Peridot- War and Peace

by M. D. Grimm

  “Stop that.” I grabbed his wrists as his rubbing began to send sparks to my groin.

  Aishe grinned and leaned forward, kissing me slowly, sensually. My stomach did one long, slow flip before tightening with need. I moaned and pushed into his kiss, loving the taste of him, relishing the warmth he exuded.

  His heat seeped into my skin, wrapping around my bones and banishing the cold that the winter and my memories had brought. But it didn’t last long. Aishe pulled his mouth from mine. Before I could protest, his quick fingers undid the ties of my trousers, and my cock was in his mouth.

  I gasped and gripped his head. I shouldn’t be too shocked -- he’d been doing that since he came home with me, since that first night in my bed. We could be having a nice conversation or just sitting together in silence, and then he’d suddenly jump me. I didn’t mind -- why would I?

  But every time I never expected it; I never got any inkling that his thoughts had strayed to the sexual. Though, my thoughts often strayed in that direction as well, but I had yet to take the initiative.

  His mouth was on fire as he slid me in and out of his mouth, his strong hands squeezing and rubbing my balls.

  His tongue flicked over my shaft, my sensitive tip. I trembled as he drove me higher and my magick churned inside me. My hands began to burn as I struggled to contain the fire that wanted to burst forth. The fire wouldn’t harm anything unless I wanted it to, but I challenged myself to keep it under control. A mage was nothing without control.

  Aishe began to suck harder, and I stared at him, fascinated with his devotion to me.

  I gasped his name when I came, and my body tightened, my magick struggling to come loose. I held it in and fell back into the chair, limp and slightly dizzy. Aishe slipped his mouth farther up my body. He undid the latches that kept my jacket closed and skimmed his lips up my stomach to my chest, lightly licking my nipples.

  I wrapped my arms around him, cradling him to my chest. I kissed the top of his head. He snuggled closer and we stayed like that for a short while, just enjoying the feel of each other. Intimacy was still new to me, but I strove to overcome my initial discomfort. I wanted to be intimate with Aishe -- and he with me.

  “Can we go into Happy Valley?” Aishe suddenly asked.

  I blinked, horribly confused. I struggled to get my brain to work. “Huh?”

  Aishe chuckled and pulled out of my arms, taking away some of the warmth. I frowned at him.

  “I want to go into Happy Valley,” Aishe said, as if this wasn’t an out-of-the-blue request. “I liked the little village when I stayed there. I want to see how they are doing, especially after Kayl.”

  “They’re fine.” I sat up in the chair. “They recover from trauma within minutes. Negativity doesn’t last long in that village.”

  “Why?”

  “Hell if I know,” I admitted.

  “So, can we?” Aishe asked.

  I looked into his hopeful face, knowing I couldn’t deny him anything. “Fine. Since you grow weary of my company, I suppose we can visit them--”

  “Morgorth,” Aishe chided softly. He leaned closer and kissed my softened cock. I swallowed hard.

  “If I was weary of your company,” Aishe said, meeting my eyes, “I wouldn’t love you anymore. And I do. Very much.”

  There would never come a time when I wouldn’t want to hear those words. When I wouldn’t want to see the naked love and desire in those expressive eyes. Or hear my name spoken in those deep, gentle tones.

  “Okay.” I smiled slightly. “I was just being grouchy.”

  “I know.” Aishe grinned. “You’re cute when you’re grouchy.”

  I grimaced. “Really, Aishe? Cute?”

  He laughed.

  “Mages aren’t cute.” I stood up and Aishe leaned back, staring appreciatively at my exposed cock. I quickly retied my trousers, and Aishe stood.

  “My mage is,” Aishe said and kissed my cheek.

  His mage. My stomach tightened.

  “You want to go now?” I asked, re-latching my jacket.

  He nodded. “Fine. But I’m not going as I am.”

  “What do you mean?”

  I walked out of the parlor, and he followed close. “I mean I want a disguise. I don’t need those simpletons gawking at me. It’ll be hard enough for you to go through that village without being followed.”

