Le Jeune Guilavene

Chapter 26:

Folken laid down over his smaller partner’s body, effectively crushing boy boy beneath him to reestablish his dominance. Van’s sudden eagerness had nearly won him a position on top, but the demon’s greater experience and weight won out. The stubborn youth growled briefly, but surrendered quickly when Folken took a nibble at his ear.
“Stay just like that,” the Strategos whispered, before pulling back enough to begin removing his clothing.
Van remain where he lay as instructed, stretched comfortably across the soft mass ass and still clothed in his tunic, though the cloth was pushed high up his thighs. He keenly watched as the pale demon reached back with both flexible arms and somehow managed to unclasp his chain mail vest. The metal clothing slid from his shoulders and onto the boy’s stomach with considerably moeigheight than he had expected. As Folken worked to remove his shirt, Van took the vest in his hands and rain his fingers over the ringlets, still warm from their wearer’s body heat.
The pale man finished with his shirt, and deposited both the cloth and the mithril vest on the floor and leaned over his curious mate. The boy looked up at his pale beautifully sculpted abdomen and chest, and could not resist the urge to run his hands over the smooth flesh. He traced the contours of his stomach muscles, the groove of the sternum, and protruding collar bones all the way to the biceps of the left arm. He hesitated slightly as his fingers touched the rapidly healing wound he had inflicted. He lifted himself and kissed the injury apologetically, tasting the coppery blood as he licked the injury clean.
Pleasure vibrated through Folken as Van’s little tongue slid over his skin. He gently pushed his lover back down and smiled at him. Forgave him. He took hold of the boy’s sash and worked it loose until it pulled free completely and joined the demon’s own clothes on the floor. Van blushed and looked away, unintentionally demure. Taking the tunic in both hands, he helped pull the off white material over youth’s head and tossed it aside. Now clothed only in a white loincloth, Van was looking uncharacteristically shy with his cheeks rosy and his arms wrapped around him as if he were cold.
“What’s wrong?” Folken asked, prying the slender arms away from the little body.
“I am not as... well made... as you,” the youth said softly.
“What makes you think that?”
“You are... more muscular, and smoother, and... Unflawed.”
“Unflawed?”
Van sighed and took hold of Folken’s arm and placed his own arm beside it. The demon suddenly realized what his little one was talking about. Folken’s arm was lean, but muscular, and the skin was pale, clean, and hairless. Van’s arm, however, seemed more lean than muscular, and his dark skin was marred by dozens of little scars and imperfections. The demon just shook his head and smiled, taking the mortal’s hard, callused hands and kissing his palm.
“You are young,’ he said, ‘and mortal, and beautiful. Your skin his golden and warm, kissed by the sun. And your hands are strong and flexible from sword play and hardship. And your scars... they are the medals of a thousand adventures, both small and great, and are your most lovely attributes of all.”
As Folken listed his lover’s many desirable traits, he kissed his way up Van’s arm, along his shoulder, against his neck, until finally reaching the young hunter’s lips and and locking their together. His little one moaned sweetly as his own tongue slipped into his mouth. As they kissed, their hands kept busy exploring the other’s body. To Van, the demon felt smooth and firm to his touch, while the mortal felt warm and soft to Folken, despite his impressive mortal strength.
The Strategos pulled away reluctantly from Van. The boy frowned slightly, but did not protest as Folken moved to the edge of the bed so he could remove his boots and pants. After undoing what seemed like a hundred silver clasps, he finally managed to dispose of his boots and shortly thereafter his pants. He wore nothing underneath his pants. As the pale man crawled back to his awaiting lover he was pleased to not that Van had already disposed of his loincloth and was seductively spread out for him in nothing but the familiar pendant. But before he could reach him, the boy held up a hand to halt him.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” he asked.
Folken cocked his head curiously, unsure of what he meant.
“You are not all here,” the youth teased.
The demon smirked. He relaxed the muscles of his back, and then tensed them just right. His wings sprouted from his skin like some great feathery, black plant. They were thin and narrow at first, but a with a single flap the feathers seemed to bloom, momentarily blocking Van’s view of the entire room. Then Folken folded them close to his back and settled himself over his mate. The boy reached up and over the pale man’s shoulder to run his fingers through the feathers, feeling for their softness for the first time.
