Chapter 79 - Tales of the Early Morning
The shadows have eyes, and there are tales of love and death before the day fully starts.
Back to Chapter 78
...His song came from deep down inside
You could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes
And so he traveled along, touch your heart, then be gone
Like a flower, he bloomed till that old hickory wind called him home
My man's got it made, he's gone far beyond the pain
And we who must remain go on living just the same
We who must remain go on laughing just the same
'My Man' Eagles
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlH0I2NvSFs
(cover version, as no Eagles version available)
It wasn't the first night Wind in the Grass had gone out to meditate in the spot he'd found beside the horse lodge, but it certainly was the most confounding. Luckily he was far enough back in the shadows when the two men came out a side door. Not wanting to be seen, Wind backed further until he was around the corner of the building.
Wind in the Grass waited there, practicing becoming part of the shadows, his breathing slow, senses open to any and every sound. It was always good to hone his skills, especially in this crowded city and amongst the white man's luxuries he and White Wing were surrounded with. Wind could not understand what the men were saying, of course, but the tone of their softly spoken words seemed intimate, and then Wind could distinguish the distinct sound of kissing. Sighing, Wind in the Grass let his mind wander while still remaining alert to any personal danger.
Some indeterminate time passed before Wind in the Grass heard noises from the other side of the horse lodge. It sounded like an iron-shod horse and cart. Knowing the shadows were deeper on that side, Wind moved to peer around the building. Mildly curious, he watched the man clad in all black until he rode off up the lane.
The sun was nearly up by the time Wind in the Grass slipped silently back into the main lodge. It was a game for him now, not to be seen by the servants who also moved quietly around in these early dawn hours on slippered feet. White Wing was how he'd left him many hours before; face buried in a fluffy pillow, hair a dark cloud spread across his slim shoulders. Wind tugged the knot of leather holding on his breech-cloth, letting the garment fall to the floor, and slid between the downy bedding. A contented sigh escaped him as the White Wing's warmth and familiar scent surrounded him.
Something shifting next to White Wing disturbed him, and he rolled, murmuring softly in non-words as he came half-awake and realized that Wind in the Grass was cooler than he ought to be. "You have been outside...?" he half-questioned sleepily as he wrapped his arms around his friend and touched his lips to smooth skin, seeking Wind's mouth.
It was still warm here for autumn, and Wind's coolness was delicious against White Wing's warmer skin. His fresh scent stirred White Wing too, and he found himself wanting closer contact. He let a warm hand travel slowly down Wind's torso, and tickled lightly through the hairs curling at the base of the brave's manhood.
"You should be sleeping," Wind in the Grass said, although his body began to firm as always for his friend. Hooking his leg over smooth thighs gave White Wing more access to whatever he desired. "However, you know giving in to your randy nature pleases me to no end."
Wind in the Grass leaned over and sipped at White Wing's lips. "And why is it your desire heightens as the sun greets the day, even when you should be exhausted from the night passed?"
White Wing smiled in the dim light and tickled some more. He knew Wind was already firming up from his touch, but things couldn't be too easy. His own strength was filling too, and he felt a delicious thrill of desire spiral through him as he shifted to allow Wind to feel it.
There was no real answer to Wind's question; since he'd awakened to passion again, White Wing seemed in need at almost any time of day or night, no matter how recently he'd last exchanged strength. And things seemed to be improving with Far Rider-although White Wing had no intention of lying with him just yet-which increased his calm no end. Now, the lovemaking wasn't so much about a release and a way to forget his problems, as a way to celebrate and enjoy the path he had chosen.
"Your strength only encourages my need," he murmured, finding Wind's mouth once more and sliding his damp tongue inside before the brave could answer. This was not a time for words.
"Good," Wind in the Grass said simply once they came up for air. Carding his fingers through silken strands, he brushed White Wing's hair off his face. Although he felt a small measure of sadness, now was not the time to bring up what he'd overseen. That the two men had been sharing comfort over their fallen friend made Wind think more kindly in general about the whites in this lodge.
Leaning down to instigate another kiss, Wind nudged forward as a silent hint for White Wing to do more than tickle so close to his hardness. Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss, twining his tongue with White Wing's, encouraging his friend to explore his mouth. His passivity was calculated. White Wing had come so far in reawakening his eroticism, and Wind relished the times White Wing's desires overcame him to the point of taking the lead. The last time had been a powerful experience when he was pinned to the bed as White Wing gorgeously impaled himself and seemingly shared their strength for hours.
White Wing knew Wind in the Grass was holding back, though he did not fully understand why. He had always taken the more dominant role in their lovemaking until recently, and White Wing began to wonder if he preferred a less passive partner; not that White Wing ever just lay there and let him have his way, apart from when Wind insisted on pleasuring White Wing without having his own needs tended to at the same time.
"I cannot..." White Wing murmured, although he circled the hard strength in his hand and began to stroke it firmly. The thought of becoming the 'brave' did not diminish his lust any, but White Wing hoped his friend was not expecting him to seek Wind's female side.
His eyes widened with a thought that occurred at that moment, and then he sought the interior of Wind's mouth once more as he continued to stimulate Wind's hard length.
Which way would Far Rider prefer things in bed? Was Wind subtly trying to suggest White Wing should be prepared to take the lead with him when their time came?
Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss, purring softly as White Wing stirred him up more. His hips rocked, adding another level of sensation to what White Wing was doing to his sensitive flesh.
"Do you want to share strength by riding me until you have us soaring with your White Swan? Or let me pleasure you in the most earthy ways; swallow all you have to offer and then bury myself in you until we're both drained?"
White Wing smiled; glad that Wind's suggestions were not something unusual for them. Then he bit his lip, and offered Wind a cautious look. "Is there something else you want me to do?" he asked, his heart thumping, although he didn't stop what he was doing with his hand.
Wind in the Grass's eyebrows furrowed, reading the hesitation and something else in White Wing's expression. He reached down to still his friend's hand, lacing their fingers and bringing their hands up to rest near White Wing's head.
"Such as?" Wind prompted softly, loving concern darkening his eyes as he tried to read what was bothering White Wing.
Searching the brave's eyes, White Wing tried to read the expression within. "When you are with Far Rider," he queried softly, a light flush coloring his smooth skin, "Do you... will he want me to...?" He couldn't fill in the blanks, but surely Wind would understand his confusion.
"Do we..?" Wind's frown deepened until realization hit, "No!"
Wind in the Grass was sure the wide-eyed shock now registering across his face had to be comical to observe. Wind's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while he tried to form the right response.
"I would never expect... Far Rider would never..." Wind enfolded White Wing in his arms, rolling a bit more so he could run a hand comfortingly over the fall of White Wing's hair and his back. "Being different from other braves because of our taboo desires, does not mean we..."
