The Black Elf

Part One
A Meeting in the Forest

The tall and dark silhouette stops his misty grey horse. His gaze falls upon the huddled shape, lost in sleep, curled up against the great oak's trunk.

//Human. More and more of them now. Even in this remote part of the forest.//

The figure clad in a brown cloak is surrounded by a circle of mushrooms.

//Of course, of all places, he's chosen to rest in one my fairy rings.// His gaze follows the ring. Two mushrooms are crushed. He shivers, in sorrow as much as in anger and summons voicelessly, searching for a light mental touch. The silence is deafening. All the fairies have fled, but for the one that couldn't escape the trampling of murderous feet.

Yet he catches a glimpse, a mere flickering, that rises from the less spoiled mushroom, and floats to his raised hand. The little fairy lands in the hollow of his silver palm. Two dark almond-shaped eyes, shattered with fear and pain, stare at his own. Her wings have transformed to a grey dusty shade, ruined by dark bruises.

//My precious one. Let me heal your body, and maybe your spirit.//

His right hand, gloved with the finest black leather, comes to cover gently the tiny suffering being. He takes both his hands to his mouth, parts his lips and softly blows a whisper of sparkling golden lights that surround the little fairy, swirl around her, intertwining with her inner self. The broken wings shiver, slowly unfold, their natural shimmer of rainbow colours rushing back through the delicate matter.

//Go now. Join your kin. I'll avenge your sister. Forget! NOW!//

A flash of steel in his eyes, and the little fairy suddenly wonders what she's doing here, in the hand of the tall black elf. Her recent memories erased, she smiles a mischievous grin at him and courteously bows to her liege-lord, before flapping her wings to take flight.

//To you, now, Earthling.// His gaze returns to the fragile body lying on the ground. //So easy to kill them. Too easy. And too quick. Boring. // A silent laugh escaped his joyless lips. When was the last time he had had any fun? He twists his beautiful lips in consideration.

//What about that old Circe joke? Turn them into the animal which is already inside them.//

He tilts his head, long raven black strands pouring over his shoulder, and clicks his tongue. A quiver runs through the great oak's foliage. Nothing else has been disturbed in the quiet sunny afternoon. In the middle of the broken fairy ring, entangled in layers of rude clothes, a small fox awakes slowly, his eyes blinking.

Amused, the black elf dismounts. //A fox! Unusual. Is he really that clever? Or was he just dreaming of roast chicken?// He stays there, towering the little red and white animal, whose nostrils are sniffing the air in a frenzy.

[What's the hell? Why is the grass so high? What's that smell?] The fox sneezes violently. His own sound makes him jump. [And this awful noise? Where does it come from?] He tries to listening to the singing of the birds, but it is thunder to his newly sharpened ears. Beyond it, he can clearly make out the humming, buzzing, scratching, drifting, flying of thousands of tiny creatures around him, deep into the forest. He goes on his fours and his eyes fall upon a paw. A paw? He slowly realizes that the paw is linked to a foreleg, and the foreleg to his shoulder.

Mulder yelps. He frantically looks at his body - *his* body? A tail. A very beautiful tail, furry and all. He's so puzzled that he's almost unaware of the silhouette bending over him. He just sees a huge shadow covering him and his instincts throw his body away before he can think.

But his limbs/paws/what-else stay frozen. He just can't move them!!

"Oh no, my little fox, you're not going anywhere." From the shadow the silver hand comes out, shining in the sun with a glare that's painful to his acute eyes. The hand grasps him without roughness and raises him in the air with incredible speed. He feels himself pressed against a warm black leathered chest, his red fur brushing against pearls, emeralds and gold embroidery. Under the leather, he detects a smell of sap.

[Let me go! I'm going to fall! Leave me alone! Let me go!] His fangs close around a silver finger and he hears silky laughter above his head.

"No, you're not going to fall. I hold you tight, little fox." A leather finger parts the thick fur on his neck and scratches almost tenderly at the white pounding throat. "Quiet, there, there." //Funny little one. I don't know what I'm going to do with you later, but for the time being, I can enjoy a pet.//

Mulder somewhat calms down under the gentle scratching. The metallic hand firmly holds him, and although his paws are still frozen in a way he cannot understand, at least he's able now to turn his head to watch his hunter. His eyes search up and find two eyes looking at him. His little mouth literally falls open as he remains a prisoner to them. [Leaves. Summer rich leaves, wavering in the breeze, shimmering with the sun that sparkles through them. Deep water as the ponds where he likes to dive, refreshing his lonely burning flesh. Grey-green waves of the sea darkened by a growing storm and crushing to pieces the boat he's aboard. Blue-green depths into which he once thought he was to die.]

The black elf listens to the swiftly whispering mind in his hand. He suddenly wonders if he has cast a spell without thinking of it. Magic isn't a skill to him. It's as natural as breathing. //No. I haven't. Or have I? Maybe I've just wished to enchant that little thing. No, why should I have? It's only a fox. Or a human. Nothing worth that kind of spell.//

The little fox's eyes are always caught in the green depths that engulf him. A flutter of the so long and dark lashes frees him. With a chill, the small black wet nose nestles itself against the leather plastron.

//So I can bind you with only one look. Interesting.// Carefully holding his new pet, the tall elf mounts again his horse. Taking hold of a rein with a light hand, he gently presses the silver flanks. //Shadowrain. Home.//

The big horse leaves the shade of the great oak, his hoofs barely disturbing the grass, and never touching the wild flowers.

His legs are still frozen, but Mulder doesn't care. He's sure that the green-eyed creature won't let him fall. Where this assurance comes from he cannot tell. //Because I don't stop telling you so. Don't you hear me? Not my words... Yet your mind is always working. *I* hear you. You still use words, astonishing in such a small brain.//

At this instant all his attention is captured by the dwelling they've just entered. First he wondered where the horse was leading them, walking chest high into the pond at the foot of the high rocky wall, but they just went through the watery curtain of the shimmering cascade. And behind they are now.

Two hands peel him from the embroidered plastron and place him down on a table, carefully laying him on his side, between piles of books. Curiously, he feels a relief in such a familiar surrounding. //Oh, a well-read fox. Is that why there are still so many words in this little head?// And immediately he craves for the touch he has become accustomed to. His head turns toward his abductor, and for the first time he can see him as a whole.

[A black elf!]

//And with a knowledge in lore? My, my, my. More and more entertaining.//

[I knew they existed! Here's the proof! I was right to believe!]

//Oh, an enthusiast. Exactly what I needed.// The elf snorts in disbelief. //Great Mother. What am I going to do with that thing now?//

Mulder, marvelling at his discovery, and forgetting for a while his poor predicament, scrutinizes his host/abductor. As tall as himself (in his human shape, it is), he's entirely clad in black: elegant legs under leather pants, the leather plastron with its wonderful embroidery, all worked in gold, pearls and gems, over a black silk shirt. The long black cloak, pushed aside over the bright shoulders, reveals long arms: the right hand is gloved in fine leather, an enormous pearl in the shape of a teardrop on the top, but the left one seems covered in silver, maybe a gauntlet. Mulder's eyes reach the head: long black hair that softly shines in the dime light. Two delicately hemmed, pointed ears. Ivory skin. Full lips that outline an amused grin at him, a thin nose with a slightly curled up tip, high cheekbones, and under the thick fringe of jay lashes, those green eyes.