His fingers traveled from the ebony feathers to the albino’s snowy white hair, soft as any pelt, and pulled him down for yet another kiss. It lasted on briefly for Folken, only too eager to claim his prize, moved his mouth lower, kissing his way down the boy’s golden throat and chest to his left nipple, where he latched on and suckled at the nub tenaciously, before moving to the other. Van gasped, his hands grasping the demon’s shoulder in a powerful grip.
Folken continued his conquest downward, tasting and exploring the golden flesh. He bypassed his lover’s growing erection and moved straight for his thigh, where he bit lightly, earning a mouthful of sweet blood and a smack upside the head. In retaliation, the demon licked the sensitive tip of Van’s arousal once and moved on to explore the boy’s slender legs.
“Damn it, Folken, stop teasing if you ever want to do this again,” the stubborn youth threatened.
“Yes, master,” he teased.
Faster than his lover expected, he took him into his mouth and suckled harshly. Van fell back, a series of lovely sounds escaping him. Instinctively he attempted to buck his hips, but Folken’s strong hands held him steady. His hands clawed the blankets, his entire body straining for the pleasure the pale man was giving.
Folken pulled back just as Van released, but continued to pump his lover’s wilting member. The young hunter lay s, lo, looking decadent with his legs and arms spread across the red silk sheet. The demon admired the view for a few moment before turning back to his new task.
He resituated himself, kneeling between Van’s spread legs. A little pool of cum had accumulated itself across the boy’s stomach, and he collected some and used it to ease the first finger’s penetration. His lover remained complacent after his intense orgasm, and barely even squirmed as the little digit invaded him. For secosecond finger, Folken lifted Van’s leg over his shoulder and cautiously slid in the newly lubricated digit. This time the young hunter tensed and struggled slightly, trying to evade their persistent probing and stretching. They brushed something deep with in and he gasped in sudden pleasure, his member just starting to stiffen again.
“Ah! What was that?” he gasped.
“Lovely isn’t it?’ the demon crooned, brushing the spot again and causing Van to shudder yet again, ‘Just relax and it will get a whole lot better.”
So the normally defiant mortal submitted himself to Folken’s mercy, trying not to squirm from the initial discomfort and mild pain as a third finger was added, as well as keep his sanity every time he brushed his prostate. Finally the demon was satisfied his lover was ready and lifted the boy’s other leg over his should.
He was as ready as he would ever be. Van nodded his consent. The demon smiled reassuringly and kissed him lightly before sliding his slick manhood into his lover’s tight little hole. It hurt almost immediately. After all, Folken was well endowed and Van was still physically a virgin, despite his considerably practice in the dreamscape. However, the pain was gone as quickly as it had come, replaced by that powerful sensation Van had initially mistaken for an orgasm in the bathing pool. After the sensation past, the mortal looked at the demon questioningly.
Folken grinned. It would seem that his healing powers had multiply uses. He slid in further, not bothering to wait for the pain as he sent Van more of his energy. The result was lovely. The mortal was already mad with pleasure before he was even fully seated inside him. The boy mewled helplessly, his legs wrapping around him and trying to pull him deepeile ile his hands held a death grip on his pale arms. It was so incredibly erotic, Folken’s own lust for him clouded his senses by just watching him. Finally he was buried completely inside of him, Van’s hot channel tightened around him sporadically, initiating a delighted purr from him.
He took the mortal by his hips and slid out about half way before slamming back in. A new, different wave of pleasure hit the young hunter as his large mate struck his prostrate, replacine ole old, fading sensations of his donated energy. Another powerful stroke brought a cry from Van, followed by another and another. The both of them gradually degenerated into mere creatures of lust, grunting and panting as they gave and took what they wanted.
Van came first for the second time, and lay completely boneless as Folken continued to ride him. Quickly regaining awareness, the mortal consciously tightened himself around his lover, sending the demon into his climax. With one last thrust, he emptied his seed into the young man.
