Stallion Mage: True Mates: Mpreg Romance

by AO Spade

  Elder Mastok shook his head vigorously. "Not wrong. Just highly unusual. Unique," he said, and began carefully looking through the leaves with their images and markings.

  The unmistakable stride of the leader made them both look up. Laren came around the partition.

  With a frustrated sigh, the Elder stood up, letting the leaves fall closed. "Please, Laren. We must be allowed to have a conversation alone. Could you-"

  But Alvarr knew this was the time to talk to the leader. "No, Elder," the mage said, also rising. He was relieved to find his feet steady underneath him. "I need to talk to Laren. It might as well be now."

  "I suppose," Elder Mastok said. He glared at the leader. "Say your piece and leave. Do not upset him. Alvarr needs peace and rest."

  When the Elder retreated, Alvarr stood toe to toe with the tribe leader. He took a quick breath. Laren said he cared for me, even if we aren't mates. That has to be worth something. "Laren, I need to tell you something," he said. "I must ask you to discipline two stallions," he said. Good. His voice came out strong and confident.

  The leader's forehead furrowed. "What?"

  Alvarr had been hoping Laren would know who he was talking about, but the leader's confusion was painted on his face. I am going to have to explain it to him.

  The mage's heart pounded, and his hands clenched and released with an attack of nerves. Stop it. You're only going to tell him the truth, something you should have done seasons ago. Still, though, Alvarr knew Laren would not welcome what he had to say.

  "Since I crossed over, for an entire year, I have been bothered by Thane and Nassor." Just the names made his throat grow tight, but Alvarr made himself speak. "You know they have made trouble, before. Fighting." When the leader gave a short, tight nod, he continued. "Perhaps you do not know, but they have come close to... attacking me." He shuddered, imagining Nassor's great weight on his back.

  "They have chased me into the woods multiple times, using their size to... intimidate and harass me."

  "I see."

  "They have claimed to want to..." Alvarr swallowed, unable to speak the words. "They have called me little mare and pressed me with their attention. Even though the Time of Mating is over, they still don't leave me alone. This can't go on, Laren. I've made it clear that I don't want their attention. As leader, only you can discipline them and make them stop."

  There. He had done it. And Alvarr was heartened by how the leader looked thoughtful, then resolute.

  "This is a serious matter," the leader said. "I agree, it must be dealt with."

  He is going to put an end to it. Alvarr sighed in pure relief. He would no longer have to fend off those two. Laren would take care of it. "Thank you," he said.

  But Laren frowned again. "Have you asked them to stop?"

  What? "Of course I have," the mage said. "Many times. They have not listened; in fact, they chased me back here just today. The only reason they left was because they couldn't hold their man-shapes in the healing tent. Elder Mastok had to lead them away."

  Laren nodded slowly, his firm lips pressed together in a line. "If your words are not enough, you must stand up for yourself in other ways," he said.

  Alvarr felt as though he had been struck by a rock. Did Laren not understand? "They are bullies, Laren. They find pleasure in tormenting me. Whatever I do or say has no effect. They won't leave me alone." How could the leader tolerate this in his tribe?

  The leader's face was unreadable. "As you say, you are not a mare. You are a stallion," Laren said. "But you have let them chase you and bother you. It is what bullies do. Nothing I say or do can change their natures."

  Too stunned to speak, Alvarr could only listen as Laren went on.

  "They will never leave you alone unless you do something different." he said. "I could intervene, but it would not hold, and they might rebel against me." He shook his head, as though shaking away a stray thought. "If you keep running away, they will keep chasing, just as the predator-bird hunts creatures in the grass."

  He had visions of himself lashing out against Thane and Nassor, and the earth equivalent of Alvi's storm happening. I could destroy the earth. Alvarr felt sick to his stomach.

  Laren had failed him, and the tribe. He had cast aside his duties as leader. You are not who I thought you were. Shaking, Alvarr turned away from the leader, letting his hair slide over his cheek to hide his face. "If it were anyone else, you'd have put a stop to it," he said bitterly. "But because it's me, you won't." Was it because they had mated? Or because he was a mage? Either way, Alvarr didn't want to hear it. He just wanted to be left alone.