//I can free him now.// "You can move, little one. Your legs," the elf insists, "they are free. Move them, will you?" //Doesn't it work? Oh my, this eye-bond again. At least I can stop him whenever I wish!// The elf, deliberately, slowly, closes his eyes. //Go on, now. What is to be your first move? Hmmm, you begin to be really amusing.//

Mulder blinks several times as though awaking from a day-dream. He shakes his head, and in a natural motion, raises a paw to brush his whisks. Then the meaning of his situation strikes him. [A fox! He turned me into a fox! That elf turned me into a fox! That's crazy.] He hears a chuckle. The black elf, his eyes closed, nods in agreement. [Do you... Do you hear me?]

"Yes, clever little fox, I hear you. Can't you hear my words when I'm talking to your mind?"

Mulder is baffled. He sits on his hind-quarters, thoughtfully collecting his furry tail around his paws. He opens his mouth but the only sound he can emit is a yelp.

"No, you can't speak, your fox's mouth isn't made for articulate language. Just think, I'm listening to you."

[WHO ARE YOU?]

"Shhhh! You don't have to shout, you know. Even a whisper, in the deepest of a dream, I can hear clearly. Who am I? You already indentified me. I'm a black elf."

[Who are *you*? In person?]

"Oh, you want formal introducing. For your human lips, my name is Alex, and I'm a warlock of the Eldred's kin. And who are you? I mean, when you're not a fox?"

Mulder frowns his black button eyes at the laughing elf. [As a matter of fact, my name is Guillaume Mulder. I'm well-read, and I'm specialized in lore and mythology. I studied in Oxford, Heidelberg, Lyon, Vienna and Padova.] Free from the hypnotic eyes, he feels bolder. [Why did you do that to me? What entitled you to turn an innocuous scholar into a fox?] He stops at once, as Alex reopens flaming eyes.

"An innocuous scholar, you are? A fool, who breaks in a forest alien to his kind, spoiling each objects his eyes fall upon, crushing poor beings he's unable to see, killing MY people!!!"

Under the blazing rage of the warlock, Mulder crouches down on the table, his small body shaking in terror, and at the same time, his eyes are bound to the green glaze he can't/doesn't want to escape. Deep in the middle of his mad fear, questions arise, with regrets and true despair for evil unconsciously done. A crackling light surrounds the black elf as a thundering storm that the room seems unable to contain.

As Mulder experiences the sorrow behind the wrath in his abductor, his heart breaks, and tiny tears of compassion and remorse run freely between his whisks.

Alex freezes at the sight of the droplets shining on the red fur. His anger has fallen down, all at once. Animals don't cry, no more than faery people. This curse is a purely human treasure. He walks to the table, kneels in front of it, and his gloved hand reaches the small face. He holds out his forefinger to catch a tear, but the fox, his eyes drowned, is no more under his spell; the little beast instinctively pulls back. Then of his own will, he comes back, and offers his vulnerable cheeks to the elf's touch. [Take it. I know tears can be useful to you. Or at least I think so. You made them pour. They're yours.]

The warlock silently nods. He picks up some of the small drops and stands up to take them to another room.

Mulder lies down on the desk. He brushes his wet cheeks with his forepaws, and then he rests his head on them, allowing his sobs to calm down. The weariness ensuing from the events overcomes him, and soon he's fast asleep.

Having removed his cloak, glove and plastron, Alex comes back to the reading room. He finds his pet on the desk, curled up in a fluffy ball against a pile of bounded books, lightly snoring, his little chest rapidly heaving. //Exhausted, are you? I'll make you more comfortable. DON'T WAKE UP.//

He picks up the animal with caring hands and takes him to his own couch to lay him down on the pillow before sitting on the brocade quilt. The fox turns over in his sleep and makes himself comfortable. With curiosity, the elf listens to the dreaming mind.

[Dark green waters all around. Muscled white arms floating freely on the surface, fingers playing in the wavelets they create. A strong body that rushes forward, the coolness running along my skin, my swimmer's long sensitive thighs. I dive. Greener, darker, deeper, colder. Algae slowly swirling around my legs, a bank of silver fishes opening to let me through, closing behind me. They're back, bigger ones. Like hands. Skilful silver hands, reaching me, brushing against my flesh, touching my chest, stroking my belly, reaching my groin, taking hold of my hardness. Let me go. I'm going to fall. Please.]

The fox painfully groans in his sleep. The black elf looks at him, fascinated. He never thought he could be aroused by an Earthling. Scanning the human mind inside the animal body, he has found himself touching and touched, and his own virility is rising. His curiosity too is awake. He knows now which animal lies in that human, but which human really dwells in the fox? He had just a glimpse of him, before his anger turned him into that furry ball.

//I'm surely wrong. But... Let's see.// The silver hand makes a pass over the sleeping fox, and in a misty haze, the reddish features tremble and fade, to dissolve and reassemble themselves in a long naked body, curled up in foetal position; the knees rest against the warlock's buttocks, the arms are folded across the ivory chest, the head cocked on the pillow, hazel-nut hair entangled, pouting lips quivering from their owner's dream.

//So beautiful. These ugly clothes hid a treasure, didn't they? And what have we here?// The metallic fingers slip slowly along the thighs, sending a sensual shudder along the limbs, and gently part them. //Open yourself. I won't hurt you, I promise. DON'T WAKE UP.// With a moan, the man languidly leans on his back, letting the exploring hand reach his groin and a shining finger lightly follows the shaft to the head of his member, where a droplet already glitters. //For me? And what if I awake you now? Are you going to scream, or fight? Shall I have to silence you? If I force you to look into my eyes, you'll do all what I want. But what do *you* want?//

The black elf feels undecided. But the throbbing under his calm fingering is appealing. //For how long haven't I possessed somebody? Centuries? And that beautiful. Hmm. And yourself? You seemed rather lonely to me.//

Bending over the handsome face, he scans deeper, skirting the dream, searching for the memories, buried back in the mind. And finds nothing but a loneliness similar to his own, the realization of which makes him gasp. As in a last decisive test, he lowers his mouth and rests it on the full lips which unconsciously part and welcome him. His hand closes around the swollen member.//You may awake, now.//

Mulder lazily half-opens his eyes, and finds his dream assuming a manly form. His wanting rod pushes itself into the hand that's squeezing it and he drowns in the breath that feeds his mouth. An overwhelming taste of fresh leaves, morning mist, wild flowers, spring breeze, crushed mushrooms, dark waters, winter gales, cracking fire, all at once invades him. It's like swallowing a snow-flake whilst chewing a blade of grass at the same time. Blindly, his arms encircle the body that tops him, pulling the fine head in a closer embrace.