For a moment Folken did not move, seeming in deep concentration as he hovered over Van. The mortal watched him idly, in no position to do much more, as the demon’s crimson gaze finally lifted to his own.
“That was magnificent.”
“I wouldn’t know. I have nothing to compare it to,” Van teased.
Folken suddenly fell forward on top of him, not even bothering to pull out first. The young hunter gasped as the heavy weight settled on top of him, knocking the air from his lungs. His pale lover’s lips were on him in a second, kissing his fand and lips reverently and Van almost purred himself from the attention. Suddenly, he was lifted as Folken satk ank and came to rest in his lap, the man’s sex removed. Ebony wings encircled them both like a feathery blanket. Van rested his head on his mate’s shoulder, relaxing in his strong arms.
“I do not suppose this means you have decided to join me willingly, does it?” Folken asked softly.
A less than pleasant pinch to his nipple was his only reply.
“I did not think so,” the pale man said, not seeming dismayed in the least.
The Strategos laid back down, repositioning them so that Van lay comfortably on top of him and still wrapped in his wings. The young man did not prot sti still overcome by post coital languor, though nowhere near sleep. For now, they were at peace. Van had nothing to defend and Folken had nothing to demand. What they would make of that evening afterwards was entirely up to them, for neither had stated their action’s meaning and only fools believed sex is the equivalent of love.
They both remained still and quiet as they watched dusk fall outside their window, casting the room into gray shadows. A steady tension began to grow as Van began instinctively aware that they would leave soon and he had yet to come up with a single idea, good or bad, on how to escape. In fact, the more he tried to think about it the tighter Folken’s embrace seemed to get. If it had not been for Nariya bursting unexpectedly in the room, he might have been smothered by the time he thought of something.
“Master, we’ve been found!” the demon woman cried as she threw open the doors.
Before Van could even think to be embarrassed by her impromptu appearance, he found himself set aside as Folken quickly rose from the bed, heedless of his nudity.
“Who found us? And where is Eriya,” the winged demon demanded, even as he began pulling on his clothes.
“That blonde man who kept chasing your prey around. Eriya’s distracting him. I did not see the professional demon hunters, but there are enough men to cause trouble,” she explained, as she handed him the Guilavene family sword.
Meanwhile, Van tried to figure out what was happening. Too wary to attempt to grab his clothes while the demons remained so close, he took a sheet and padded towards the window. As he peered into the darkened garden he saw Eriya flitting by, followed shortly by several men on elk, one of whom he recognized as Allen’s second-in-command. He nearly called out for help, but thought better of it. He did not want Folken using his powers to somehow make him mute.
Van turned to find Folken finishing the last clasp of his boots. The demon then turned to him and approached, taking the mortal in his arms and kissing him possessively.
“Now don’t get any ideas,’ he warned, ‘I will be back soon.”
With that, the Strategos stalked to the bed and seized the sword, throwing the sheath aside, and left the room. Van watched coolly as Nariya closed the door behind them, and heard the latch slide into place. As soon as they were gone, he swiftly found his clothes and pulled them on, sparing a brief moment to wipe away Folken’s black cum that had accumulated on his thighs and belly.
His quick mind, fueled by adrenaline and hope, tried to find something to unlock the door. His gaze fell upon the letter opener on the ground, still where it had fallen. He seized the little blade and eyed it critically. It was certainly too small to be a decent weapon; however, it might be thin enough to slip through the wedge of the door and unhook the latch.
Sure enough the blade did manage to slip between doo doors, but every time he tried to lift the latch it would fall right back into place before he could force it open. He tossed the letter opener away in disgust and looked for something else to use. His attention was drawn to the blue sheath Folken had discarded on the floor. He took it and shoved the tip into the widest crack of the door. It did not go in very far before it got stuck, but Van was satisfied with it. Then he pushed the side of the sheath to the side, using is as a crow bar to try and force the door open. The door groaned in protest, but slowly began to give in to the pressure. The crack widen and he pushed the sheath in further so it would be more secure, and then added more force, leaping and bouncing against the lever.