Wind paused, tried again. "Yes, I enjoy pleasuring all of you, both spirits that dwell within you, when we share strength. But, I would never expect you to take the male role during our coupling, nor would Far Rider. He is still mostly unknown to you; I understand that, and being of mixed blood you may doubt the sincerity of his white side. Far Rider is Lakota, and does honor the Lakota ways, even if he may seem stubborn about some at times." Wind smiled, chuckled lightly as he leaned in to bump noses.
"Do not fret that he would want you to be anything other than yourself. You are a very special Winkte to share all of yourself with those you hold close to your heart. You give me great honor with that gift, and that is something I should have thanked you for all along." Wind planted a soft kiss to White Wing's cheek then huffed out a breath before continuing, "I believe Swift Arrow--special, open minded brave that he was--also deserves a debt of gratitude for helping you discover both sides of your sensual nature?" he phrased questioningly, wanting only to honor the brave they both loved and missed.
Now was not the time to dwell on the great loss of Swift Arrow, but to ease White Wing's concerns and help him forge what Wind was positive would be an equally strong--if different--relationship with his new husband, Far Rider.
The relief that White Wing felt must have shown on his face, he was sure. He had never taken the more traditional male role when coupling, and at this point, was scared to even try. All of the braves he had been with had only ever wanted to enter him; not a single one had suggested things should go the other way.
Swift Arrow had been the first to suckle him as if he were male, and Wind in the Grass was only the second, though White Wing had done the same for other braves himself, naturally enough. He'd also used his fingers to penetrate, but again, only with Swift Arrow and more recently, Wind. Swift Arrow was responsible for teaching him that this was as enjoyable to the brave as White Wing found it, and Wind had made him realize that perhaps it wasn't as unique as he had thought at one time (although he had always assumed that any Winkte would like it as much as he did). From Swift Arrow and Wind's reactions, he had finally worked out that it must relate to something physical in the 'male' body, rather than a mental thing related to those who appreciated the full duality of their being.
"You do not need to thank me," White Wing murmured, thinking through the words his friend uttered. He swallowed hard at the mention of Swift Arrow, but he could not be angry at Wind for bringing up his name. "But I do thank Swift Arrow-and you too-for allowing me to enjoy so much more than just my female side."
"I admit, I am curious," he went on, wrapping both arms around Wind more fully and studying the beautiful eyes that he hated to see filled with such confusion. "I understand what you are saying about Far Rider, but I cannot help but wonder... Who was the brave when you lay with him? Or was it more like the games we played as children?" He referred to the straightforward kissing and simple caressing activities that brought them to mutual pleasure as teenagers; before they made such discoveries as how it felt to have another's manhood filling White Wing's female places.
A lusty look came over Wind's face, lips spreading into a wide grin. "Far Rider, until I grew confident enough to battle him for control. The new games he taught me; mmmm." Wind in the Grass paused, nuzzling beneath the hair covering White Wing's long neck.
"A very special wrestling match between two braves over something much better than the exchange of a possession," he rumbled against smooth flesh. Originally seeking only to continue lightening their mood with the teasing, the thought of White Wing watching and possibly participating in some way in the sensual wrestling matches he and Far Rider used to indulge in (before more and more Wind took on the brave's role in their couplings), fired Wind's blood with more desire. His cock throbbed against White Wing's thigh and he flexed his hips, creating more friction.
"I can tell you more details while we share strength," Wind in the Grass offered more seriously, "Until you make me incoherent, as you do so well."
White Wing's relief increased at the words. If Far Rider took the more aggressive role to begin, it meant he would be capable of it with White Wing, as White Wing certainly knew Wind to be capable of now, no matter what role he had taken with White Wing's husband.
A pang of unexpected jealousy sizzled behind White Wing's eyes, and he couldn't be certain to whom it was directed. It only seemed odd somehow that these two men should have exchanged strength without White Wing, and yet he was expected to be with one in the future, and had lain with the other countless times now.
The hardness being bumped against his leg drew his ponderings away from the emotion though, and he grinned widely as his own male side demanded attention for itself.
"I would learn some of these games, I think," he decided, "although for now, I will only claim to be above you should I win, not inside you."
He kept his smile in place so that Wind wouldn't think any of it still worried him. For if the truth was told, he did enjoy riding Wind as if he were that spirit of the weather, and playful wrestling to obtain that 'ride' could well be fun.
"Tell me more?" he demanded as he shifted to encircle Wind's heated manhood in his fist once again, and then slid down Wind's body to breathe on the object in question as he turned curious eyes upward.
Grinning as White Wing played along with his teasing and even seemed to ponder all three of them together, Wind in the Grass laughed outright when pushed flat. His breathing hitched, as he was sure White Wing intended, when the minx slithered down his body.
"I would enter his tipi stealthily and wake him by attacking his manhood... such as you are doing now..." Wind in the Grass panted, already having a hard time linking his thoughts together.
"Yes?" White Wing asked, blowing softly on the hardness in his grasp.
Wind in the Grass groaned; the cords of his neck standing out in relief as his head went back.
"Then..." Wind struggled to maintain his shredding control, "he would..." Wind circled his legs around White Wing's waist, twisted, and then kneeled over White Wing's chest, "...do something like this.
"But, you wanted to ride me, not tease me mercilessly, yes?" The grin was back on Wind's face, wondering what maneuver White Wing would do next.
Laughing breathlessly, White Wing had been surprised by the move, but he was perfectly capable of playing the game. Knowing it would unbalance Wind's senses more than any other move he could make, he grabbed Wind's hips and pulled him in as his lips surrounded the heated erection now bobbing in front of him. Quickly sliding his mouth over it several times, he pulled off again and twisted out from between Wind's legs.
He gave his friend a push forward as he turned behind him, easily overbalancing him for real. Laughing harder, he sat back on his heels and waited to see how his friend would react.
The scamp! Despite his face being shoved unceremoniously to the bedding, Wind in the Grass was also laughing when he twisted his upper body around.
"No, oh no, no," Wind shifted the rest of the way to his back. "That innocent pose does not work with that smirk and self-satisfied laughter." Waggling a finger at White Wing, he tossed his hair back over a shoulder and sat up against the headboard.
"You picked up the game well," Wind in the Grass purred, "But seem only interested in teasing, leaving me to take matters into my own hands." Never breaking eye contact with White Wing, Wind licked the palm of his hand, hissing when he wrapped it around his cock for a long, slow stroke.
White Wing's bubbling laughter stopped abruptly and his eyes widened at his friend's casual touch to himself.
"No fair!" he said with a mock pout, and surged forward to straddle Wind's thighs. Hair cascaded around his shoulders as he plucked Wind's hand away from his firm flesh and replaced it with his own. Lifting his eyes to look at Wind, he stroked slowly, allowing his thumb nail to scrape over the sensitive cockhead lightly as he leaned in to brush his lips with his friend's.
"My toy," he insisted, not moving away.