//Breath, my sweet fox.// Under the light mind touch, the man's eyes open wide, and gently pulling back the elf finds himself mirrored in grey/hazelnut/green depths. //Mother, I could be caught too in these eyes.// Mulder stays riveted to the warlock eyes. //Here it is, once again. I must find a way to free him - but not too much...//

"Fox? Fox! Answer me. Fox?"

"My name's Guillaume."

The warlock smiles at his once-pet. "You told me. But I like this fox inside you. And *Guillaume* is too human a name to me. So I'm going to call you Fox." He moves to lean down against the perfect body.

Mulder silently nods. Then his hips raise as the soft metallic hand increases his motion along his painful member. "Oh, my God!"

//Couldn't you forget this new comer of yours for a while?// But Alex isn't here to initiate a theological argument, so he prefers to close the blasphemous lips with his own, bringing back his Fox to Old Nature's realities. His right hand goes under the slim waist, holding tight the twitching belly against his own, and his left one goes on with his maddening strokes, rubbing the eager penis against his leather pants.

//Let me in. Let my mind feel your pleasure, Fox.// He finds the whirling centre on which his Earthling is focused. //Yes. My body against your body. My mouth on yours. My hand around your rod.// He concentrates on the sensations building in the man's crotch. A desire scarcely begins to rise, at once it is satisfied. A need in the secret hollow between the testicles, a finger comes to solicit it. The crown longing for a touch, the silver thumb complies. And the pleasure that draws near its eruption grows in his own loins at the same rhythm. //I'm going to come with you, just in time with you, just let me in. Open your eyes, I want to share everything with you. Come on, Fox. Come for me. Come for us!//

And at last the Earthling arches his body against his embrace, screaming in the primal tasting mouth, grey-green eyes lost into his non-human lover's darkening ones, enchanted by the golden rings of fire that swirl in their depths, as a fading thought crosses his dissolving mind. [One ring to rule them all.]

The black elf hears the last words of his human mate right before everything becomes black in the frail young mind. He wonders at the exhausted face. He had forgotten how strong such shared pleasure could be. He softly kisses the blanched lips, and doing so he turns the fainting into a peaceful sleep of healing. Then he sits calmly and contemplates the relieved flesh that is slowly softening in his hand.

//I could stay that way for a very long time. But I can't miss this opportunity. The Great Mother knows I didn't think of it at first. It wasn't deliberate. I must collect this.// He stands up and disappears into his lab, to be back a few seconds later with a vial of red crystal and a gold spatula. Bending over the sleeping body, he gently runs the soft-edged blade on the white belly and fills the little vial with his lover's sperm. //Lover? He's only a human. I shouldn't think of him that way. Yet...// Checking his pants, he chuckles, and collects as well the gleaming cream smeared on the leather. He carefully corks the small container.

Then he kneels beside the bed, and with determination, he puts his lips on the now flaccid rod to sip at the remaining sperm. //This is going to bind me to you. But I've already gone too far.// He draws the sheet over the lying body, and again he stands up, licking his lips with half-closed eyes. "And you're worth it, I know," he adds aloud, as if the man could hear it, before he turns his heels to return to his lab.

Part Two
Glade Of Quest

SUMMARY: Love works magic but you need some ingredients first...
BETA: A lot of thanks to Inky and Dr. Ruthless who understand me so well! And my sometimes clumsy English...

Alex stretches his arm and listens to the flow of time. He feels that the moon has reached half sky and wonders if his Fox is returning from the refreshing stupor into which he had plunged him. He closes the book of magic spells he has been working on, and his tall silhouette straightens up. Silver fingers absently brush against the red crystal vial, reminding the elf of the salty taste of his lover. A delighted smile part his fine lips.

He brushes open the velvet crimson curtain closing his bedroom, and steps toward his couch... empty. //??? Gone for a little visit? So curious.//

He reaches the reading-room, but comes to a stop at the threshold. Nobody. He sends sinuous mental filaments in search of the Earthling's mind, but as they float, they vainly knot and unknot in the deserted lair. A lurking displeasure builds in the black elf's darkening eyes. //He wouldn't dare leave! Anyway he cannot escape my hold. He's not stupid enough to ignore this.//

He folds his arms across his chest, lets his head droop, and focuses on the mind pattern of the young scholar. The filaments gain consistency, stretching golden threads of swirling mist in the air, and extend one by one in various directions. //There!// One of the ectoplasmic threads has shuddered at the touch of human presence. Alex lets them all vanish in a shimmering dust lazily falling to the ground, where they simply disappear.

//I should have thought of it. My clever Fox. As scared as he was, yet he made a quick survey of my place!//

The warlock, a new smile drawing his delicate lips, strides toward the entrance of the cave. He welcomes the moonlight chanting through the liquid curtain, and greets night spirits that come flying by to worship their lord and master. He listens to their babbling, which echoes their curiosity regarding the strange being they have just caught a glimpse of. //He's mine.// The easy assertion is enough to throw them back into the luminous darkness, to their everlasting games.

Alex follows the rock face, but his boots don't really touch the hazardous ground. His hand brushes the edge of the cascade apart, just as it had the velvet curtain a while before, and he peers into the pond beneath his feet. //Yes, I should have thought of it. Is your flesh still burning, sweet one?//

In the dark depths, surrounded by the splattered splendor of the moon, the long and pale body of his Earthling floats freely on his back, softly rocked back and forth by the short waves born of the falling water. His eyes are closed, his lips drink up the night breeze. Alex stares at the dark nipples erected by the freshness that teases them, and lower, to the shivering member in the grip of the silky blackness. //What are you dreaming of? Tell me.// He listens, remaining hidden from the volatile mind.

[Perfumes mixed in the night. White flowers? Yes. And lichens all over the wall, pouring like green hair, dark hair in the night. Raven dark as his. Green as his stare on me. Perfumes in the night, like his, but not as rich. Where is he? My sweet lord. A black elf! I can't believe I met one, for real. So sweet.] Then: [How long?] Alex jerks at the sudden desperate thought that crosses his mind. No, Fox's mind. [Surely it was a game to him. He needed my tears, my semen. I'm glad anyway, even if he's surely going to send me back. Or dispose of me. What am I in his eyes? A mere speck of dust in the flow of centuries he has already known. A petal on this pond, blown away by the first cold thrust of wind.]

Alex, leaning against the rock, hugs himself tightly as he experiences the hollow sadness that invades the frail mind below him, like black snow pouring on long forgotten limbs. He remembers such moments of loneliness that he has experienced in some distant past. [I could sink there. Just imagine that these are his eyes, and leave me to drown in them, let me be swallowed in the perfume of his mouth, how could such a taste ever exist, he made me drink the whole earth in a breath, Alex...] As the death compulsion begins to overcome the lonely mind, the warlock shakes himself and raises his silver arm above the pond, summoning wordlessly.