  Aishe frowned as he followed me down a long hallway on the ground floor. I stopped at the end of the hallway before turning left to a nondescript door. I pushed it open and walked down a flight of narrow steps. It got colder as we descended into the basement of my castle.

  “Why would they follow me?” Aishe asked from behind me.

  “Think about it, Aishe.” We continued to descend the curving staircase, our breath coming out in thick puffs of fog. “How did you leave Happy Valley? You were shooting arrows at a sorcerer, you healed a burned flayn, and then you wandered off with me.”

  I reached the bottom, and what looked like a solid wall met my eyes. It was dark down here, but my eyes had gradually adjusted as we walked down the stairs. I held out my hand and pressed it against the wall before pushing gently. A hidden door swung open, and I walked inside.

  With one word, the candles set around the small room were lit and illuminated all the bottles and vials that sat, dusty, on numerous shelves.

  “What is this place?” Aishe asked quietly as he walked in.“My laboratory.” I smiled. “It’s where I keep all my potions.”

  The walls were covered with shelves that were filled with various vials, bottles, jars, and a few boxes, which contained either potions themselves, or the ingredients to make said potions. Everything was labeled and categorized.

  It was vital to be anal retentive with potions -- one mislabel or the wrong dose and you could be in serious trouble.

  On each potion bottle or vial, I had a chart with the exact dosage depending on how long I wanted the potion to last. I also had the date that I made the potion because the longer the potion sat, the stronger it got, and the less I had to use.

  It was all very exact and tidy.

  But it was also dusty. I hadn’t made or used a potion in several years. I saw a few spiders as well and cringed.

  There was a long wooden table set in the center of the room with a large book lying on it. It held all my notes from my initial training with Master Ulezander and those after I had left him.

  “What are all these for?” Aishe asked as he lifted a hand to touch a large bottle labeled, Shift Form: Deer.

  “Don’t touch it!” I snapped. Aishe snatched his hand back and flinched.

  I cringed. “Sorry, Aishe,” I said, gently. “Just... don’t touch anything, okay?”

  Aishe nodded and kept his hands behind his back. I hadn’t meant to jump on him like that, and now I felt like an idiot.

  “Potions are just delicate, okay?” I said. Aishe nodded again, silent.

  I sighed and turned back to the shelf I had been contemplating. I didn’t want to actually shape-shift, which was horribly painful. I just needed a simple illusion potion-- a simple disguise that would keep my true identity hidden from the citizens of Happy Valley. I could create an illusion without a potion, but the potion was simpler.

  Illusions required magick to continually pump into it; potions lasted as long as you kept taking them.

  I grabbed a skinny bottle and looked at the dosage. It was seven years old -- a good age -- and a single tablespoon would make the illusion work until sunset. That was only a few hours from now.

  “Can illusions fool other mages?” Aishe asked.

  “Some can,” I said. “The illusions in Geheimnis will fool all but the most powerful mages. That’s why I don’t rely on them alone. I have traps and other enchantments to keep intruding mages on their toes.”

  “I have noticed.” Aishe chuckled. “You seem to delight in tricking and trapping.”

  I turned back to him, unscrewing the bottle’s top.

  “Would that p
otion fool other mages?” Aishe asked.

  “Yes,” I said, popping the top off. “But the best way to fool a mage is to actually shape-shift into another creature or beast. Some older mages, like Master Ulezander, can even shift without a potion. That takes lots of power, practice, and concentration. And a large pain threshold.”

  “Then how did Kayl see through the invisibility illusion you put on us?” Aishe asked. “The one after we left the Lamia tribe, remember?”

  “I remember.” I still had the nasty scar from that attack -- the one right across my stomach that nearly had my intestines spilling onto the ground.

  “It was the ruby, Aishe,” I said. I found a spoon and slowly tipped the bottle over it. The potion was gelatinous, and I knew it would taste disgusting. “I would have taken disguise potions with us, if I’d thought they would help.

  But it would have been a waste.”

  I topped the bottle again and set it back on the shelf.

