would bless us. Mother has never been wrong before.”

All through Jibriel’s explanation, Myrddin was lost in thought. Jibriel had said a man of Hamza’s ‘qualities’ would be his husband, not necessarily Hamza himself, and Jibriel had also said Leonhart reminded him of his ex-fiancé. And then there was Myrddin’s vision. The fates, holder of his gift, had told him that Jibriel would be accepted by the Council, and that Leonhart and Jibriel were destined to be. He had found that strange since both were men, but then he’d seen Leonhart’s journal entry, and Jibriel himself had said he was blessed with the ability to bear children. The Council couldn’t object to the relationship if provided with an heir. The solution to all of their problems was so close, within reach, but his other vision troubled him. The one of a shadow descending upon Höðr...

“Lord Myrddin?” Jibriel’s soft voice, almost a whisper, snapped him out of the thoughts of his vision. When he looked up, he found that the boy looked morose; tired, teary, sad. It seemed he had asked way too many still painful questions of the boy. Taking mercy on him, Myrddin took his hand, pressing it to his own lips.

“Why don’t you return to bed, Jibri, love? I have things to think through. Tomorrow we shall do something fun for sure,” he declared, still half silent, but brightening slowly. Jibriel blinked in surprise, but nodded, unable to deny the hold that sleep held on him, and quickly climbed into bed, falling asleep in seconds. Myrddin smiled at the sight, before walking away, heading towards Nana’s chambers in hopes of his beloved friend’s guidance.

A/N: So, what did you think? It'll be a little difficult getting them together. Leon doesn't want to be gay (but he really, really is), and Jibri is madly in love with his ex. Can anyone say drama? I can! Gee, there were so many exclamation points this chapter, which just attests to my comment about drama.

Thanks: Everyone who has read, reviewed, added this to their favorites/story-alerts, or even just read this story. Stay awesome, peeps, stay awesome. Special thanks to my LJ commenters, especially AviatorLisa. She comments all my chapters. :) Love you, Rosie.

Kiki: Is this update fast enough? I hope so. Love you too much to disappoint you willingly. ;)

R&R: Read, relax, review, and enjoy. Seriously, review. I love hearing everything you guys have to say. Some of you are so intuitive. You say things that I don't even realize for the plot. And the rest of you inspire me, so I can update faster. If anyone wants me to take a gander at something they've written, I'd be happy to. I'm always looking for new, well-written reads, but I'd like to hope you read/reviewed my work, too, if you were to ask. I will always try to review in-depthly. But, since we mentioned depth, your reviews have to be a bit in-depth, too. Not just 'update'. Tell me something you liked and/or disliked.