Fox feels himself lifted out of the water, an urging power taking his whole body in charge. He moves his limbs erratically, but all the same rises into the fresh air that turns cool on his wet skin. A wave of overwhelming love drenches his mind, and he lands a few yards higher to be encircled in strong arms that hold his body against the dark and burning body of the warlock.

"My Fox, what's this madness? I don't *send back* my people. You're mine, and I shall keep you."

[I thought you just wanted...]

"I heard you, beloved." //I should punish you for trusting me so little.// "Promise me never to indulge in such foolishness again. Do you hear me?"

Fox looks searchingly in the concerned eyes and freezes at once, but his mind stays clear. [HOLD ME. Do not let me go. Never. Please.]

This time Alex doesn't release his grip on the young Earthling. He enters deep in the human's mind, and with his whole heart undertakes to sooth the frightened soul. His thoughts fondle, caress, hug, touch, kiss everywhere. They reach the hidden folds where his Fox has buried his deepest fear, where the little animal is hunched in a miserable ball left to die alone in icy bitter snow. They extend like a warm coat of comfort that brings little by little a shy peace to the vulnerable mind.

The human's look is always enraptured by the burning emeralds, but his body relaxes uncontrollably in the warlock's embrace, and in wave after wave the warmth fills his shaky limbs. The black elf leans softly closer to the captive face, and his mouth settles on the red lips, his stare never leaving his lover's. Floating a few inches above the pebbled path, he takes them both back to the security of the carved dwelling. The intertwined bodies slip through the whispering night, passing by the crystal song of the cascade and swiftly cross the row of rooms to reach the white couch.

Alex lays them both down on the carpeted ground with a feathery touch, and holding the white shoulders, he softly lowers the long fringe of his dark lashes upon the fire of the sparkling emeralds. He pulls back a little, partially freeing the Earthling. Half dazed, Fox contemplates the ivory features then becomes aware of the bedroom he's in. He feels an immediate relief and his numb arms encircle the slim waist of his rescuer as he pushes himself close in the embrace, rubbing his forehead against the black silk. //Do you feel better?// "Do you feel better, Fox?" Alex says in loud voice, slightly sad to notice that the mental bond between them remains uncomplete.

A purr of contentment vibrates against his chest, and tender hands stroke the small of his back, making him laugh softly. His mouth reaches for a little pink ear, still cold from the nocturnal bath, and his teeth nibble at the edge of the lobe. The words spill in it like dewdrops. "Listen, my sweet one. First, I must do something about this eye-bond. It's very satisfying to me, of course, but you do need to keep some free-will. It's a necessity, you know; you could be endangered if ever you're entranced at the wrong time. Not only that, but we'll have to improve the psychic bond between us. I need you to hear me whenever I wish, even if we're not together." He feels his Fox starting in his arms and pats him in a reassuring way. "We can't be this close all the time, you know? Even if I really love the idea... It doesn't mean we're going to part."

He kisses the feverish eyelids of the young Earthling, simultaneously licking at the tears that have begun to run on the sweet cheeks, and reeled at their taste. //I must be careful! It's such a powerful ingredient to us. Your tears, beloved, they're almost as strong as this essence of you I drank on your body when you came for me. For us.//

"Would you come with me into my laboratory? I'll prepare something to protect you. But first I'll ask you to cover this pretty body of yours. You are slightly distracting this way," he chuckles. Then he pats the sheet behind the Earthling and a pack of green fabric materializes. "Here's all you need. Do you prefer another color?"

"Oh no, Alex!" the young man exclaims. These are the same colour as your eyes and - " The Black elf has lowered his long silky eyelashes in a swift move and he raises a finger.

"Hush. Dress quickly, my beloved."

"Yes, Alex."

Soon the Earthling has got into his new clothes. Nothing he's not used to, green breeches, a green tunic, green boots... But the breeches are of soft wool, the tunic of the finest silk, and the boots are made of thin but strong skin. And everything smells faintly of leaves and grass and flowers. He shakes himself in delight. "I'm ready, my Lord. Thank you for all this."

Alex holds him by the shoulders and kisses the chestnut locks. "Thanks to you for existing, my Fox. Come on, this way." He leads the young scholar past the velvet curtain and introduces him to his work room.

Fox stops in amazement. Like the rest of the place, the laboratory is carved into the rock. Instead of the draperies, furs and cushions stuffing the bedroom, here the walls are covered with wooden shelves softly gleaming in the near darkness. Here and there, light globes float steadily, revealing thousands of leather-bound books, rolls, parchments. On several heavy oak tables glass vessels are close to terracotta pots and silver and gold implements. In a corner an athanor shows a reddish glow above a brick oven.

"You... you work here?" [Stupid. Of course he works here. Is it love that makes a fool of you?]

"That makes two of us, my precious!" Alex laughs heartily as he answers Fox's thought. Pushing Fox towards the main table he explains, "This bond can be easily contained. Being a question of eyes to eyes, if I may say so, I thought of using your tears, but I'd need some of mine too."

Fox turns swiftly to his lover. "But elves don't weep!"

"Exactly. Not from emotion at least. But we have a protective fluid that can flow in special circumstances. If something strong enough is threatening our eyes."

The Earthling stares at him in anguish. "You're not going to put yourself in danger just for me?? Please, don't!"

"It won't be *that* dangerous, my beloved. Just the tiniest drop of your own tears should provoke a reaction. But it could blind me for a short while.

[No, no, I don't want you to hurt yourself! It's not worth it! I'm not worth it!]

"I'm not going to hurt myself. And anyway you are worth it, but there really is no danger. Here's what you must do: when you see the tears, pick them up with this golden spoon and put them in this emerald tumbler. Take care, there'll probably be very few of them, maybe only one. And please, don't look into my eyes whilst you act. I know it's not easy, but take care. Are you ready?"

Fox shivers a little, and taking hold of the tumbler and the spoon, he nods. "Yes, my Lord. I am." He looks with determination at the elf's shoulders, fighting not to raise his eyes higher as Alex takes a little spatula to his own eye.

The warlock whistles painfully and gestures to Fox, who is closely watching him. Two small black pearls shine at the tip of the dark eyelashes, and with the greatest caution the scholar touches them with the small spoon, making them fall in the green tumbler where they land with a musical sound. [It's done, Alex.] His knotted throat prevents Fox from speaking out loud, and he feels grateful for the psychic bond between them. [What should I do now?]

Alex grins and whispers, "Kiss my eyes. Lick my eyelashes, just once, please."

Fox complies in a hurry, holding his Lord's face between his hands. His lips softly land on the silk fringe and the point of his tongue washes them. He thinks he's never touched anything so sweet until this very moment. "You're not done with surprises then," chuckles the witch.

The young man sighs in relief. "Don't you suffer anymore?"

"No, don't be upset. And it wasn't what I'd call suffering, just a little tickling... Now, give me that tumbler, will you?" He holds his hand out to take the emerald glass and sits in front of the big table. Reaching for a small blue pot, he lets some of its content fall into the tumbler. A little pop causes Fox to start. "Hush... Keep quiet, please my sweet one."