"Always," Wind in the Grass agreed, cupping the back of White Wing's head to deepen the kiss. The sound of White Wing's laughter was the sweetest music to Wind's ears. He could be content with that and the return of his friend's playful nature alone. But, White Wing's sensual nature was also demanding attention. Wind in the Grass broke the kiss slowly and pressed his forehead to White Wing's.
"Let me prepare you," he rasped, what White Wing was doing to his heated flesh roughening his voice.
"Are you sure you can concentrate?" White Wing grinned, speeding up the movements of his hand just enough that he knew it would have Wind near to the edge within very little time, but not yet able to go over. His other hand tilted Wind's head, and he went back for another deep and sensuous kiss.
Giving in to whatever White Wing desired, Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss. Both hands slid into silky strands as he held White Wing's head lightly. As he licked into White Wing's mouth, their tongues tangled, and small moans escaped him after each stroke of White Wing's hand.
"No," Wind answered at long last, interspersing his words with more licks and kisses, "keep that up and I'll impale you as is... despite my desire to make you soar..."
"Mmmm," White Wing smiled, finally letting go of the hardness between Wind's legs. "I don't think you would," he whispered, his lips still close to Wind's. Reaching for the vial around his neck, he uncorked it and found Wind's right hand, untangling it from his hair. "Here," he offered, expertly pouring just enough over two fingers.
Resealing the vial, White Wing clambered off Wind's legs and bent towards the headboard, spreading his legs and pushing his smooth behind out temptingly. "Do your worst," he smirked, turning back to smolder over his shoulder. His own manhood was as rock hard and ready as Wind's, and all he wanted now was Wind's strength inside him and the brave's hand wrapped around it, making him soar as he had promised.
'Do your worst.' Wind in the Grass snorted very softly, then swatted the bottom wriggling in front of him. His most innocent expression was ready when White Wing swiveled his head around to glare in outrage.
"Oh, you meant this?" The fingers White Wing had coated slid down his crease, Wind in the Grass unerringly finding the tight pucker and pressing one digit in.
Comfortable as they were with each other, it did not take long until they deemed White Wing's body ready, albeit, accompanied with moans and non-verbal direction. Wind was shaking with the same need he could feel quivering through White Wing. After withdrawing his fingers, he stroked the rest of the oil on himself, hissing from the urgency to be buried deep within his lover.
"Come ride, White Wing..." Wind's hands wrapped around his friend's hips. "Ride like the wind," he couldn't resist adding.
White Wing would have rolled his eyes at the comment, had he been less desperate to comply, but the games they'd played so far had stirred his need too far, and the only thing on his mind was getting the hard strength on display before him inside his eager body.
Moving quickly over Wind, he soon had things in just the right position to sink slowly onto the bobbing erection. His long shuddering sigh as he slid himself into place made him close his eyes momentarily, and unbidden, the image of his beautiful husband Swift Arrow swam before his eyes.
White Wing would have cried but for the expression on Swift Arrow's face. It was far from discouraging, although in life, his husband hadn't exactly been willing to share him unless it was unavoidable. This time, however, Swift Arrow seemed to be telling him to catch the 'wind' that was offered to him; that doing so was the way to his new husband, odd though it seemed.
"Oh..." White Wing exhaled after another deep breath, gripping Wind in the Grass's shoulders and beginning to ride just as the brave had suggested. He opened his eyes, offering Wind a heated and happy look. This could never be wrong if Swift Arrow smiled on it, not that White Wing had really thought it was.
"Oh, yourself," Wind in the Grass answered, a smile blooming on his face in response to White Wing's. It seemed White Wing had disappeared for a moment or two, his spirit guides speaking to him or something. He was glowing now with such a joyful expression; Wind was not about to mar it by asking what brought it on. Plus, with the heat lingering in White Wing's eyes and the way he was riding, coherent thoughts were rapidly heading the way of all the blood in his body.
Letting White Wing dictate their pace, Wind didn't thrust up; only rocked his hips slightly. One hand stayed loosely clasped at his friend's hip, the other Wind slid up so he could guide White Wing down for a kiss. Again, Wind kept the contact light, wanting White Wing to take the kiss deeper or keep it light and playful; however he chose.
White Wing bent down at Wind's urging, playing lightly, lips upon lips, as he kept up his steady movements over his friend. His pleasure was building wonderfully, and he could probably keep this up for some time, as long as Wind could stand it.
"Aieee," White Wing sang as he altered his angle and Wind's hardness scraped at his inner core, causing him to speed up his movements fractionally. He let go of Wind's shoulders and arched back. The only things keeping him in place now were Wind's steadying hands, and White Wing felt like he was flying. Eyes closed, he could feel the blood pumping through his body, hear the sound of birds around him, and see Swift Arrow over him, guiding him and leading him on.
"Yes... more... please..." he breathed.
Voice joining White Wing's in song, Wind in the Grass looked on in wonder. There was no other sight as beautiful as White Wing lost in passion, soaring with the pleasure and strength flowing through him. All Wind could do was hang on, be the tether connecting this special Winkte to the earth, and fly as best he could with his friend.
At times like this, there was little or no need for Wind to touch White Wing's manhood; it was as if his female side took over completely and he did as all his feelings and emotions desired: he soared.
White Wing had not forgotten Wind in all this, but he was less aware of him as a person, and felt him more as a kindred spirit moving completely in time and rhythm with him.
"Aieeee..." White Wing let out again as his body peaked and he reached orgasm.
The pervading smells of the city faded away, replaced by the beloved scents of the open plains. Wind in the Grass inhaled deeply, feeling the breeze on his face as he soared with White Wing. Strength filled his veins and heated his blood until his release washed over him.
It was long moments before Wind in the Grass felt the bed beneath him and White Wing's body straddling his hips, back arched deeply so his hair flowed over Wind's thighs. Sliding his hand up White Wing's sides, Wind gently guided him forward until he could cradle his lover and friend against his chest.
The thump of tribal drums pounded in White Wing's ears and he breathed heavily as he slowly came down to earth, opening his eyes to realize he was held securely in Wind in the Grass's sturdy arms and that they were inside. He blinked, almost surprised to find he was not in the open, and then managed to lift his head and smile at Wind, his breathing still ragged. His whole body tingled with the most wonderful post-coital feeling.
"We flew today, did we not?" he managed, offering a kiss to the sweaty skin under him and savoring the feel of Wind's strong and comforting heartbeat against his own.
"We did," Wind answered quietly, still recovering from the experience. He kissed the top of White Wing's head and gathered him closer still, "Must be the affirmation of life, after the passing of the white man to his ancestors."
White Wing didn't answer for a moment, his breathing still not quite under control. "Someone died?" he finally asked, snuggling closer to his friend.
Ruing his timing of bringing up the subject, a sigh expanded Wind in the Grass's chest. The thought had been on his mind though, considering how incredible their sharing of strength had been. Wind settled deeper into the mattress, reaching over to pull bedding up and over their tangled limbs and cooling bodies.
