Mirror Bound

by Kirsten Bij't Vuur

  I said: 'It makes me very happy to see Paul and Lukas together. It'll be difficult for them, they're both used to lead.'

  I was surprised to see Paul so totally at ease before the entire company, leading Lukas through the next three dances. For of course it was Paul who led and Lukas who followed, Lukas was still so shy towards Paul it was unthinkable he'd take the lead already.

  Watching the reaction of our friends, I saw few strange looks. Only my sisters and Paul's parents seemed at all surprised to see the two men dancing intimately, and of course they didn't really know what was going on.

  I must admit my feelings were shaken quite a bit, I experienced a decided heat, as always when observing my two men being intimate, and I was very much touched, nearly to the point of crying. Lukas' admission of loving Paul much more than Paul would ever be able to return, and his brave defiance of his father had moved me enormously, and seeing him in Paul's arms now, totally surrendering himself to his feelings, had me very close to tears.

  It is as if Paul understood and wanted to cheer him up, for after the third dance he led Lukas towards the orchestra, exchanged a few words with its leader, and the music changed towards the style of the dance yesterday, happy and very, very fast.

  This had the young people cheering. Of course Tristan and Ilsa joined the fun, and Julia and Jonas, and Jonathan had convinced Lucy to brave the dance floor

  Marcus was now testing my other sister's stamina, and Frances had ensnared Paul's father, though of course they had known each other for years. He kept up rather well, she was superb, same as yesterday.

  My main focus was on Paul and Lukas of course, and Lukas was flying already. Paul even managed to let him lead, and my admiration for their dancing went up even more, they looked so well together.

  After two more dances, Paul parted from his partner to mingle with the guests, and Lukas asked me to dance with him, before he saw to his father again. It was another slow dance, and as I held Lukas, who was only slightly out of breath, I laid my head on his chest and just enjoyed his strong lead and his musky scent for a few minutes, not trusting myself to speak to him, for I was still so affected by his situation today that I would surely lose my self-control and spill a few tears.

  After those few minutes, he broke the silence: 'I'm so happy Melissa, I don't have to fear my father anymore, and I finally got to dance with Paul. It was wonderful, you know he told me he wanted it as much as I did. I think I was

  mistaken, he does love me as much as you do, he doesn't want to have intercourse with a man, but that is just sex, not love. Imagine him having thought of making a ring for me, similar to the one you both have?'

  That had been a pleasant surprise, for me too. It must have made a huge impression on Lukas, even though his worst nightmare had come true immediately afterwards. Lukas said: 'I've been in fears over my father for weeks, I'm almost relieved he really showed up, for if he hadn't, I would still be so very afraid. You will stay with me when I go sit with him, won't you?'

  I kissed him, and replied: 'I certainly will. We're not going to leave you alone with him.' So I had been wrong, he hadn't been feeling melancholy dancing with Paul. So much the better.

  I knew I needn't be jealous, but I did feel a little left out. Still, we all would at times.

  After the dance we got something to eat and then we sat with Hermes, giving George and my dad the opportunity to party a little themselves.

  Before he left, my father asked Lukas: 'I hope you can forgive me for setting your father free, you know he really couldn't have broken that seal from the inside.

  But I thought he had a right to see you one more time, and Paul told me you were so afraid of him it might ruin your life, always living in fear.'

  Lukas embraced him and said: 'As I said to Paul when he asked exactly the same thing: thank you for freeing me from my own fear. Now I can truly be myself, and when he is back to where he came from I'll feel as free as a bird.'

  This troubled my dad, and he said: 'Lukas, please don't forget that your father is used to being a god, and to be obeyed.

  Your people have set him up to be what he is. Having fallen and proven to be as fallible and mortal as all of us in this place, he may yet change.

  He has felt rejection, failure, and pain, and he is very, very tired now. Maybe he deserves another chance from you?'

  For the second time today I saw unfamiliar expressions in Lukas' features, anger, and distrust, and suddenly I understood my father's own motive in releasing Hermes.