"Yes." Fox breathes. Obediently he crosses his hands behind his back, like when he was a child listening to his first teachers, as he observes the elegant moves of the black elf who's concentrating on the green glowing tumbler. His silver hand slowly goes down to cover the vessel, and the glowing increases to a blinding light, accompanied by crackling sounds.

Then the light recedes, and Alex straightens himself with a mark of weariness upon his fine features. A tired smile, and he explains, "I'm going to drink this, then you'll drink just a few drops from my lips. The potion itself, in its natural state, would be too strong for your human body. But first you must be under the eye-spell so that the potion can cancel it out. Look into my eyes, my Fox..."

He turns to the young man, and Fox drowns in the green depths which he knows to be his safest haven. At once he's caught in the delicious enchantment. [Should you really deprive me of this? It's so sweet to lose myself, to dive in you...]

"It won't be over, my beloved. But you won't be caught by surprise anymore and beyond my will. I'll still be able to hold you this way when I decide too... It isn't a difficult trick." [A trick? You call this a mere trick?] "Don't misunderstand me, Fox. It's a spell which is easily reproduced. But this spontaneous bond between us is something special I never met before. I told you before why it could be dangerous to you. But I won't use a trick to restore it between us. This potion is just softening it, do you understand? A simple surge of will from me and the bond will be active. Are you ready?" the warlock asks the immobilized man in a loud voice.

"Yes, my Lord," Fox slowly articulates.

Reverently raising the emerald tumbler, the black elf drinks carefully from it, then he puts it back to the table before holding out his hand to the Earthling. "Do come to me, Fox." The young man takes a step towards him, then a second and finally reaches his Lord, who bends to softly kiss the half-opened lips. A few drops of potion flow between them, touch his tongue and trickle down his throat. With a shudder Fox shakes himself and stares at his lover's face. His gaze keeps coming back to the green eyes. They're still glittering with magic and love, but he can leave them and return to them without effort.

"Alex, Alex... This is wonderful! This is the first time I can really look at you! How right you were! Thank you, my Lord, thank you!" The young scholar falls to his knees, and seizing the edge of the warlock's mantle, he takes it to his mouth to kiss it in worship.

"Come on, Fox, you don't have to kneel in front of me. Later, yes, but for sweeter purposes... //Come on, let me enjoy your so beautiful eyes.//

"My eyes aren't as beautiful as yours, Alex. Yours are the most extraordinary in this world as well as in mine."

//Did you hear me?//

"Yes, I hear you, Alex. Why are you asking?"

//Look at my lips.// Fox looks at the elf's face. //They're not moving. I'm not talking. Not loud. Do you really hear me?// The young man stares at him, his mouth falling open in bewilderment. "I... I didn't realize... I clearly *heard* you!"

"I think this is a side-effect of the potion. We'll have to test its level of efficiency. From how far you can hear me, if emotional states lower or enhance it, that kind of thing."

[I can hear you! That's fantastic. Just as you can hear me, then?]

"Not exactly. I can scan deep inside you, your thoughts, your feelings, even when you don't really *speak* to me. I think you can hear me when I'm voluntarily *talking* to you. Do you understand?"

"Oh yes, clearly. But this is already a miracle."

"Not a miracle. Just magic," the warlock concludes.

"Should we, huh, celebrate?"

"What do you mean, my Fox?"

"You *know* what I mean! If you don't, you just have to read my mind," remarks the young man, blushing.

The elf laughs out loud. "Yes, I *know*. But it's not time to play."

The young Earthling pouts in the most delicious way.

"You must sacrifice a little to gain a lot. Are you able to?"

[What do you mean?]

"I told you we can't be fully united now, and won't be as long as you cannot stand my semen. It would just, huh, destroy you..." Fox shivers as he suddenly feels cold invading his heart. [So, never?] "No, it will be possible. We need another potion, but it will ask for a more complicated process. I'll have to use several ingredients than I don't have here."

"Where can you find them?"

"I can't."

"WHAT?"

"I can't find them. *You* must find them for me."

"Me??? But how could I? I'm a simple human! If you, a powerful warlock, an elf, can't find them, how could I succeed? This is impossible..."

"Is your faith in me, in us, so weak?"

"No, my Lord, no... Please, why me? What have I to do?"

"You must make the choice with your own will to enter my world, Fox. It's you who is asking for this. You have to prove you can do it. You'll search for the ingredients, three of them. I can't help you - it wouldn't be fair, do you understand? Your quest would be useless."

"A quest? How long will it take? Will you be by my side, even if you are not helping me?"

"Yes, as far as I can. How long? A few hours in this world. Far longer following the human calendar, but of this you're already aware, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"I'll take you where the tests will have to take place. No need to search blindly for days or months..." Fox nods. "First, you'll have to prove your knowledge. This shouldn't be too hard, you're so clever, my sweet Fox! Then your attachment to the Goddess will be tested."

[But I'm not a worshipper of the Goddess?]

"All living beings are, Fox. Just listen to your heart, you'll find the answer. The third ordeal, I cannot tell you about. You'll have to find out by yourself."

Fox crosses his arms on his chest as though he were cold. Alex reaches for him and takes him in his embrace. //I trust you. You will succeed. You will bring me what I need, I shall prepare this potion then we shall be as one. Do you believe me?// The young man looks in the green, loving eyes, from which the ageless forest peers at him through the eyes of a host of timid lives. The confidence pours into his heart and soul.

[Yes, Alex. I believe you. I'll succeed for both of us. I promise.] His face rests on the strong shoulder, and he closes his eyes.

Feeling the rustling of the wind in his hair, he reopens them to find himself in the middle of a glade. Amazed, he looks around him to see the hazy silhouette of the warlock fading. //It's the first test, Fox. You can do it. Never forget that I love you.//

He's alone. Confused he stares at the big trees bordering the clearing when something catches his attention.

Fox makes a few steps towards a silver beech and peers at the furry yellow spot on one of the lowest branches. The spot grows slowly as though condensing from a mist, and a black wet nose appears, then two bright green eyes, then a pair of long white whiskers. At last a big mouth opens in what could be taken for an inviting smile - as long as you were a juicy mouse.

"Hello, stranger!" the yellow cat says.

The young man stares in the cat's eyes. "Huh, who are you?"

"Who do you think I am?"

"A kind of 'felix silvestris'? I never met any so I'm not sure..."

"A kind of phallic silvertrick?!" the cat spits. "Grrrmph. I'm the Cheshire Cat."

"A cat from Cheshire?"

"No."

"But you said..."

"I said I was THE Cheshire Cat."

"Oh." After a short while, as the cat remains silent, Fox adds, "Sorry."

"Grrrmph."

"And, huh, where do you come from?"

"Cheshire, what do you think?"

"Yes, but if you're not a felix sil..., I mean, a forest cat... I read there are other kinds of cats in the world, but I never met any either."