"One man was comforting another, then I watched the undertaker load a dead body in a coffin and ride off. Do they even have open spaces for the burial lots the white men use?" Wind in the Grass wondered aloud.
"Did you see who it was?" White Wing asked, curious. He hadn't heard that someone here had died, not that they would necessary tell him, but sometimes he could sense the pain of grief, especially if someone was in need of comfort. Perhaps his skills had not yet fully returned.
One of Wind's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "White man; tall by the shape." If it had been anyone critical in the household, he and White Wing would have heard the rest grieving, certainly. At any rate, he would never understand the white man's ways.
"The horses were not uneasy having the dead man in the stable. You also," Wind in the Grass could feel White Wing's body wasn't as relaxed as a few moments before, "Do not begin fretting what the loss of the man will mean to the people here. He will pass to his ancestors however the whiteman does, and perhaps grief is felt less deeply by these people?"
White Wing frowned, unsure. It seemed unlikely he wouldn't sense something, or that the horses would be undisturbed by the smell of death in the air.
"Perhaps so," he allowed, although he still wasn't convinced. Letting it go for now, he kissed the smooth skin under his lips and settled more comfortably into Wind's arms.
"Far Rider wants me to eat with him in his tower later today." White Wing suddenly felt shy about it; after all, it wasn't a big thing.
Far Rider had made the invitation sound very casual, almost like an afterthought, as he left White Wing yesterday when he'd dropped in to see how his wife was. Wind had been outside then; meditating outdoors presumably, which he seemed to enjoy. White Wing felt more comfortable about being left alone for short periods now, and hadn't begrudged Wind the time out of the house.
Besides, Far Rider was warmer towards him now and White Wing did enjoy his company, especially when he had stories to share. "It's nothing special," he was at pains to explain, "but he said he would tell me more stories about his racing with TJ. I like hearing his stories."
It was difficult to explain properly, but Wind himself had told White Wing plenty of stories, and he knew how much White Wing loved it when Swift Arrow spun tales of their ancestors, or hunting trips he'd been on.
"His tall tales, you mean," Wind in the Grass joked lightly, glad the subject of death was set aside.
It did his heart good to see the two people who meant the most to him finally relaxing and making the effort to forge the bond he knew they were capable of with each other. A yawn escaped him then, and he ran his hands comfortingly over White Wing's back.
"Now that you have worn me out," Wind chuckled and yawned again, "Spin me a tale while I doze until the servants bring our morning meal."
White Wing snorted softly, tickling the skin under his mouth and causing a shiver to run through Wind's body.
"Once there was a lover who cared for his mate with such intensity," White Wing began softly, "that he could not bear to be parted. He sent his spirit guides to watch over his mate every time they had to be apart. But the guides tired of this sport, when clearly the brave could look after himself, and so, after many such times, they forgot their latest mission, and went to play games instead.
"The brave was strong and true, and he loved his mate as much as he was loved, but this time, he was not safe. He was overwhelmed by stronger creatures; men who had come to take over his hunting ground.
"These men had a different faith, and did not believe in the spirits of the earth or in offering thanks for the bounty provided by nature. They did not want to share the hunting grounds, and they attacked the brave's hunting party. The brave was mortally injured, and his companions only just managed to take him back to their tribe before his spirit left him.
"His mate, who had believed his spirit guides watched over the brave, was devastated. His mate died in his arms, and he banished his spirit guides for their betrayal. The lover was lost; a lonely soul wandering in the darkness without his mate and without his guides. He felt as though he were dead too, but he was not. It would have been a relief to join his mate in the otherworld, but the greater spirits would not allow it.
"The lover did not know why, and although he felt as though the world went on without him and he could not take part in any of it, he allowed his Chief to arrange a new marriage. The new marriage was a precaution; a protection for the lover, should anything befall the tribe like what had happened to the brave. The Chief did not expect the husband to stay, nor did the husband expect to be called upon.
"But a time came for the lover to go to the husband. He woke enough to understand this; yet he was still cold to the world and his dreams could not be understood. His spirit guides circled nearer and begged for his forgiveness, but the lover was not ready.
"On the journey to the husband, a young brave was selected as one of the party to accompany the lover, and this brave did not know it, but his care and love for his friend warmed the lover's heart, and his icy shelter soon began to thaw.
"The young brave became the magical conduit which returned the lover to this earth, and slowly, he began to forgive his spirit guides, and they returned to him. His dreams became clearer, and the lover felt able to embrace the world of the living again.
"The husband, at first surprised and embarrassed to find himself with the bride he had taken on in name only, was cold at first, and wanted to send the lover away.
"The lover took comfort with the young brave, and vowed then never to let the young brave suffer the same fate as his mate. He kept the young brave close and offered strength to him at every opportunity. The young brave returned that strength, and made the lover soar like no other had done since his mate had left him.
"The lover learned to read his dreams once more, and his spirit guides, in repentance for their past behavior, showed him a path to gain his new husband's love. The lover began to step on the path, and his heart was further warmed when the husband's coldness began to drop away.
"The lover never forgot his mate, but his spirit often warmed his thoughts when the lover shared strength, especially with the young brave who was his friend. The mate smiled down on the union, and on the joining of his lover with his new husband, and so the lover knew that although his mate was no longer with him, there was purpose in what his Chief had done, and there would be a life for him; one he could happily live knowing his mate approved and would help those around him care for him always."
White Wing's voice had been soft and rhythmic throughout the story, his tone meant to guide Wind in the Grass to sleep, but by the end, White Wing's tears flowed freely, as if the telling of the tale had released the last of his pain.
White Wing knew, at that point, that although he would never feel as strongly for either Wind or Far Rider as he did for Swift Arrow, both men were inextricably linked to his destiny, and he would never let either one go, no matter how far they travelled from him.
Eyes closed, Wind in the Grass let White Wing's lilting voice wash over him. Normally he would have dozed off, until he realized who the tale was about. The word pictures White Wing painted came alive in Wind's mind like he was watching the events unfold from a distance. Sadness filled him, but also a peaceful warmth, as if Swift Arrow himself was enveloping him in a hug.
The hot splash of tears brought Wind in the Grass's eyes open, the vision of Swift Arrow--smiling and nodding as if conveying his blessing--fading away.
"He'll always be close, guiding and watching over you." Wind tipped White Wing's face up and kissed the moisture dampening his cheeks.
Nodding, White Wing was unable to answer. Wind was right, though; White Wing could feel Swift Arrow's presence even now, and he was glad of it.
Nonetheless, he didn't want Wind to feel secondary, and White Wing shifted over him, seeking his lips to kiss. "Sleep now, my friend," he whispered, "and when we wake, perhaps we will share strength again."
Settling back down onto the strong chest of the young brave, the lover faded slowly into sleep, a smile on his face.