The latch broke with a loud crack and the door swung wide. Excitement filled the escaping prisoner and he dashed out into the hallway, looking for the nearest exit. He raced down a flight of stairs to the nearest door, but then hesitated. It would be foolish of him to rush outside and find himself back in the Strategos’ arms again. It might be just as bad to run into Allen, as he was unsure of their position with each other since he was last kidnapped. So he changed his direction and headed through a couple of rooms looking for a more discreet exit.
He managed to find the kitchen, which was bigger than his entire house in Fanelia, that had an adjoining door out into the garden. What was interesting about this door was that it was divided into a bottom half and top half, which could be opened together or separately. What Van liked about this door was that the top half had a small hole it that he could spy through without being noticed. As he gazed into the dark garden, he momentarily wished he had gone to the other side of the house to find a door.

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Allen slashed viciously at the demon, trying to break through his defenses. The pale man just moved to the left or to the right without seeming to move at all. Then the Strategos would strike out, just two or three blows, but they were enough send the prince back for fear of impalement. The demon’s obvious superiority with the blade was bad enough, but the fact that he was just playing with the mortal infuriated him to no end.
“What have you done with Guilavene?” Allen demanded.
“Many delightful things you need not worry yourself about,” the Strategos crooned, looking almost as smug as he was irritated.
The prince did not know how to interpret that, and he was not sure he even wanted to.
“Where is he?”
The demon just smirked and sent the mortal reeling backwards with a particularly powerful blow. Allen stumbled backwards until his back hit the white plaster wall of the garden. He seemed to have fallen out of some invisible protective circle, for a second later, one of the female demons charged towards with claws and fangs bared.
The prince lifted his sword to fend her off, but Gaddes was suddenly in front of him, blocking his attacker’s path. His best friend swung both his sword and knife, forcing the woman away to pursue some easier victim amongst the various men scattered about the yard. The brunette turned to Allen and winked at him, warning him to be more careful. The grateful blonde nodded his thanks and sprinted back towards the demon to continue their fighting.

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Van, seeing that his enemies were thoroughly distracted, considered heading back to the front door and escaping, but his conscious made him hesitate. There was no way Allen could defeat the Strategos without assistance, and the demon looked more than ready to kill him. Could he really allow himself to just run away?
Not likely.
Even thought he really, really wanted to.
The weaponless mortal sighed heavily. Sometimes it was such a pain being stubborn. He unlocked the bottom half of the door, and slipped out as discreetly as possibly. He traversed behind some shrubs lining the house, pausing every so often so that the demon twins did not notice him as they ran back and forth amongst their many opponents. Finally, he came directly behind a familiar figure who had wisely positioned himself with the wall to his back so that no demons could come up behind him. Unfortunately, he was not expecting anyone else come up behind him.
“Hello, Dryden,” Van said amicably.
The sword merchant practically jumped in his skin and whirled around to find the young swordsman standing directly behind him, looking well and in very little need of rescuing.
“Oh, hello, Van,’ he said back, ‘Fancy seeing you here... Behind me.”
The younger brunette just smiled and snatched up the other’s man sword before he could recover from his surprise.
“Thanks.”
And then Van dart off, passing between the surprised demon twins and heading straight for Folken. The winged demon had already managed to injure his opponent, slicing him across his sword arm. Allen had stepped back, clutching the wound as blood poured out freely, soaking his clothes and hands. But even as the demon moved in for the final blow, Van was upon him.
The newly armed swordsman struck the demon’s arm, slicing deep into the flesh then stood before him directly, shielding the prince behind him. Folken screeched in surprise and pain, turning his gaze to his new attacker. His crimson eyes widened as he recognized his lover’s lithe form, poised and ready for battle.
“How did you-”
“It doesn’t matter,” the mortal stated, and attacked.
Folken barely managed to switch his sword hand in time to block Van’s first powerful blow. The strike was followed by another and another in quick succession. The Strategos blocked each one, but he was having trouble overcoming his shock. A feigned strike to his chest suddenly diverted upward and the demon barely managed to evade the blade striking so close to his neck. Folken scowled and struck back hard, sending his attacker crashing into the garden wall. There was a collective cringe amongst the mortals, but Van managed to remain standing and renewed his attack as if nothing had happened.