"Oh, so we're well-learned, are we? Well your fellow crusaders brought some of my cousins back with them when they made the trip to regain the grave of their Saviour. A saviour who can't save himself, what the heck???"

"But Our Lord Jesus Christ was reborn from the dead and..."

"Yeah? Then the guy doesn't need a grave. So you have nothing to regain."

The Earthling remains mute. He finds it a little difficult to argue with a talking cat.

"When my cousins crossed Italy they found the place rather pleasant. But reaching more northern countries was definitely a bad idea. Your peat fires will never challenge a warm sun for a nap." He frowns. "And your mice aren't as lazy as ours. And we're used to being worshipped and served as gods, not sent to feed bonfires in order to solve your metaphysical problems."

The Cheshire Cat thinks for a minute then concludes, "Well that's the cost of domestication." With that he opens his mouth impossibly wider and begins to laugh, so long and so loud that he loses his balance and almost falls from his branch. Fortunately his tail makes a knot around the wood and he grips the nearby trunk with a impressive set of claws. Regaining his position he sniffles, "Sorry, private joke." He holds back a last chuckle.

Fox wonders what he can expect from the now speechless cat. "I guess there's a reason to our meeting?"

"You tell me."

The young man tries, "I've been sent on a quest by my Lord Alex. Could you be part of it? Can you help me?"

"You Lord Alex? Who's that?"

"He's a black elf warlock of great power. He's tall, with dark hair and green eyes and..."

"All black elves have dark hair and green eyes."

"Ah..."

"What kind of quest?"

"We need some ingredients to make a potion, so I can stand his... his..."

"His what?" The cat seems to lose patience.

"His... seed..."

"Oooooh! You're THAT Earthling? The one who serves Lord... " - the cat sneezes.

"Huh, Gesundheit."

"What?"

"I said *Gesundheit*".

"I heard, but why did you say it?"

" 'Cause you sneezed. I didn't think saying *God Bless You* would be a good idea."

"I didn't sneeze."

"Ah? I thought so. Forgive me."

"So you're the one who's sent by Lord..." - the cat sneezes again.

"Gesundheit."

"Huh? Are you stupid?"

"But you sneezed again."

"I didn't sneeze! I was talking of your Lord *sneeze*." He pauses. "Could it be you don't know the name of your Lord?" The cat looks bewildered.

"You mean, this.. sound... is his elvish name? My Lord Alex's name? He said I could never pronounce it."

"One wonders why," the cat sniffles again.

"So, can you help me? Do you know of my quest?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. I have something for you. Thinking of it, it could be... one of these ingredients?"

"What is it?"

"You're gifted with clear-view?"

"I don't understand."

"You just told me what I was ready to ask you."

Fox begins to feel a little lost. Well, more than a little.

Patiently - as far as one of his kin can be patient - the Cheshire Cat explains, "I must ask you: what is it I'm to give you."

"How could I know???"

"That's the problem. You must guess. If you guess right, you get it. Get it?" And the cat smiles widely at his own joke.

"Huh, I think, yes. May I have a clue?"

"Even three of them, my boy. And you're allowed three guesses too, you know, ye olde rule. Shall we begin?"

Bravely, the human straightens himself. "Yes!" he announces in a clear voice.

"No need to shout! I have very good ears. All right, here we go. The first clue is: *I have neither beginning nor end, yet I'm ephemeral*. Who am I?"

Fox stares at the waiting cat. He tries to think but his mind remains desperately blank.

"You are allowed a first guess, you know? Come on, did I get your tongue?"

"Hum, the time?"

"Rubbish! Let's go for the second clue. Ready? *Don't break me for I bear life. Break me so I give life. Who am I?*. So, your guess?"

Fox feels slow despair overwhelming him. He hadn't thought this would be so difficult. In fairy tales, problems seem unsolvable but the hero always finds the answer as if by magic. Maybe he wasn't a hero, after all.

"Ho ho? Anybody there? Some have mice to chase here. Your second guess?"

The young man thinks furiously. "A... a flower?"

The cat sighs in a most eloquent way. "Well, it's a bit early to start talking about success. If you don't try harder, methinks you're no way near to being granted a good elvish fuck! Mwwwaaaahhh! Oooops." Once again the cat regains his position and his composure. Looking down at the blushing man he remarks, "Red suits you, you know that, Foxy??"

"What's your third clue?" asks the miserable Earthling.

"You want to finish quickly with all this? You're right. The sooner the better. It's becoming ridiculous. The third clue is..."

"Yes?" Fox looks anxiously at the grinning cat. [Please, my Lord, I know you can't help me. But I love you so much! Anyway I'll serve you as long as you'll allow me. But will you want any more of a stupid man who fails at the first obstacle?]

With solemnity the cat announces, "*You can hold me within your hand, yet I can hold a whole universe within myself. Who am I?*"

Fox looks at his own open hand as if it can give him a hint. Something is trembling at the very edge of his consciousness. He frowns at the surging idea. He compares it with the precedent clues. The shape without beginning or end... The fragility and the life... The old myth of creation... A smile suddenly plays on his lips; he opens his mouth and asserts, "You are an egg!"

"Grrrrrrrooooowwww? By the Great Cat! I didn't think you would make it!!!"

Fox repeats, his heart bouncing in his chest, "it's an egg, for God's sake, it's an egg!"

"I heard, I heard, no need to tell it thrice as it's already true! Here's your egg and don't bother me anymore with your fucking quest!"

Where the Cheshire Cat once sat, there's nothing left but a small nest, and inside the nest, a shining, pale-blue egg. Fox comes near the branch to pick it up, but before he can reach it he feels the warm and loving presence at his back. Turning around he's caught in the embrace of his Lord, Alex, who covers his face with tender kisses.

"You guessed! I knew you would. I was so sure of you and your knowledge..."

Holding the young man by the waist, he rises slowly from the ground to take hold of the precious egg. Both lovers float slowly back down, looking in a wonder at the precious shape that sparkles in the silvery hand. Then the warlock makes a small gesture, and his hand is empty.

"It's safe in my cave, Fox," he reassures the stricken man. His fresh, metallic fingers wipe away a fine film of sweat from his once-a-pet's forehead, and he smiles kindly, "You need a rest, for it was harder a test that you may think. But first I'd love to pleasure you..."

[And I'd love to pleasure you too, my Alex, as you pleasured me already. Could I? Wouldn't it be dangerous? If I just, say, touch you, nothing more, could I, please?]

"You would love that, wouldn't you?" The black elf softly lays his Earthling onto the rich grass, in the centre of the dappled light filtered by the beech leaves. His skilful hands slide along the pale body, and the man is soon naked in the warmth of the afternoon. His skin shivers under the magic touch of his lord. The silver hand closes around his already swollen member and the man's mouth opens on a low whining.

A brief move of his hips frees the elf from some of the black fabric that covers him, and Fox sighs in delight at the sight he craves. He tentatively reaches for the ivory rod that pulsates under his fascinated eyes. Encouraged by the smile on the beautiful face he loves, he takes hold of his new-found treasure and presses it cautiously, tearing a deep shudder from Alex.