Word Count: ~5950
On to Chapter 80
Back to Chapter 78
...His song came from deep down inside
You could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes
And so he traveled along, touch your heart, then be gone
Like a flower, he bloomed till that old hickory wind called him home
My man's got it made, he's gone far beyond the pain
And we who must remain go on living just the same
We who must remain go on laughing just the same
'My Man' Eagles
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hlH0I2NvSFs
(cover version, as no Eagles version available)
It wasn't the first night Wind in the Grass had gone out to meditate in the spot he'd found beside the horse lodge, but it certainly was the most confounding. Luckily he was far enough back in the shadows when the two men came out a side door. Not wanting to be seen, Wind backed further until he was around the corner of the building.
Wind in the Grass waited there, practicing becoming part of the shadows, his breathing slow, senses open to any and every sound. It was always good to hone his skills, especially in this crowded city and amongst the white man's luxuries he and White Wing were surrounded with. Wind could not understand what the men were saying, of course, but the tone of their softly spoken words seemed intimate, and then Wind could distinguish the distinct sound of kissing. Sighing, Wind in the Grass let his mind wander while still remaining alert to any personal danger.
Some indeterminate time passed before Wind in the Grass heard noises from the other side of the horse lodge. It sounded like an iron-shod horse and cart. Knowing the shadows were deeper on that side, Wind moved to peer around the building. Mildly curious, he watched the man clad in all black until he rode off up the lane.
The sun was nearly up by the time Wind in the Grass slipped silently back into the main lodge. It was a game for him now, not to be seen by the servants who also moved quietly around in these early dawn hours on slippered feet. White Wing was how he'd left him many hours before; face buried in a fluffy pillow, hair a dark cloud spread across his slim shoulders. Wind tugged the knot of leather holding on his breech-cloth, letting the garment fall to the floor, and slid between the downy bedding. A contented sigh escaped him as the White Wing's warmth and familiar scent surrounded him.
Something shifting next to White Wing disturbed him, and he rolled, murmuring softly in non-words as he came half-awake and realized that Wind in the Grass was cooler than he ought to be. "You have been outside...?" he half-questioned sleepily as he wrapped his arms around his friend and touched his lips to smooth skin, seeking Wind's mouth.
It was still warm here for autumn, and Wind's coolness was delicious against White Wing's warmer skin. His fresh scent stirred White Wing too, and he found himself wanting closer contact. He let a warm hand travel slowly down Wind's torso, and tickled lightly through the hairs curling at the base of the brave's manhood.
"You should be sleeping," Wind in the Grass said, although his body began to firm as always for his friend. Hooking his leg over smooth thighs gave White Wing more access to whatever he desired. "However, you know giving in to your randy nature pleases me to no end."
Wind in the Grass leaned over and sipped at White Wing's lips. "And why is it your desire heightens as the sun greets the day, even when you should be exhausted from the night passed?"
White Wing smiled in the dim light and tickled some more. He knew Wind was already firming up from his touch, but things couldn't be too easy. His own strength was filling too, and he felt a delicious thrill of desire spiral through him as he shifted to allow Wind to feel it.
There was no real answer to Wind's question; since he'd awakened to passion again, White Wing seemed in need at almost any time of day or night, no matter how recently he'd last exchanged strength. And things seemed to be improving with Far Rider-although White Wing had no intention of lying with him just yet-which increased his calm no end. Now, the lovemaking wasn't so much about a release and a way to forget his problems, as a way to celebrate and enjoy the path he had chosen.
"Your strength only encourages my need," he murmured, finding Wind's mouth once more and sliding his damp tongue inside before the brave could answer. This was not a time for words.
"Good," Wind in the Grass said simply once they came up for air. Carding his fingers through silken strands, he brushed White Wing's hair off his face. Although he felt a small measure of sadness, now was not the time to bring up what he'd overseen. That the two men had been sharing comfort over their fallen friend made Wind think more kindly in general about the whites in this lodge.
Leaning down to instigate another kiss, Wind nudged forward as a silent hint for White Wing to do more than tickle so close to his hardness. Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss, twining his tongue with White Wing's, encouraging his friend to explore his mouth. His passivity was calculated. White Wing had come so far in reawakening his eroticism, and Wind relished the times White Wing's desires overcame him to the point of taking the lead. The last time had been a powerful experience when he was pinned to the bed as White Wing gorgeously impaled himself and seemingly shared their strength for hours.
White Wing knew Wind in the Grass was holding back, though he did not fully understand why. He had always taken the more dominant role in their lovemaking until recently, and White Wing began to wonder if he preferred a less passive partner; not that White Wing ever just lay there and let him have his way, apart from when Wind insisted on pleasuring White Wing without having his own needs tended to at the same time.
"I cannot..." White Wing murmured, although he circled the hard strength in his hand and began to stroke it firmly. The thought of becoming the 'brave' did not diminish his lust any, but White Wing hoped his friend was not expecting him to seek Wind's female side.
His eyes widened with a thought that occurred at that moment, and then he sought the interior of Wind's mouth once more as he continued to stimulate Wind's hard length.
Which way would Far Rider prefer things in bed? Was Wind subtly trying to suggest White Wing should be prepared to take the lead with him when their time came?
Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss, purring softly as White Wing stirred him up more. His hips rocked, adding another level of sensation to what White Wing was doing to his sensitive flesh.
"Do you want to share strength by riding me until you have us soaring with your White Swan? Or let me pleasure you in the most earthy ways; swallow all you have to offer and then bury myself in you until we're both drained?"
White Wing smiled; glad that Wind's suggestions were not something unusual for them. Then he bit his lip, and offered Wind a cautious look. "Is there something else you want me to do?" he asked, his heart thumping, although he didn't stop what he was doing with his hand.
Wind in the Grass's eyebrows furrowed, reading the hesitation and something else in White Wing's expression. He reached down to still his friend's hand, lacing their fingers and bringing their hands up to rest near White Wing's head.
"Such as?" Wind prompted softly, loving concern darkening his eyes as he tried to read what was bothering White Wing.
Searching the brave's eyes, White Wing tried to read the expression within. "When you are with Far Rider," he queried softly, a light flush coloring his smooth skin, "Do you... will he want me to...?" He couldn't fill in the blanks, but surely Wind would understand his confusion.
"Do we..?" Wind's frown deepened until realization hit, "No!"
Wind in the Grass was sure the wide-eyed shock now registering across his face had to be comical to observe. Wind's mouth opened and closed a couple of times while he tried to form the right response.
"I would never expect... Far Rider would never..." Wind enfolded White Wing in his arms, rolling a bit more so he could run a hand comfortingly over the fall of White Wing's hair and his back. "Being different from other braves because of our taboo desires, does not mean we..."