“Fool. After all I have done to you, for you, you still wish to fight me?” the pale demon snarled.
“Yes!” he snarled back, attempting to duck low and strike from beneath.
Folken dodged it easily and brought down his own sword. Van pushed himself sideways and rolled to safety, quickly finding his feet again. Finding his position unfavorable, the dark youth drew back to the garden’s iron gate and slipped into the street. The demon followed close behind, and the others, human and demon alike, stopped their fighting to watch them continue their duel in the street.
The street was on a hill, and Van tried to take advantage of that by taking higher ground. The benefit was only slight as Folken was still considerably taller than him, but at least he did not have to worry about falling over a bush or twig in the middle of the road. Their battle raged on, fiercer than it had ever been before.
Several times Van found himself being forced to retreat further up the street, but was otherwise holding his own. Folken, for his part, was growing increasingly frustrated. He was by no means being beaten, but there had been several moves he was certain should have won the fight, but fell through.
The Strategos feigned right, but then lunged forward, aiming his sword for Van’s arm. However, something golden flashed before his eyes and he found his sword being forcibly pulled to the side. An instant later he felt Van’s blade sink into his leg. He shrieked in pain, but the steel was quickly removed and the youth jumped back.
Folken fell to his knees, groaning from the initial pain. He opened the eyes he had not realized he had shut, and looked to his little one. Within the young swordsman’s hand was his mother’s pendant, the en cen chain glinting slightly in the moonlight. He rapidly pieced together Van’s move, and almost smiled at its cleverness. The youth had used the chain of the pendant to wrap around and pull aside his sword, and then took advantage of the opening it provided. However...
“Why didn’t you go for the kill?” he asked, still on his knees and vulnerable.
The young hunter remained where he stood, his blade pointing towards the ground.
“I don’t know,” Van replied, looking disturbed and uncertain of his own answer.
Folken tried to stand, but his lover’s blade had struck bone and he fell back to the ground from pain. Still, he managed to grimace a smirk and look far too confidant than he should considering his situation.
“Well done, Van. Well done,” he said softly.
“You will go now?” the victor asked, hopeful.
“I will go for now, but I will come again for you eventually,” Folken said.
Van just nodded.
“And you will deliver my letter?”
The demon laughed softly and nodded his head.
“And I will deliver your letter,” he agreed.
“MASTER!” his twin servants suddenly cried and came running at the scent of his blood, abandoning their fight with Allen’s men.
Upon seeing Folken’s injuries they turned enraged eyes upon the one who had inflicted them, snarling savagely and prepared to rip him to pieces.
“That’s enough,” the winged demon admonished, and they both instantly quelled theire ane and tried to satisfy themselves by tending to their master’s wound.
The Strategos allowed them to support him, unable to stand otherwise. He looked to Van, who was already wandering off down the street, satisfied that the battle was over.
“You could still come, you know,’ Folken offered, ‘After all, you can’t possibly want to live this way forever.”
The lithe swordsman stopped in his tracks and turned his head back to the man, his lover and enemy.
“If I have to I will. I meant what I said that night, Folken. I will always fight you,” he said, smiling ruefully.
Van continued walking, passing by the destroyed garden and Allen, who watched them with confusion and interest. There was so much the prince knew he was not seeing. That whatever relationship Guilavene had with the Strategos it was by no means normal by human standards and he was likely never to understand it.
“Aren’t your forgetting something?” Folken suddenly said.
Van turned yet again, confused and slightly wary now.
“You’re not all there.”
That said, the demon tossed back the Guilavene family sword. The young man dropped Dryden’s sword to catch the elongated blade without cutting himself. Something akin to pleasure filled Van as he looked down at the familiar blade. He had carried it through almost his entire journey, and when he had lost it it felt like he had lost a friend. Folken was right, he was not complete without it. He turned back to his gift-giver with a thankful grin, but the demon had already disappeared.
He watched the ebony feathers drift away for a long time, slightly wistful, but mostly relieved. He sighed and turned back tot he garden to retrieve his sheath, when he came faced to face with several dumbfounded looking men. Van blinked owlishly. He had forgotten they were even there.
“What on Gaea are you doing here?”