The Faerie Child

Back in Dun Lolar, Andril wasted no time in getting things organized for the Ritual of Conceiving.

After he had a day to rest from his traveling, he went to talk to Ernell and Mallan, who were both quite eager to know how had everything turned out - after all.

'I have the ancient knowledge,' said Andril.

Ernell's eyes shone with gleeful joy, while Mallan looked askance at him; 'Can you tell us anything of the lore of the Fays?' the mage asked the young man.

Andril shook his head, 'I may not divulge any of the secrets I have learned. This is part of a compact that was preordained before time began,' said Andril; 'To violate it would bring about the end of the Fays - and the end of the world as we know it. The fact is: this power is too great to be used by anyone not born a Fay. I am sorry; it's nothing personal.'

Mallan gave another direct look at his boyfriend who was about to protest and then told Andril: 'We more than understand - Andril. Please excuse my beloved's - at times childish - habit to mind other people's business.'

Ernell gave one his huffs; obviously, he was protesting Mallan's meddling in this but he loved him too much to say anything.

'I will need your help, nonetheless,' said Andril. 'I know now how I can beget a Fairy Child. I will definitely need your help in order to get it done. The ritual requires a few things that you can do.'

Ernell and Mallan listened carefully, as Andril told them what he needed them to do. After he had done, he went to speak with the Druid Queen of Losfaloth.

The Queen was very happy to see that Andril had returned. 'You have visibly changed - my dear boy,' she said; 'Now, the Fay in you is fully awake.'

'It is - my Queen.' said Andril. 'I came to you because I will need your help in the Ritual of Conceiving I am to perform.'

'Ask and all shall be granted,' said the Queen.

Andril smiled and proceeded in telling the Queen what he needed from her. The Queen did not hide her surprise but she knew better than deny her help in this.

The next day, Gawain Lightray was having breakfast with his husband Amathen when a messenger came over to deliver a letter. The little piece of paper said that Gawain was summoned to the Woodland Palace to meet with the High Druidess of Losfaloth, Queen Rowena, herself. The letter further instructed that he come alone, not accompanied by his spouse.

The missive left the two rather unsettled. Usually, Amathen went wherever Gawain did. It was part of royal protocol; why the sudden breach?

'I don't understand it and I don't like it, Amathen!' said Gawain. 'What has gotten into that woman - now?'

'Could it be that Andril has returned?' said Amathen.

Gawain looked at his husband and sighed. 'I'm a little uneasy about this conception of the Fairy Child thing, my love. I do not feel anything for Andril. If I should make love to someone, it should be you.'

Amathen came close to his husband and took his hand in his own darker skinned palm, 'I know - my love,' he told the Lightray, softly; 'I also know that in the face of duty you will not shy away: not when the stakes are so high and the future of your land is in danger. So what if you make love to Andril? He also desires another man and I am sure this is not easy for him - too.'

Gawain smiled and kissed Amathen's lips softly: 'Ever the understanding one: you. Sometimes it amazes me how a brutish Southerner, like you, could be so empathic.'

Amathen laughed and gave his husband another soft kiss, 'I have learned from the best,' he said.

Gawain arrived at the Woodland Palace right on time for the meeting with the Queen. He was told, once he arrived, that he was to meet her in the North Gardens. Gawain followed the directions he was given and soon arrived in a small open space of the great palace. The garden had been cared for with precision and was exquisite. Flowers and trees of many different kinds wafted scents that delighted the nose and made him feel rather intoxicated.

He walked down a path of delicate porcelain tiles to reach a bubbling pool where birds and fishes happily cavorted. The feeling of serenity of this corner of the palace was almost too good to be true; was he dreaming?

'It is no dream,' came a bodiless voice from behind him. Gawain turned sharply to see who had spoken and found Andril.

'Andril! You're back!' he exclaimed happily surprised. Gawain noticed that the young boy seemed different but could not quite put his finger on what had changed about him: it just seemed that the boy was no longer a boy.

'It is good to see you again, Gawain. Do you know why you are here?' asked the Fay.

'The Queen summoned me. Do you know where she is?'

Andril shook his head and then offered a cup to Gawain with a clear liquid in it. Gawain looked at the cup then he smiled and drank it. The smell of flowers was making him act strangely; what was going on?

'Gawain, it is time you and I did what we came here to do. Do you understand?' asked Andril.

Gawain nodded but inside his head he felt rather confused. The truth was: he did not understand. The drink he had drunk was very sweet and at the same time he felt going into some sort of trance.

'What have you done to me - Andril?' he murmured, as he stumbled towards the young man.