Wind paused, tried again. "Yes, I enjoy pleasuring all of you, both spirits that dwell within you, when we share strength. But, I would never expect you to take the male role during our coupling, nor would Far Rider. He is still mostly unknown to you; I understand that, and being of mixed blood you may doubt the sincerity of his white side. Far Rider is Lakota, and does honor the Lakota ways, even if he may seem stubborn about some at times." Wind smiled, chuckled lightly as he leaned in to bump noses.
"Do not fret that he would want you to be anything other than yourself. You are a very special Winkte to share all of yourself with those you hold close to your heart. You give me great honor with that gift, and that is something I should have thanked you for all along." Wind planted a soft kiss to White Wing's cheek then huffed out a breath before continuing, "I believe Swift Arrow--special, open minded brave that he was--also deserves a debt of gratitude for helping you discover both sides of your sensual nature?" he phrased questioningly, wanting only to honor the brave they both loved and missed.
Now was not the time to dwell on the great loss of Swift Arrow, but to ease White Wing's concerns and help him forge what Wind was positive would be an equally strong--if different--relationship with his new husband, Far Rider.
The relief that White Wing felt must have shown on his face, he was sure. He had never taken the more traditional male role when coupling, and at this point, was scared to even try. All of the braves he had been with had only ever wanted to enter him; not a single one had suggested things should go the other way.
Swift Arrow had been the first to suckle him as if he were male, and Wind in the Grass was only the second, though White Wing had done the same for other braves himself, naturally enough. He'd also used his fingers to penetrate, but again, only with Swift Arrow and more recently, Wind. Swift Arrow was responsible for teaching him that this was as enjoyable to the brave as White Wing found it, and Wind had made him realize that perhaps it wasn't as unique as he had thought at one time (although he had always assumed that any Winkte would like it as much as he did). From Swift Arrow and Wind's reactions, he had finally worked out that it must relate to something physical in the 'male' body, rather than a mental thing related to those who appreciated the full duality of their being.
"You do not need to thank me," White Wing murmured, thinking through the words his friend uttered. He swallowed hard at the mention of Swift Arrow, but he could not be angry at Wind for bringing up his name. "But I do thank Swift Arrow-and you too-for allowing me to enjoy so much more than just my female side."
"I admit, I am curious," he went on, wrapping both arms around Wind more fully and studying the beautiful eyes that he hated to see filled with such confusion. "I understand what you are saying about Far Rider, but I cannot help but wonder... Who was the brave when you lay with him? Or was it more like the games we played as children?" He referred to the straightforward kissing and simple caressing activities that brought them to mutual pleasure as teenagers; before they made such discoveries as how it felt to have another's manhood filling White Wing's female places.
A lusty look came over Wind's face, lips spreading into a wide grin. "Far Rider, until I grew confident enough to battle him for control. The new games he taught me; mmmm." Wind in the Grass paused, nuzzling beneath the hair covering White Wing's long neck.
"A very special wrestling match between two braves over something much better than the exchange of a possession," he rumbled against smooth flesh. Originally seeking only to continue lightening their mood with the teasing, the thought of White Wing watching and possibly participating in some way in the sensual wrestling matches he and Far Rider used to indulge in (before more and more Wind took on the brave's role in their couplings), fired Wind's blood with more desire. His cock throbbed against White Wing's thigh and he flexed his hips, creating more friction.
"I can tell you more details while we share strength," Wind in the Grass offered more seriously, "Until you make me incoherent, as you do so well."
White Wing's relief increased at the words. If Far Rider took the more aggressive role to begin, it meant he would be capable of it with White Wing, as White Wing certainly knew Wind to be capable of now, no matter what role he had taken with White Wing's husband.
A pang of unexpected jealousy sizzled behind White Wing's eyes, and he couldn't be certain to whom it was directed. It only seemed odd somehow that these two men should have exchanged strength without White Wing, and yet he was expected to be with one in the future, and had lain with the other countless times now.
The hardness being bumped against his leg drew his ponderings away from the emotion though, and he grinned widely as his own male side demanded attention for itself.
"I would learn some of these games, I think," he decided, "although for now, I will only claim to be above you should I win, not inside you."
He kept his smile in place so that Wind wouldn't think any of it still worried him. For if the truth was told, he did enjoy riding Wind as if he were that spirit of the weather, and playful wrestling to obtain that 'ride' could well be fun.
"Tell me more?" he demanded as he shifted to encircle Wind's heated manhood in his fist once again, and then slid down Wind's body to breathe on the object in question as he turned curious eyes upward.
Grinning as White Wing played along with his teasing and even seemed to ponder all three of them together, Wind in the Grass laughed outright when pushed flat. His breathing hitched, as he was sure White Wing intended, when the minx slithered down his body.
"I would enter his tipi stealthily and wake him by attacking his manhood... such as you are doing now..." Wind in the Grass panted, already having a hard time linking his thoughts together.
"Yes?" White Wing asked, blowing softly on the hardness in his grasp.
Wind in the Grass groaned; the cords of his neck standing out in relief as his head went back.
"Then..." Wind struggled to maintain his shredding control, "he would..." Wind circled his legs around White Wing's waist, twisted, and then kneeled over White Wing's chest, "...do something like this.
"But, you wanted to ride me, not tease me mercilessly, yes?" The grin was back on Wind's face, wondering what maneuver White Wing would do next.
Laughing breathlessly, White Wing had been surprised by the move, but he was perfectly capable of playing the game. Knowing it would unbalance Wind's senses more than any other move he could make, he grabbed Wind's hips and pulled him in as his lips surrounded the heated erection now bobbing in front of him. Quickly sliding his mouth over it several times, he pulled off again and twisted out from between Wind's legs.
He gave his friend a push forward as he turned behind him, easily overbalancing him for real. Laughing harder, he sat back on his heels and waited to see how his friend would react.
The scamp! Despite his face being shoved unceremoniously to the bedding, Wind in the Grass was also laughing when he twisted his upper body around.
"No, oh no, no," Wind shifted the rest of the way to his back. "That innocent pose does not work with that smirk and self-satisfied laughter." Waggling a finger at White Wing, he tossed his hair back over a shoulder and sat up against the headboard.
"You picked up the game well," Wind in the Grass purred, "But seem only interested in teasing, leaving me to take matters into my own hands." Never breaking eye contact with White Wing, Wind licked the palm of his hand, hissing when he wrapped it around his cock for a long, slow stroke.
White Wing's bubbling laughter stopped abruptly and his eyes widened at his friend's casual touch to himself.
"No fair!" he said with a mock pout, and surged forward to straddle Wind's thighs. Hair cascaded around his shoulders as he plucked Wind's hand away from his firm flesh and replaced it with his own. Lifting his eyes to look at Wind, he stroked slowly, allowing his thumb nail to scrape over the sensitive cockhead lightly as he leaned in to brush his lips with his friend's.
"My toy," he insisted, not moving away.