  "Leave," he said flatly, sitting back down on his pallet.

  "You must understand," Laren began.

  Alvarr lay on his side, away from the leader. "Leave me," he said again. "Now."

  And Laren did.

  A moment later, he heard the light footfalls of Elder Mastok approach. "If I could knock his thick head into the ground, I would," the old man said. He stroked Alvarr's hair away from his face. "He has shamed the tribe with his cowardice."

  "He doesn't understand that I cannot use magic to defend myself," Alvarr said. "It is not a weapon." He felt the weight of his words press down on him like a cold layer of clouds. "I'm on my own when it comes to those two. Then again, I always was. At least Barron's a friend, now."

  He sat up and drew his knees to his chest. "I wish I knew why they keep bothering me. Is it my magic? My small size?"

  "They are out of control," the Elder agreed, "but in some ways, they cannot help themselves." He picked up a long lock of Alvarr's reddish hair. "They are drawn to the prospect of life. Now, more than ever."

  "Because my magic can help them."

  The old man gave the mage a steady look. "You cannot see it, but you shine like a star. Even in this time of distress, you glow."

  I suppose he means I am healthy. I should be thankful.. Still, Alvarr's heart had no room for gratitude. There was only bitterness at his leader's betrayal. That will be the last time I let him close. "What do you think I should do about Nassor and Thane?"

  "For the time being, I want you to stay close. Do not go back to your dwelling." The Elder urged the mage to lie back down. "It pains you to shift to four-legs, yes?"

  Oh, yes. "It makes me sick and dizzy," Alvarr said. "Especially today."

  "I hope that will pass," the Elder said. "For now, shift only when you need to graze, and take me or Elder Pastor with you at all times."

  The mage yawned, hit with a wave of exhaustion. "I'm sleeping so much these days," he said, fighting his eyes' desire to close. "Do you know why?"

  "It is a hard time for you," the Elder told him. "Between the journey, the land, and your condition, fatigue is to be expected."

  My condition? Alvarr should be in the best condition of his life. He alone had gotten good food, and he knew that his legs had become stronger from the long journey. "I am healthy, Elder. Aren't I?"

  Elder Mastok smiled. "Yes, and thank Nature for that." The old man moved away. "You rest, and I will be studying more of the leaves that you brought me. We will talk more when you awaken."

  I've done nothing but rest, the mage thought, but when he closed his eyes, he found himself dreaming almost immediately.

  His dream self was standing ankle-deep in a warm sunlit pond. I've been here before. It was where he had met Laren during the last dream.

  He looked up, expectant, and the leader came toward him, smiling. As though it was normal, he bent his head and gave the mage a brief press of lips in greeting, then stood at Alvarr's side so their shoulders were touching. "You've done wonders here," he said, looking at the many plants growing around the edge of the pond.

  Some of them, Alvarr had never seen before, but his dream-self did not seem surprised. He bent down and plucked a stem of flowers as blue as the sky. "These have lasted the season," he said, "though their scent has faded."

  Laren's eyes crinkled at the edges as he smiled, and his hair gleamed in plac
es where the sun struck silvered strands. Alvarr realized that this version of the leader was older.

  "We've come so far," the leader said, putting an arm around the mage's waist. "I expect Fara helped with this."

  "Yes," Alvarr said, trailing his bare foot through cool water. "She has been a great asset, holding the weather off."

  "She is showing leadership," Laren said.

  "Don't start that," the mage said. "She is drawn to the fields, working her power over the wind and clouds." Playfully, he kicked a spray toward Laren's legs. Beneath the surface, tiny fish darted. So much life has returned in such a short time.

  "I still can't believe I sired a mage," Laren said.

  Alvarr's dream-self just laughed. "That's what you get," he said, and put his arm around Laren's waist. Around their feet, flat leaves grew over the surface of the water, and buds slowly rose up and unfolded into many-petaled flowers.

  Laren watched the progress for a moment, then touched his mouth to the side of Alvarr's head. "I suppose it can't be helped. I chose a mage mate."