  Lukas had never known those emotions, and my dad wanted him to overcome them before they became part of his character.

  Lukas had taught so many people about love already, and my father wanted him to be able to continue to do so, but for that Lukas needed to be his best

  self, without our human shortcomings.

  Of course Hermes had those all too human traits as well, he had proved it to us today by the things he had said to Lukas, the threats he had delivered to the sweetest person I had ever known.

  And I think my dad wanted Hermes to be the next person to be taught about love by his own son, making him a better man and a better ruler through his experience here on our world.

  I had always liked my dad, but now I could really admire him as well. He seemed much more than just a factory worker, more than just a mage even.

  Paul's parents had proven themselves so petty and shallow, even though they were fabulously rich and very influential. My dad rose above all that, and I was so proud of him I hugged him closely and asked him to let himself be introduced to Paul's parents by Paul himself.

  Maybe he could sow some benevolent thoughts with them as well, see if they might show some real, honest interest in their deserving son. My dad promised, and left for the party.

  Chapter 51

  Lukas and I stayed behind, and made ourselves comfortable near the sleeping man, sitting in one chair together, kissing and fondling more than a little.

  'Show me your horns,' I said, 'how did you manage to remove them so quickly and so neatly? It did hurt, though, didn't it?'

  The remembrance was still there, I could see him relive the pain, but he said dryly: 'I was so angry, I felt violated, my body touched without my consent.

  In my anger I realized that an act of ultimate defiance was needed, and I knew I could do it. Remember seeing the inside, with the tile-like structures that made up the dead part of the horn?' I nodded, and he continued: 'I separated those tiles one by one, until I got the hang and managed to do row upon row of them, and then the horns came off easily in my hand.

  I still want the caps back on, Paul saved them.

  It hurt like hell, same as the first time, without Paul's support I would have fainted dead away. You two are so good to me.'

  He bent his head so I could find his stumps between the curls, and they indeed looked fine. I scratched the bases some, and he shivered in enjoyment.

  'Please go on, spoil me,' he said huskily, 'my feelings have been rocked today, I want to forget the negative feelings my dad gave me, they're just not part of me.'

  And of course I scratched his horns, and he settled against me, just enjoying my touch, no heat rising in him.

  I felt him touch my mind and I invited him in, and then we shared our love and our feelings truly, but not passionately, for the first time ever. I think we had been really close for half an hour or so, when the shape in the easy chair began to move.

  We both looked at him, and he reminded me of Paul when he was at his worst, Hermes was not feverish, but he was clearly in terrible pain.

  Lukas got up, our moment together had passed, and he asked: 'Will you be all right if I leave for a moment, to get painkillers? He seems to be in a lot of pain. I feel sorry for him.'

  I agreed, and he left at a run. The angelic face before me, so well-known to me from those embarrassing dreams, was now distorted in waves of pain. I felt really sorry for him, this was the first time ever he had been totally helpless and in p
ain, and it debilitated him totally.

  No-one should fall this deeply, it was humiliating. Even remembering what he had threatened Lukas with, I couldn't help moving in to comfort him, though my common sense told me he had deserved this, my feelings told me to give what solace I might, by offering a soothing touch, some heart-felt compassion.

  When Lukas returned, he found me sitting with his father, holding his hand, stroking his short hair. The beautiful face was still showing his pain, but holding on to someone did seem to help just a little.

  Together, we helped him up and Lukas fed him the powder, washing it down with water. Awake now, and fighting the pain and thereby making it much worse, Hermes was truly a fallen angel, beautiful, well-shaped and totally helpless.

  I could understand why George would find this very attractive. Not being used to the little pains and illnesses of mortality, Hermes' weakness overruled him totally, and he could not pull himself together.

  He clung to me tightly, totally bewildered, holding Lukas' gaze as convulsively as he held my hand. Lukas pulled a chair closer, and tried to reason with him: 'Try not to let it overcome you, father, it's just pain, it will pass.'