"Always," Wind in the Grass agreed, cupping the back of White Wing's head to deepen the kiss. The sound of White Wing's laughter was the sweetest music to Wind's ears. He could be content with that and the return of his friend's playful nature alone. But, White Wing's sensual nature was also demanding attention. Wind in the Grass broke the kiss slowly and pressed his forehead to White Wing's.
"Let me prepare you," he rasped, what White Wing was doing to his heated flesh roughening his voice.
"Are you sure you can concentrate?" White Wing grinned, speeding up the movements of his hand just enough that he knew it would have Wind near to the edge within very little time, but not yet able to go over. His other hand tilted Wind's head, and he went back for another deep and sensuous kiss.
Giving in to whatever White Wing desired, Wind in the Grass sank into the kiss. Both hands slid into silky strands as he held White Wing's head lightly. As he licked into White Wing's mouth, their tongues tangled, and small moans escaped him after each stroke of White Wing's hand.
"No," Wind answered at long last, interspersing his words with more licks and kisses, "keep that up and I'll impale you as is... despite my desire to make you soar..."
"Mmmm," White Wing smiled, finally letting go of the hardness between Wind's legs. "I don't think you would," he whispered, his lips still close to Wind's. Reaching for the vial around his neck, he uncorked it and found Wind's right hand, untangling it from his hair. "Here," he offered, expertly pouring just enough over two fingers.
Resealing the vial, White Wing clambered off Wind's legs and bent towards the headboard, spreading his legs and pushing his smooth behind out temptingly. "Do your worst," he smirked, turning back to smolder over his shoulder. His own manhood was as rock hard and ready as Wind's, and all he wanted now was Wind's strength inside him and the brave's hand wrapped around it, making him soar as he had promised.
'Do your worst.' Wind in the Grass snorted very softly, then swatted the bottom wriggling in front of him. His most innocent expression was ready when White Wing swiveled his head around to glare in outrage.
"Oh, you meant this?" The fingers White Wing had coated slid down his crease, Wind in the Grass unerringly finding the tight pucker and pressing one digit in.
Comfortable as they were with each other, it did not take long until they deemed White Wing's body ready, albeit, accompanied with moans and non-verbal direction. Wind was shaking with the same need he could feel quivering through White Wing. After withdrawing his fingers, he stroked the rest of the oil on himself, hissing from the urgency to be buried deep within his lover.
"Come ride, White Wing..." Wind's hands wrapped around his friend's hips. "Ride like the wind," he couldn't resist adding.
White Wing would have rolled his eyes at the comment, had he been less desperate to comply, but the games they'd played so far had stirred his need too far, and the only thing on his mind was getting the hard strength on display before him inside his eager body.
Moving quickly over Wind, he soon had things in just the right position to sink slowly onto the bobbing erection. His long shuddering sigh as he slid himself into place made him close his eyes momentarily, and unbidden, the image of his beautiful husband Swift Arrow swam before his eyes.
White Wing would have cried but for the expression on Swift Arrow's face. It was far from discouraging, although in life, his husband hadn't exactly been willing to share him unless it was unavoidable. This time, however, Swift Arrow seemed to be telling him to catch the 'wind' that was offered to him; that doing so was the way to his new husband, odd though it seemed.
"Oh..." White Wing exhaled after another deep breath, gripping Wind in the Grass's shoulders and beginning to ride just as the brave had suggested. He opened his eyes, offering Wind a heated and happy look. This could never be wrong if Swift Arrow smiled on it, not that White Wing had really thought it was.
"Oh, yourself," Wind in the Grass answered, a smile blooming on his face in response to White Wing's. It seemed White Wing had disappeared for a moment or two, his spirit guides speaking to him or something. He was glowing now with such a joyful expression; Wind was not about to mar it by asking what brought it on. Plus, with the heat lingering in White Wing's eyes and the way he was riding, coherent thoughts were rapidly heading the way of all the blood in his body.
Letting White Wing dictate their pace, Wind didn't thrust up; only rocked his hips slightly. One hand stayed loosely clasped at his friend's hip, the other Wind slid up so he could guide White Wing down for a kiss. Again, Wind kept the contact light, wanting White Wing to take the kiss deeper or keep it light and playful; however he chose.
White Wing bent down at Wind's urging, playing lightly, lips upon lips, as he kept up his steady movements over his friend. His pleasure was building wonderfully, and he could probably keep this up for some time, as long as Wind could stand it.
"Aieee," White Wing sang as he altered his angle and Wind's hardness scraped at his inner core, causing him to speed up his movements fractionally. He let go of Wind's shoulders and arched back. The only things keeping him in place now were Wind's steadying hands, and White Wing felt like he was flying. Eyes closed, he could feel the blood pumping through his body, hear the sound of birds around him, and see Swift Arrow over him, guiding him and leading him on.
"Yes... more... please..." he breathed.
Voice joining White Wing's in song, Wind in the Grass looked on in wonder. There was no other sight as beautiful as White Wing lost in passion, soaring with the pleasure and strength flowing through him. All Wind could do was hang on, be the tether connecting this special Winkte to the earth, and fly as best he could with his friend.
At times like this, there was little or no need for Wind to touch White Wing's manhood; it was as if his female side took over completely and he did as all his feelings and emotions desired: he soared.
White Wing had not forgotten Wind in all this, but he was less aware of him as a person, and felt him more as a kindred spirit moving completely in time and rhythm with him.
"Aieeee..." White Wing let out again as his body peaked and he reached orgasm.
The pervading smells of the city faded away, replaced by the beloved scents of the open plains. Wind in the Grass inhaled deeply, feeling the breeze on his face as he soared with White Wing. Strength filled his veins and heated his blood until his release washed over him.
It was long moments before Wind in the Grass felt the bed beneath him and White Wing's body straddling his hips, back arched deeply so his hair flowed over Wind's thighs. Sliding his hand up White Wing's sides, Wind gently guided him forward until he could cradle his lover and friend against his chest.
The thump of tribal drums pounded in White Wing's ears and he breathed heavily as he slowly came down to earth, opening his eyes to realize he was held securely in Wind in the Grass's sturdy arms and that they were inside. He blinked, almost surprised to find he was not in the open, and then managed to lift his head and smile at Wind, his breathing still ragged. His whole body tingled with the most wonderful post-coital feeling.
"We flew today, did we not?" he managed, offering a kiss to the sweaty skin under him and savoring the feel of Wind's strong and comforting heartbeat against his own.
"We did," Wind answered quietly, still recovering from the experience. He kissed the top of White Wing's head and gathered him closer still, "Must be the affirmation of life, after the passing of the white man to his ancestors."
White Wing didn't answer for a moment, his breathing still not quite under control. "Someone died?" he finally asked, snuggling closer to his friend.
Ruing his timing of bringing up the subject, a sigh expanded Wind in the Grass's chest. The thought had been on his mind though, considering how incredible their sharing of strength had been. Wind settled deeper into the mattress, reaching over to pull bedding up and over their tangled limbs and cooling bodies.