The magic member is softly burning his hand like a fire that gives life and never harms. He feels the warmth creeping along his arm and his chest, then his lower belly as their desires grow at the same pace. The black elf lies beside his Fox and holds him against his tall body, joining their intimacies in a common caress so sensual it makes the human's nerves quail. The greedy lips cover his and open them; their tongues play together for the very first time and Fox feels drunk from the saliva that runs through his throat, for it's as flavoured and tasty as a strong and spicy wine.

As he goes on devouring his human lover, Alex hums a low tune that falls in rhythm with the movements of their hands rubbing each other. Fox complains softly as the simple touch of the elf's member deeply burns his own, bringing him to a too-fast conclusion. In the middle of his tumultuous feelings, he senses the loving touch of his lord, who drinks from the springs of their twin orgasms as the world explodes.

//My lovely Fox... So warm, so clever, so beautiful... Sleep now, my sweet one. You deserve your reward and your rest... Let me take you to your second test.//

The warlock whistles and from between the big trunks appears Shadowrain, coming to him in a misty cloud smelling of wet leaves and soil. With a nod the black witch re-clothes the Earthling before raising the sleeping form with a single hand to put it across the gem-ornamented saddle. He tenderly brushes a lock falling on the peaceful forehead and mounts behind the relaxed body.

His hooves never disturbing the quietness of the warm afternoon, the ghostly grey horse takes its precious load between the blooming bushes and deep into the shadows.

The young scholar wakes up in a warm patch of light. The sun has passed its apex, and the afternoon air is filled with noisy steps hurrying everywhere. Something is wrong, for this hour of the day should be a time of rest for every beast in the forest. A sense of urgency surrounds him, and his eyes catch glimpses of flying shapes, all escaping from one single direction. Against the inner voice telling him he should join them, human curiosity drives him towards the mysterious spot.

His path crosses way with small and large animals, hares and deers, mice and snakes, foxes and partridges, wolves and weasels, all of them madly running away from some invisible yet powerful enemy. Little by little, crackles reveal the nature of the threat; the smell of burnt wood and a thickening cloud of ashes cause the Earthling to cough and leave no doubt regarding the plague ahead. Fire!!!

Fox stops abruptly, his forehead covered with a sweat of terror, his limbs shaking out of control. Fire he has always feared, he can't even stand the idea of it, since a horde of barbarians tried to burn down the monastery where he had been taken in as an orphan child. Most of the buildings had been saved but not the library where he used to spend the better part of his days after the brother-librarian had taught him to read and to write. Patiently copying the priceless books accumulated there had been an invaluable path to knowledge. And despite being a grown-up now, he still wakes up frequently with the horrid smell of burnt paper and leather in his nose, his eyes blinded by the flames in the middle of which his old teacher is disappearing as he tries to save his much loved treasures.

Under the fire's raging sound Fox hears a choked, painful complaint that keeps him from flying away. Protecting his face with his raised hands, he tries to peer through the smoke, acrid from feeding on green wood. His weeping eyes distinguish a shivering form that remains pinned down, dangerously close to the curtain of flames. It's a doe, desperately calling at something prisoner on the other side of the hellish barrier. The something is far smaller, oscillating on shaking legs, crying pitiful cries of pain and terror: her fawn.

As she senses the human presence behind her, the doe slowly turns around and stares at the young scholar, her eyes pleading, more expressive than any words. The Earthling stares in return, caught between his deepest fear and the compassion filling his heart. Reluctantly, fighting each of his nerves as they shriek in abject terror, he forces himself to get closer to the flames. In a last effort that seems to drain all his strength, he hurls himself through the fire wall and falls near the fawn, slapping his clothes in frenzy, as he feels them burning on his flesh. He bends to take the little animal in his arms and has to search deep in himself to find an ultimate reserve of energy. Pressing his eyelids closed, he rushes forwards, bringing the little animal to safety through the lethal wall.

He falls to the ground a second time, letting go of the fawn, and he crouches, shaken by uncontrollable shudders. He feels exhausted, he has no more drive left to crawl far away from the unbreathable smoke - when he realizes that the air in his nostrils is fresh and green and wet...

He opens his eyes to look around him and what he sees leaves him aghast. The glade is quite untouched, the trees and bushes intact, the atmosphere clear of any smoke... He stares at his clothes that don't show the tiniest spot of burnt fabric. The only sound he can hear is the melody of a blackbird rising clear in the sun, and the only living form ahead is Alex, lying on the ground, tenderly smiling at him.

"It was... another test?"

"Yes, Fox. The second one."

"I had to fight my deepest fear, or something like that? It was cruel!"

"Not exactly. In fact you had to prove your love for life... To acknowledge that each life is worth fighting your own fears and instincts."

"So, there never was a fawn? Nor any fire..."

"To put you in real danger wouldn't have been of any use." The black elf smiles. "But this little deer, even though he was a forgery, left something for you. Here it is," he adds, holding a small silver horn. "The second ingredient to our potion. Take it."

Fox raises his hand to take hold of the horn, and his fingers touch the elf's. He frowns briefly and puts the curved piece of jewellery in the purse that hangs from his belt. Then he turns his head slightly, studying the fine features of his interrogator.

The warlock extends his hand towards him, inviting him to lie in the grass. With a slight hesitation Fox obeys.

"My sweet Fox, I'm so proud of you. I know it was a real challenge. This fear is so deeply anchored in your very heart. The pains one encounters in one's childhood are the most difficult to fight, and your compassion gave you the strength to overcome. Come on, Fox dear, let me comfort and reward you. You deserve it more than anything."

Fox smiles shyly but remains immobile on the lawn. The black elf nods with shining eyes and bends over the young man. "What do you want me to do? Tell me, my love... Do you want me to pleasure you with my hands, or with my mouth? I'm sure you're still shivering inside, even though your courage keeps you from showing it. Let yourself go, sweet Fox, you deserve your rest..."

"Yes, I think so... but..."

"But what? Would you prefer me to take us both back to our dwelling behind the cascade, to our soft couch? There I shall be able to love you and send you a peaceful sleep. You will regain your strength, and I shall watch over you. Just tell me of your deepest desire."

"My deepest desire is to be brought together with my Lord Alex."

"So come, my sweet Fox! Here I am."

"I do not think so."

"I beg your pardon??"

"I said, I do not think so. I want to be with my Lord Alex, not with you. I don't know who *you* are."

The black elf looks for a while at the Earthling, then begins to laugh in a somewhat cruel manner. "Can't you recognize your Lord when you see him, Fox?"

"Please forgive me, but..."

"But?"

"When my Lord Alex's fingers rub mine, as light as his touch can be, my whole flesh burns and shivers. When my Lord Alex's voice rings to my ears, it goes straight to my heart that beats to its rhythm. When my Lord Alex's body is close to mine, my whole body trembles in delight and anticipation. When my Lord Alex talks to my mind, I'm floating at the core of a golden cloud of love and tenderness."