  Hermes looked at Lukas in total incomprehension, again, nearly in a panic for not understanding him.

  Lukas looked at me and said: 'I think he used magic to speak your language, I'm sorry to be rude, but I'll have to speak Greek with him.'

  I replied jokingly: 'No problem, but remember, I will understand what you say, so be flattering about me.'

  With a sweet smile to me, he touched his father's face and said in that beautiful language: 'Father, don't fight the pain, it will get worse. Try to let it go, it'll pass.'

  His father tried to stop fighting the pain, his cramped body tried to relax a little, but his hand clamped mine as tightly as before.

  He whispered something, in Greek of course, and Lukas' answer sounded straight in my mind: 'You have no worshipers here, so when you called the

  hound of Hell upon me and my friends, your power ran out and your body used your life-force to complete the magic. It nearly killed you.'

  In Hermes' face, physical pain was now replaced by shame, and I truly thought something like mental pain as well.

  He whispered something else. Lukas got that look again, as if he was going to snarl at the helpless man at his feet, and his Greek didn't sound beautiful when he said: 'Are you truly? Or are you just afraid for your life? You promised to make me a captive in your home, worse than a slave.'

  I truly didn't like seeing my dear friend this way, it was so unlike him. But I also remembered his extreme fear, week after week of it, and the threats Hermes had offered him, and I supposed the tension needed to be released as well.

  The man in my arms cringed visibly, and whispered again. Lukas sounded more weary than aggressive now, I guess his nature could not keep up his anger for very long.

  In a friendlier tone he said: 'What could I have done, father, let you die at my feet when I had the power to save you? I feel what others feel, I must be true to myself.'

  Another whisper, and an answer: 'That is the price I pay for my Gift, it takes all I have to offer, and more.

  It also demands a price in love. Locked in a room alone and in iron manacles, my first healing would have killed me as certainly as you would have died today.'

  Hermes sounded stronger when he spoke again, the painkiller was probably kicking in, or maybe it was the intensity of the feeling that he expressed.

  Lukas was truly affected now, and I admired the strength with which he addressed his father: 'I really want to believe you mean that, so I will accept your apology. You are my father and I suppose in a way I still love you. I just don't want to feel this anger anymore, and this distrust towards you.'

  And with that, I truly believe he consciously rid himself of his negativity then and there, changing his whole attitude towards his father, becoming the son he would have been if his father had been like mine, supporting, loving, interested in his well-being.

  I suppose my face reflected my surprise, for Lukas looked at me beatifically and said in English: 'It is your unconditional love, and Paul's, that makes it possible for me to forgive my father.'

  Following his gaze, and looking at me with admiration, despite the pain, Hermes spoke again, still in Greek of course.

  And Lukas answered: 'Yes, father, I have never loved anyone like this beautiful girl and her husband. They could have loved each other exclusively, but they have found a place in their hearts for me, and still do not attempt to claim me.

  The people of this world have strange customs, but I have learned to fit in and I want to stay here, with Melissa and Paul.'

  Hermes looked at me again, almost longingly, and said something in Greek which sounded like an apology, only a lot longer, and Lukas translated: 'He says thank you for making his son happy, and he apologises for trying to take me away from you.'

  To be honest, I did feel the attraction of the helpless, beautiful man in my lap.

  His scent, so much like Lukas, his beauty, and his evident repentance towards his son made me want to caress him, explore his body for real as well as in my dreams.

  Ashamed of my attraction to the man who had caused Lukas so much grief, I replied, shortly: 'Thank you.'

  Now the painkillers worked and he was no longer in such a pitiable state, my need to comfort a creature in need faded, and I felt smudgy again, feeling my own attraction to him, and his sleek body against my body and his elegant hand in mine, remembering those dreams, reliving the exquisite sex I had with the arrogant father of a most beloved friend.