  I stared at the spoon and sighed. “This is going to be disgusting.” I swallowed it fast; I gagged but managed to keep it down. It burned my tongue and tasted like rotten eggs.

  I took a deep breath before murmuring a word of magick that activated the potion. Despite the magickal quality of potions, there still had to be a word that turned it on. All magickal work required words, and mages had to make up those words. They meant nothing in any other language; they were only connected to the mage’s will, and they directed the spells.

  I felt the familiar tingling and heating in my stomach, and I looked at Aishe as the potion took hold. The heat spread down my legs and up my arms. My muscles twitched, but there was no pain. The hair on my arms and the back of my neck stood up as the potion worked its way through my bloodstream. I began to sweat slightly and gritted my teeth. I wasn’t in pain, but it was highly uncomfortable. Finally, it settled, and the uncomfortable tingling subsided.

  Aishe’s face throughout the transformation was comical.

  First curiosity, then surprise, then awe. Now he was looking at me with all of them and walked closer to me. He touched my arm, and while I could see myself as I was, he would see me as the potion wanted me to be seen.

  “You’re an old man,” Aishe said. “With gray hair and a bent back. Amazing.”

  I grinned and Aishe leaned back. “Don’t -- don’t do that.

  It makes you look slightly insane.” I cackled and enjoyed Aishe’s cringe. “I don’t know if I can spend time with you like this.”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s still me. Toughen up.”

  “Even your voice is different.” Aishe looked like he might pout.

  “Let’s go, Aishe.” I shook my head.

  We left and walked up the staircase to the ground floor of Geheimnis. I said another word of magick, and my own thick coat appeared in my hand. Aishe grabbed his from where he’d tossed it on the couch and slipped it on. The coats were perfect for the cold we would encounter outside.

  I smiled at Aishe as I slipped mine on -- his coat was a dark green that complimented his eyes, and there was wichtln fur around the collar. The coat fell to just below his knees as he laced the strings in the front. I’d also secretly lined the coat with protective magick, the same kind that lined all my own clothes. They would block most magickal attacks and act as armor against blades and other physical weapons. But any exposed flesh would be fair game.

  Nothing could make us invincible.

  My own coat was black -- of course -- and it was similar in style to Aishe’s. I had the mind to take all of Aishe’s clothes and weave protective magick through the fabric. I didn’t think he would object.

  It wasn’t long before we reached the ominous forest of Vorgoroth. Right now, it looked like a nightmarish winter wonderland. The thick snow crunched beneath our feet, sinking until we were ankle-deep. The gnarly and bent trees that twisted back and forth, looking like they had arms and knobby fingers, were empty of leaves but covered in the first layer of snow. I had been right; while we had been inside it had started snowing. The branches already bent and groaned under the weight of the powder, and I figured the snow would be knee deep soon. I should have the truls clear off some of the paths of snow, at least a little.

  While most visitors would cringe to be in such a place and run off screaming in terror, I found Vorgoroth very soothing. I enjoyed the slightly stuffy air, the gentle creaking of tree branches, the eerie silence that often fell over the land. The rolling hills, snaking rivers, twisting bramble, and overhanging moss were sights I never wanted to stop looking at. This was my home. The home I had chosen for myself.

  The beasts that made Vorgoroth home didn’t hibernate, and so their eyes followed us as we walked down the trail through the forest. The trail zigzagged between the trees, and there were many decoy trails that led off into the dens of beasts or into bogs. The land rose and fell as we walked on. A frozen stream was to our left, and there were some places that the trees were so closely packed together, you felt like you would suffocate. Other places, the trees were sparsely laid, and thick bushes and bramble crept in to the empty spaces. Roots bubbled up from the ground, breaking the dirt and attempting to trip all those who passed by. I was used to the trees’ antics, and every time they attempted to bash me in the head with one of their thick branches, I managed to dodge. They were viciously playful sometimes.

  Aishe was getting used to their play as well and moved even more agilely than me.

  But as Aishe and walked on, I could sense the tension in the truls and morags when they saw Aishe and someone they didn’t recognize. The potion would work on them as well. I nearly did a small spell to assure them that it was me, but I needn’t have bothered.