  Alvarr blinked awake. Once again, it was full dark, but he saw the flickering of Elder Mastok's forbidden torch. No doubt, the Elder was trying to uncover more knowledge. This time, though, Alvarr had knowledge of his own. The events in his dream were surely the workings of his imagination, but the message of his mind couldn't be denied.

  Laren will become my true mate. Perhaps he already is.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A Startling Discovery

  ALVARR ROSE FROM his pallet and silently walked toward the faint orange glow, and the silhouette of the old man bent over something in his lap.

  "Elder?" Alvarr called quietly.

  Elder Mastok looked up and stood. He put his hand on Alvarr's forehead. "How are you feeling, young mage?"

  "Elder, can we talk?"

  "Of course."

  Alvarr sat on the ground next to a small pile of dry wood with its center ablaze. Though it was small, the flame cast an intense heat over his skin. The mage scooted away. "Elder," he said, "how do you have the knowledge of fire?"

  "It is one of the gifts of age," the Elder said. "Elder Pastor taught me when it was time. I taught Sevan." He passed his hand just over the flame. "Younger stallions -- and mares, too, I imagine -- cannot be trusted with knowledge such as this. And they have no need of it."

  Alvarr wanted to grab the Elder's hand and force it away from the flickering orange glow. "I certainly don't," he said. There was so much about the world he didn't understand.

  "What troubles you, Alvarr?" the old man said, finally taking his hand away.

  "I had a dream," Alvarr said. He watched the pattern of flames move on the ground.

  "Go on, young mage."

  Already, the details of the dream were fading. But he held on to the truth of its center. "It was of the future. I was somewhere else, somewhere beautiful, with plants I did not know. Laren met me there. We talked about someone, a mare-mage that we both knew. And Laren said something about choosing a mage mate. And, he meant me." The mage swallowed. "I am that mage mate, or at least I was in the dream."

  "Which do you think it is?"

  Alvarr took a deep breath. "Laren is my mate." The mage said it plainly, with neither hope nor anger. It was just a fact. The truth of it settled behind his heart. He was relieved at speaking the words out loud, and having a witness. Whatever happened, he now knew that it wasn’t his imagination.

  The Elder sighed and retrieved the hollow stones to make the restorative drink. With a blunt rock, he started crushing dried herbs. To Alvarr's eyes, the stones suddenly looked crude and half-formed. The old camp probably had much better tools. As an earth mage, could Alvarr shape stone? He found himself reaching for his power, only to find that same curious locked feeling.

  Elder Mastok paused in his grinding. "What is it?"

  "I still can't access my power," the mage said. "It has been like this for a while. I try to channel it, but it feels like a stream that has been blocked, or a cave that has been walled off. I can tell it's there, but I have no way of getting to it. I'm worried that I won't be able to use it when I need to."

  Elder Mastok's face creased with concern. He looked down, as though trying to figure out what to say. "I'll just fetch some water from the stream." He took both stones and shuffled toward the back exit of the tent.

  Alvarr waited in the orange glow, listening to the faint crackling of the fire. Elder Mastok knew something. While Alvarr trusted the Elders, was having only three keepers of the tribe's knowledge dangerous? What if they all perished because of romeya or something else?

  They were old; while the mage didn't want to think about them dying, it would happen, as it happened to all of them. And who will be the Elders then?

  Elder Mastok came back and handed one of the stones to Alvarr. "Drink this." A fleeting expression of concern passed over his aged face, but he nodded. "I don't believe it will do you harm."

  Alvarr didn’t understand; he had consumed it before with no ill effects. "Why would it harm me?"

  "Because..." The Elder slowly lowered himself to the ground next to the mage. "You are a rare stallion."

  He means my magic. "Do mare-mages drink it?"

  "That is an excellent question," the old man said heavily. "Unfortunately, we have no way of knowing."

  Alvarr cautiously took a sip. The flavor of the tough, dried leaves was strange and turned his stomach. He set it aside.

  "Your mother may know what I do not," the Elder said.