"One man was comforting another, then I watched the undertaker load a dead body in a coffin and ride off. Do they even have open spaces for the burial lots the white men use?" Wind in the Grass wondered aloud.
"Did you see who it was?" White Wing asked, curious. He hadn't heard that someone here had died, not that they would necessary tell him, but sometimes he could sense the pain of grief, especially if someone was in need of comfort. Perhaps his skills had not yet fully returned.
One of Wind's shoulders lifted in a shrug, "White man; tall by the shape." If it had been anyone critical in the household, he and White Wing would have heard the rest grieving, certainly. At any rate, he would never understand the white man's ways.
"The horses were not uneasy having the dead man in the stable. You also," Wind in the Grass could feel White Wing's body wasn't as relaxed as a few moments before, "Do not begin fretting what the loss of the man will mean to the people here. He will pass to his ancestors however the whiteman does, and perhaps grief is felt less deeply by these people?"
White Wing frowned, unsure. It seemed unlikely he wouldn't sense something, or that the horses would be undisturbed by the smell of death in the air.
"Perhaps so," he allowed, although he still wasn't convinced. Letting it go for now, he kissed the smooth skin under his lips and settled more comfortably into Wind's arms.
"Far Rider wants me to eat with him in his tower later today." White Wing suddenly felt shy about it; after all, it wasn't a big thing.
Far Rider had made the invitation sound very casual, almost like an afterthought, as he left White Wing yesterday when he'd dropped in to see how his wife was. Wind had been outside then; meditating outdoors presumably, which he seemed to enjoy. White Wing felt more comfortable about being left alone for short periods now, and hadn't begrudged Wind the time out of the house.
Besides, Far Rider was warmer towards him now and White Wing did enjoy his company, especially when he had stories to share. "It's nothing special," he was at pains to explain, "but he said he would tell me more stories about his racing with TJ. I like hearing his stories."
It was difficult to explain properly, but Wind himself had told White Wing plenty of stories, and he knew how much White Wing loved it when Swift Arrow spun tales of their ancestors, or hunting trips he'd been on.
"His tall tales, you mean," Wind in the Grass joked lightly, glad the subject of death was set aside.
It did his heart good to see the two people who meant the most to him finally relaxing and making the effort to forge the bond he knew they were capable of with each other. A yawn escaped him then, and he ran his hands comfortingly over White Wing's back.
"Now that you have worn me out," Wind chuckled and yawned again, "Spin me a tale while I doze until the servants bring our morning meal."
White Wing snorted softly, tickling the skin under his mouth and causing a shiver to run through Wind's body.
"Once there was a lover who cared for his mate with such intensity," White Wing began softly, "that he could not bear to be parted. He sent his spirit guides to watch over his mate every time they had to be apart. But the guides tired of this sport, when clearly the brave could look after himself, and so, after many such times, they forgot their latest mission, and went to play games instead.
"The brave was strong and true, and he loved his mate as much as he was loved, but this time, he was not safe. He was overwhelmed by stronger creatures; men who had come to take over his hunting ground.
"These men had a different faith, and did not believe in the spirits of the earth or in offering thanks for the bounty provided by nature. They did not want to share the hunting grounds, and they attacked the brave's hunting party. The brave was mortally injured, and his companions only just managed to take him back to their tribe before his spirit left him.
"His mate, who had believed his spirit guides watched over the brave, was devastated. His mate died in his arms, and he banished his spirit guides for their betrayal. The lover was lost; a lonely soul wandering in the darkness without his mate and without his guides. He felt as though he were dead too, but he was not. It would have been a relief to join his mate in the otherworld, but the greater spirits would not allow it.
"The lover did not know why, and although he felt as though the world went on without him and he could not take part in any of it, he allowed his Chief to arrange a new marriage. The new marriage was a precaution; a protection for the lover, should anything befall the tribe like what had happened to the brave. The Chief did not expect the husband to stay, nor did the husband expect to be called upon.
"But a time came for the lover to go to the husband. He woke enough to understand this; yet he was still cold to the world and his dreams could not be understood. His spirit guides circled nearer and begged for his forgiveness, but the lover was not ready.
"On the journey to the husband, a young brave was selected as one of the party to accompany the lover, and this brave did not know it, but his care and love for his friend warmed the lover's heart, and his icy shelter soon began to thaw.
"The young brave became the magical conduit which returned the lover to this earth, and slowly, he began to forgive his spirit guides, and they returned to him. His dreams became clearer, and the lover felt able to embrace the world of the living again.
"The husband, at first surprised and embarrassed to find himself with the bride he had taken on in name only, was cold at first, and wanted to send the lover away.
"The lover took comfort with the young brave, and vowed then never to let the young brave suffer the same fate as his mate. He kept the young brave close and offered strength to him at every opportunity. The young brave returned that strength, and made the lover soar like no other had done since his mate had left him.
"The lover learned to read his dreams once more, and his spirit guides, in repentance for their past behavior, showed him a path to gain his new husband's love. The lover began to step on the path, and his heart was further warmed when the husband's coldness began to drop away.
"The lover never forgot his mate, but his spirit often warmed his thoughts when the lover shared strength, especially with the young brave who was his friend. The mate smiled down on the union, and on the joining of his lover with his new husband, and so the lover knew that although his mate was no longer with him, there was purpose in what his Chief had done, and there would be a life for him; one he could happily live knowing his mate approved and would help those around him care for him always."
White Wing's voice had been soft and rhythmic throughout the story, his tone meant to guide Wind in the Grass to sleep, but by the end, White Wing's tears flowed freely, as if the telling of the tale had released the last of his pain.
White Wing knew, at that point, that although he would never feel as strongly for either Wind or Far Rider as he did for Swift Arrow, both men were inextricably linked to his destiny, and he would never let either one go, no matter how far they travelled from him.
Eyes closed, Wind in the Grass let White Wing's lilting voice wash over him. Normally he would have dozed off, until he realized who the tale was about. The word pictures White Wing painted came alive in Wind's mind like he was watching the events unfold from a distance. Sadness filled him, but also a peaceful warmth, as if Swift Arrow himself was enveloping him in a hug.
The hot splash of tears brought Wind in the Grass's eyes open, the vision of Swift Arrow--smiling and nodding as if conveying his blessing--fading away.
"He'll always be close, guiding and watching over you." Wind tipped White Wing's face up and kissed the moisture dampening his cheeks.
Nodding, White Wing was unable to answer. Wind was right, though; White Wing could feel Swift Arrow's presence even now, and he was glad of it.
Nonetheless, he didn't want Wind to feel secondary, and White Wing shifted over him, seeking his lips to kiss. "Sleep now, my friend," he whispered, "and when we wake, perhaps we will share strength again."
Settling back down onto the strong chest of the young brave, the lover faded slowly into sleep, a smile on his face.
Word Count: ~5950
On to Chapter 80