'I gave you a potion that will enable you to impregnate me - Gawain. It is part of the Rite of Conceiving,' explained Andril.

'Why have me drugged? Why can't I do what needs to be done awake?'

'It is better that way. I will give you other potions while we are mating to keep your strength up. Without these, you would not last long enough to do what needs to be done.'

Gawain felt his body go limp and fell against Andril who held him up. Andril spoke a brief incantation, in a language now long lost, and soon the two of them were lying on a large bed.

Andril undressed Gawain slowly and then took his own clothes off. He looked at the older man lying on the bed. He was very beautiful but not as beautiful as Astor. Astor's masculinity was incomparable. Andril shook his head to clear his mind. He had to focus and not think about his beloved. He had to do this act of mating totally devoid of any intimate thought of love. It was what the ritual demanded.

Andril sat astride of Gawain and started to massage the older man's chest and to tease his nipples. Soon, they were very hard. Andril felt the man respond to his teasing: his large penis was getting hard beneath him - good.

Andril reached over to the side table and brought another cup to the man's lips and had him sip the potent elixir that soon made the man extremely hard. The Fays sure knew a lot about herbs and aphrodisiacs!

Andril slid down Gawain's body and grabbed his huge penis. He stroke it and suddenly he felt the tell-tale music of his Fay powers come to life. With a sharp movement of his hips, he impaled himself on Gawain and began to ride him. The music roared in jubilant ecstasy as the huge penis made its way into Andril's inner parts. Andril felt his Fay powers take over and let the music drive him on.

He rode Gawain for a long time; although, time in this ritual seemed to stop completely. There was only the act of mating with its incessant pleasure and the music carrying the two men along. Every now and then, Andril gave Gawain more elixir to drink and felt the renewed vigor in the man beneath him.

Suddenly, Gawain's eyes sprung open and he looked at Andril. He rolled over and placed the young man under him and opened his legs wide. He speared him anew and began fucking him violently. The music changed to a faster beat. The two of them were now completely subdued by the Fay magic at work.

Neither of the two knew how long Gawain fucked Andril. Whenever Gawain was about to get tired or slow down, Andril gave him more of that potent Fay elixir and the older man started fucking him with renewed strength.

Minutes felt like hours, hours felt like days; The two men entwined their bodies over and over in brutal love making, always in thrall of the music.

At one point, the music started a crescendo that neither of them had heard before. Gawain was mounted on top of Andril's prone figure, pounding him with vehemence when the two felt the beginning of Gawain's magical orgasm.

Andril reached over for a vial that he had kept for this very moment. As Gawain kept pounding him and screaming his moans of mounting pleasure; feeling the onset of orgasm, he drank the contents of the vial and murmured a brief incantation. Right at that moment, Gawain gave an inhuman howl of pleasure, as he came into Andril.

The orgasm lasted a very long time, with Gawain screaming with each thrust he gave, letting all of his semen inundate the younger man's insides. After what seemed hours, Gawain fell on top of Andril and lost consciousness.

The music stopped abruptly and Andril felt the strain his body had sustained in that inhuman ritual. His insides felt on fire and his muscles were sore. He was sure that Gawain would have died, had he not been given those powerful potions.

Andril, in pain, reached over again to the side table, where a small bell had been placed and tried to ring it. It fell from his hand but the noise of it alerted the two mages that had been waiting outside the door.

Ernell and Mallan ran to Andril and Gawain and immediately started chanting healing spells. Queen Rowena also came into the room with a potion specially brewed by her and made a shivering Andril take a few sips: 'Drink this; it will make you sleep,' she told him softly.

Andril sipped the clear liquid and then closed his eyes.

Right then, Amathen walked in the room. 'How is Gawain?' he asked Ernell, with concern in his voice.

'He will be fine,' said the young mage; 'The potion that Andril gave him will make him recover.'

'Sweet Intercession! They are both bleeding!' exclaimed the Samsaran.

'It's the ritual,' the Queen told the man, matter-of-factly; 'It brought out the feral and the animal instinct of the Fay and Gawain was possessed by it. They must have caused each other great pain - thus making each other even more sexually aroused.'

'This is barbaric!' he exclaimed.

'Now you know why he could not father children,' said Ernell, 'he likes it rough.'

The mage never saw the hook that floored him and put him unconscious. Amathen looked at him and then at Mallan, who had a hand raised, ready to cast a defensive spell to protect his lover.

'Sorry, I should not have done that,' said Amathen.

The Queen came over to the Samsaran man and gently but firmly led him away from the room. She shook her head and said: 'Men!'