  "I need a healer?" Alvarr said, alarmed. He raised his chin and looked steadily into the darkness. “Just tell me, Elder. If there is something wrong with me, I deserve to know.” Perhaps his time outside the camp had poisoned him, and he was slowly dying. If that were the case, he hoped he would not be a burden.

  Elder Mastok peered at the mage from beneath his white eyebrows.

  Alvarr’s stomach twisted like a knotted vine. After all he had done for the tribe, he imagined that he’d be rewarded with some incurable condition, something that would kill him.

  "Young mage,” the Elder said, “I believe you are with foal."

  Alvarr laughed. He didn’t really know why; the laugh just escaped out of him. But it couldn’t be true. It was absurd. “Elder, are you joking?” He must be joking.

  But the Elder’s expression remained serious.

  The mage looked at himself, trying to imagine his stomach rounded. Impossible. I am no mare. “Elder,” Alvarr said gently, “you know that I am a stallion. I cannot bear foals. It would be impossible.” How could the Elder have come to this conclusion, which was so very wrong?

  “That’s where I believe you’re mistaken, young mage.” The old man held up a finger. “Just wait right there.” He shuffled over to where he had been studying the bundles of leaves that Alvarr had brought.

  With foal? The mage looked at his thin male body and incredulous amusement rose up in him. What could have convinced the Elder so strongly that he ignores the fact that I am a stallion? Alvarr put his hand over his stomach. No, there was nothing in there. No foal. No child. He would know.

  “I know it seems odd, but I want you to look at this,” the Elder said. He opened to a leaf that showed a simple likeness in the style of the cave.

  A stallion reared on hind legs, brown-red like Alvarr himself. But it wasn’t just the rounded belly that drew Alvarr’s attention; all around his hooves, flowers and grass grew. And from his forehead spiraled a horn.

  “That is another stallion mage,” Alvarr murmured.

  “Yes, exactly!” Elder Mastok said, clasping Alvarr’s hand. “I always sensed you were different, and finding this proves it.”

  Alvarr looked at the old man, still unable to accept the Elder’s reasoning. “Elder, we don't know if this stallion is with foal, or just round in the stomach.“ Though he had to admit that it was a relief to see another horned stallion. I may be the only one alive now, but there have been more like me.

&n
bsp; “Even if there were stallions with foal in ancient times, it doesn’t mean that I am. You have no way of knowing.” He gestured at the picture. “And having likenesses of the ancients doesn’t..”

  Alvarr wrapped his hair around his wrist. “What if this is just a story, like the ones our mothers tell to us as foals?” He didn’t want to argue, but it just seemed more likely than the Elder’s explanation.

  Elder Mastok nodded once, slowly. “I see. Do you not want this to be true?”

  The mage rubbed his stomach. If it were true, he would guard his foal with his life. He remembered that foal he healed, the one who had wandered so far from the mares’ territory, and Alvarr’s own determination that the foal should live, even at the cost of his own life.

  It’s more that I am afraid to hope, he realized. A foal would be a miracle, something he never thought he would have. But times are so hard. Would a foal be able to survive in this blighted land?

  The Elder must have sensed his conflict. “Young mage,” he said softly, “Nature has granted you power beyond an ordinary earth mage. This cannot be denied. Nature has already changed your body beyond our understanding.” With worn fingers, he pressed the center of Alvarr’s forehead. “I believe you were sent to us to heal the tribes. If any stallion can get with foal, it is you.”

  “My existence has a purpose,“ Alvarr said slowly. “I have always known that. Mages serve. They work Nature's will through them.“

  “That is known, yes.“

  “But that is my life. What purpose would a foal have?” Alvarr whispered. He did not want his foal, if it were true, to have some greater purpose. He wanted all children to live healthy, happy lives. It was too hard to be different.

  “Time will tell,” the Elder said. “If I am mistaken, and you are not with foal, we will have to search for what ails you. We will know, soon enough.”

  ”Does anyone else know?” Alvarr asked.

  The old man gave him a thoughtful look. ”If it is true, that information is yours to give, not mine.”