"You touched me, and I felt nothing. You addressed me and my heart remained quiet. You laid me alongside your body, and mine wasn't moved. And you never talked to my mind."

"You bear my Lord Alex's likeness but you are not him."

The warlock looks at him for long seconds with thoughtful eyes, then his image trembles, fades, and recomposes itself into a darker, crooked shape. The silver hand is still there, but the eyes are dark and malicious, the lips contorted in a devilish smile. The new-comer stands up and laughs heartily. Then he turns to another silhouette hiding in the shadow of the trees and speaks,

"What do you think? Did he succeed in his third task?"

Alex comes towards them across the clearing, tall and black in the light of the setting sun.

The Earthling is up to his feet at once, running to his lord. "Alex, at last, here you are!" As the elf opens his arms without further words, Fox throws himself in the embrace and hides his face against the gem-encrusted plastron. "Who is this man, my love?"

"He is no man, my lovely Fox! He has taken the shape of one so he doesn't blind you. A human couldn't stand the vision of his genuine form. This is Lug, the god."

With a gasp Fox turns his head to stare at the cripple. "Lug??? I can't believe it! Is he really the God, Lug??"

Chuckling loudly, Lug inquires, "Don't tell me you never heard of me? Well-learned as you are!"

"Yes I heard of you, huh..., Lord?"

//That's all right, Fox. You can call him Lord or Lug or whatever, gods don't usually regard human actions as particularly worth the effort. But he was here to test you for the third time.//

"And he passed the test in the most brilliant manner. I have to say I am... impressed. I'm not as romantic as you, Alex, but I recognize his love for you is sincere."

The closeness of Alex makes Fox more audacious and he dares to ask, "Then shall you give me the third ingredient for our potion?"

"No."

"Why not???"

"Shhh, Fox," the black elf says. "He has nothing to give you, for you already possess it."

"How that?"

"This love which you bear inside your heart; your true love is the third ingredient. With knowledge and the courage of compassion, we have all that we need."

"And he was here to reveal it; is that how it was? Hey, where is he?"

They're alone in the glade.

//Back to his own business, sweet Fox. If he was even here? With gods, who knows?//

Shadowrain steps between the great oaks that protect the pool and the waterfall. All the way, Fox has kept his arms around Alex's waist, his head tenderly resting on the broad shoulder, lost in the heat of the rider's tall body. As the sound of the cascade reaches his ears, the man's mind wanders... [Swimming. Diving. Floating. Silver fishes gliding along my thighs. Drowning in cold depths...]

"Fox! You promised not to think any more of this foolishness!"

"What? Oh, no! I was just wondering... I'd like to swim a little... The sun is still warm and this day was trying. What about... Do you bathe?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you bathe? Do you swim? Do you like water?"

"Yes, of course! What a funny idea... You'd like to bathe with me, in the pool?"

"Oh yes, Alex! It would be such a pleasure! But... would you..."

"Yes?"

[Will you take off your clothes?]

"To bathe, it seems to be a good idea!" the elf smiles. "All right, come on love..."

The warlock dismounts and helps his mate to the ground. Whilst the grey horse wanders in search of some tasty grass, Alex drops of his cloak, takes off his plastron and leans against a trunk to free his long feet from his soft leather boats. He stares at Fox who is caught by the sight.

"Would you help me?"

"Huh, yes?" The Earthling comes closer, and with shy hands, he begins to unknot the snow-white satin ribbons holding the shirt. Then the shining fabric, vaporous as a cobweb (and maybe it is one) slips along the muscular arms, revealing the naked chest and proudly erected nipples of gold. He is even more astonished, as he discovers that the silver gauntlet is in fact the elf's arm itself. The metallic cover doesn't stop either at the elbow or at the shoulder, it somehow vanishes inside the flesh itself; but not below the armpit, for a sparkling band descends, following the flank to disappear into the black breeches. On it appear mysterious runes as though they are engraved in the metallic-flesh.

As Fox's eyes open wide in bewilderment, questions invade his mind.

The elf gestures him to silence. "Hush, I'll explain you later, for it's a long, long story. Now will you help me with these pants?"

With a greedy smile the human kneels in front of his lover to make the black velvet slip down the slim hips, over the voluptuous thighs and the long legs... He stares fixedly at the manhood of his Lord, an ivory flower blossoming in its nest of sable silk. His hesitating fingers reach the swollen rod to touch lightly the very center of his world. On impulse he bends to put his lips on it but the elf urges him not to do so.

"This could be dangerous, Fox. Remember you must use this potion first. I know it's tempting... Myself I can't wait to feel you around me, to enjoy the warmth of your mouth, the tightness of your body... Come on," he repeats, "I think we both need this cold bath!"

"I undress and I... Oh!"

The human is already naked on a snapping of Alex's fingers.

"You could undress the same way?! Why did you..."

"Didn't you enjoy that part?"

Fox bursts into laughter. With a challenging wave he jumps into the pool, frolicking happily in the water, soon to be followed by the elf.

The sun plunges behind the horizon; surrounded by the chirping of birds and a thousand tiny life noises, the two pale silhouettes float in the darkening waters. Splashing all over, swimming in pursuit of each other, escaping before coming closer and embracing, the two mates play the never-ending games of shared love.

As night closes above the cascade, the first chills run across the human's flesh, and Alex feels that the time has come to return to their stone dwelling. Taking hold of Fox, he transports them to what will be their bedroom from now on. The Earthling notices that their clothes are already waiting on the couch.

Once again he fells on his knees in front of his naked Lord. Raising his hands to caress the white hips tenderly he prays, "Please, Alex, let me pleasure you! You already made me so happy, and I did nothing, almost nothing at all... If I just touch you, I am not in danger, am I?"

"No, of course not."

"So, please... Just lie here," Fox says, softly pushing the warlock back. "Lie down on your bed, on *our* bed," he smiles. "And let me give you back a touch of all the pleasure you already granted me."

The warlock surrenders and willingly complies. Opening his legs he lets the Earthling sit between them and reverently take hold of his elvish flesh. Human hands carefully stroke the opaline rod, the glans whose golden silk faintly glows, and quickly brings it to an impressive size as Alex gently whimpers. //Fox... my sweet, lovely Fox... No one has touched me like this for centuries... You are so tender, so dexterous...// A swirl of sensation storms suddenly through the warlock mind as the pleasure grows closer, and thanks to the improved bond between them, his human mate shares the violent emotions of his Lord. He feels turned on as much as Alex, and his body responds to his own ministrations through his lover's body and senses.

"Fox, Fox! I'm going to come! Oh please, my love... Please..."

Then the elf's virility arches in deep excitation, to pulse and throw his precious seed in long milky spurts on his muscular belly.

"Fox, love... My love... My love?!"

The warlock sits with a swift move to see the scholar's fragile body slip to the ground, lifeless. His face is white as snow and on his lips shines a drop of moisture, a mere dew drop of lethal pleasure...