  Suppressing the urge to push him away, I carefully started to remove myself from under him, releasing his hand, trying to hide my ambiguous feelings.

  But my rejection clearly hurt Hermes, he wilted, still in pain, needing the support I had given him, and I couldn't let Lukas comfort him, it would be too much to ask.

  So I sat down again and held his hand once more, supporting his trembling shape whilst feeling both revulsed and attracted. Hermes asked Lukas something, and Lukas translated: ' Father wonders why you seem not to like him, most women find him very attractive.'

  'After sleeping with him in several of those dreams he sent me, I feel a bit smudgy touching his body so closely,' I admitted frankly, and I heard Lukas translate that literally in Greek.

  Now Hermes looked at me in shock, and rattled of a string of flowing

  sentences, an eloquent denial apparently.

  He sat up straight, but couldn't hold the pose, falling back against me with a moan of pain, just as Lukas translated: 'He denies ever having sent anyone any dreams, he knew your names and some of our involvements from spying on us from the basement, but he really never sent you any dreams of you and him making love.'

  Now Hermes smiled quite charmingly as he said something more, and Lukas added cheekily: 'Though he'd like to.'

  With that smile Hermes resembled his son even more, a guileless need for love in his eyes, a playfulness I hadn't seen in him before.

  I started to think he might not be as bad as I thought after all, and in a way this guy was my father-in-law as much as that dry noble that had neglected to give Paul some love.

  So I ignored the smudgy feeling and just stroked him gently as I had Jonathan, trying also to ignore his masculine scent and the firmness of his perfect body.

  Nearly asleep again, Hermes said one more thing to Lukas, a question from the tone of his language.

  Lukas replied: 'That was George, on whose property we are now. He is an adept mage with great skills, he provided me with the power needed to save your life, and he provided you with any power you have in your reserves right now.

  He doesn't think you sent him smudgy dreams, he just likes you.'

  That last sentence was spoken with decided humour, could it be that Lukas was kidding his father? And did Hermes look decidedly interested?

  Lukas answered another question: 'He will be back with
you, yes, he is with his guests right now, but someone will be watching over you all the time, and it will often be George.' This seemed to please Hermes a lot, and he closed his eyes, exhausted. We helped him to lie down again, and within minutes he was in a deep sleep.

  As soon as I had carefully removed myself from the chair on which his father was sleeping, I was with Lukas, wrapping him in my arms, and when he rested his head in my bosom, I knew this had been very hard on him.

  We sat in total silence, listening to the evening sounds, and after a while his head came up again and he returned my embrace, kissing me with passion, fondling my breasts.

  I scratched his horn-bases gently, and now he looked directly at me, eyes on fire. We couldn't leave his father unattended, but don't think that was a problem for Lukas, he knew I was in for some loving or I wouldn't have turned him on further.

  He took me to a large tree close to his father's chair, and I still don't know how he did it, maybe it was his son-of-a-god heritage, but he lifted me easily against it, got my skirts up and my underwear out of the way, and really soon he plunged into me, my legs around his hips.

  He was rough this time, and I loved every second of it, his mouth crushing mine, his weight against me, and his boundless energy thrusting in me, lifting me up a little bit every time he pushed himself in, giving me a thrill every time he touched me inside.

  But when I looked up at him, his face all determination, his eyes still on fire, I worried a little, this was not my peaceful, loving goat-man.

  This man burned inside, still, though he had seemed so forgiving. He caught me looking at him, slowed down a moment to laugh apologetically and kiss me tenderly, fire gone from his eyes, but not his loins.

  Then he speeded up again, and my worries disappeared in an all-consuming bliss, release shuddering through me a second later. He grinned and speeded up even more, how did he do it?

  My body reacted with even more passion, it was warmed up nicely now, and every thrust hit a nerve inside me.

  I could feel him close to his climax, his look became absent, his movement determined, and I helped myself along with my fingers, to release the tension built up inside me by now. We came at exactly the same time, and our groans of release mingled in the balmy summer evening.