  Grekel, the wichtln alpha, trotted out of the dense black that permeated the forest and right up to me, his tail bowed in submission. But he and I both knew the score -- if another mage, a more powerful mage came along and offered a partnership, he would turn on me. I just had to reassure him that I was the toughest, and I would be assured of his and his pack’s loyalty.

  At nine feet long from snout to tail, Grekel certainly demanded attention. He was about five feet from paw to shoulder, and his thick coat did not hide the muscles flexing as he moved. His silver fur was slightly grizzled, and I could smell the iron scent of blood as he got closer. He and his pack had just eaten well.

  Aishe shifted closer to me while still standing strong and hiding his fear. I was grateful for his control because while wichtln were intelligent and could speak, they were still predators at heart. Weakness triggered their instincts.

  “You look strange, Master.” Grekel raised his nose high in the air, sniffing. His voice reminded me of crunching gravel -- which actually wasn’t as unpleasant as you might think.

  Grekel’s recognition dissipated the tension of the other beasts, and they wandered off, no longer interested. I listened to their shuffling feet and several snapped branches that were in their way. I chuckled when I heard the trees take revenge on those who had maimed them.

  “We are going to Happy Valley,” I said, knowing Grekel wouldn’t hear my voice, but that of an old man.

  “What delights does that place hold that Vorgoroth does not?” Grekel asked. The eyes of his pack glimmered in the darkness, and while I didn’t feel fear, I did have a healthy respect and wariness of them.

  “We won’t know until we go,” I answered as I scratched his head. His eyes rolled in response, and for a moment, he reminded me of a house pet. But it was gone a second later when his eyes met mine. His bright yellow eyes.

  “I smell a storm coming,” he said when I pulled my hand back. “Make sure you are indoors when it hits.”

  “I will,” I said and walked away, Aishe close by my side.

  He rarely spoke when I conversed with the residents of the forest. He was certainly one who observed and analyzed before jumping in. I would rather he wait -- the residents still didn’t know what to make of him.

  “Have you ever met a wichtln before?” I ask
ed. “Before coming here, I mean?”

  Aishe shook his head as we headed north on the trail encountering no one else. “I have heard stories about them, though. Horrible stories.” He met my eyes. “Are you sure it’s wise to keep them so close? They would not hesitate to rip your head off.”

  I smirked. “Not unless it was in their best interest. I’ve had them at my command for many years, Aishe. I know how they work. I’ve made sure that no better offer is made to them, and they get free rein over Vorgoroth. It’s a good deal.”

  “But for how long?” Aishe murmured.

  I bristled a little. Did Aishe not think me capable of taking care of my own home? Did he doubt my strength?

  My power? After all he’d seen me do...

  “You think I’m not able to take care of myself?” I accused. “You think I’m stupid enough to make an alliance with a species I know nothing about?”

  “I didn’t say you were stupid,” Aishe said in a patient voice. He eyed me. “I’m concerned about you. That’s all.”

  “You shouldn’t be,” I said confidently. “You know I can handle myself. You’ve seen what I can do.”

  “Yes,” Aishe said softly. “I’ve seen you. I’ve not only seen you fling magick around like it was a child’s toy, I’ve seen you fly through the air, quicker than a bird. I’ve seen your shields that deflect anything that could harm you. I’ve also seen your stomach rip open. I’ve seen you near death, and it took all my strength and the strength of a tribe to keep you from crossing over.”

  My mouth went dry, and I stared straight ahead.

  “I’ve seen you open a portal to the underworld and nearly fall into it, after which you passed out for many hours.”

  “I get your point,” I said, feeling uncomfortable.

  “Do you?” Aishe stopped walking, and so did I. He stared at me, his eyes dark and fierce. “Do you understand that I will continue to worry about you, even if you were the most powerful mage in the world? Even if you were immortal, I would still worry. Do you know why?”

  I nodded, my voice lost.

  Aishe inhaled deeply and lowered his eyes. “You’re all I have left. I know your life was different before I came along, and you have your own way of doing things but --”