FIC: Turning 7/7 (Lotrips, AU, Bean/Orlando, NC-17)
Turning 7/7
Author: padawanhilary & telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips AU, Orlando/Bean
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, parts not at all vegan friendly
wtf27 prompt: 02/100 Transformation (animal)
Summary: Orlando's next transformation brings a major surprise.
Word Count:
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Sorry about the totally lame summary, but I refuse to spoil the ending of this one. You're just going to have to trust us. *grins* I'm thrilled that so many people enjoyed this; thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback. Next up is some Viggo/Orli vampire fic with a twist, but since Hilary is on vacation it may be a while.
The first thing Sean thinfs when he gets up the morning before the full moon is that he's getting a chill. His bones ache and his skin itches and he's oddly thirsty. He'd really much rather stay in bed, but he drags himself out, pausing to drink a couple mugs of spring water while he waits for Orlando to wake up. Try not to be too irritable around him, Sean warns himself. Orlando's never in a good mood the day of his transformation and Sean's learned to live with it.
Orlando, for his part, learned a good while ago to cover his own discomfort as best he can. There's nothing Sean can do about it at any rate, but when he finally rouses himself and moves out to the spring, he can see that Sean isn't quite right, either.
"Are you ill?" he asks, bending down to rest his hand on Sean's forehead. "Gods, you're scorching."
Looking up, Sean sighs. "I might be getting a mild chill or some such. Doesn't matter; we need to move the stock into the north pasture before nightfall." He smiles tiredly at Orlando. "I can nap curled up to you tonight, you'll keep me warm."
Sean's eyes aren't as bright as their usual selves, though, and Orlando wonders at that. "I'll move the stock," he says quietly. "You rest. I do not want you falling sick."
"I'm not dying," Sean snaps, and then he catches himself. "Sorry, but I can work."
Orlando quirks his head, briefly annoyed. "Very well," he sighs, but when he looks more closely he can see that Sean is shifting uncomfortably, flexing his arms..."Are you sure you can ride?"
"Yes," Sean says shortly. "Come on then, the sooner begun, the sooner over." He takes his water skin with him and heads toward where he and Orlando keep their personal horses, a small grazing pasture near the cottage. He walks quickly and when Orlando catches up, Sean's had time to think. "I'm sorry, love," he says with a rueful smile. "I turn into a small, petulant child when I'm ill. I'll be all right."
Sighing, Orlando gives Sean a smile of his own. "Given that you tolerate a good deal of petulance from me, I suppose I'll forgive it."
Reaching back to rub irritably at his shoulder, Sean grimaces. "A fine pair we make, yeah?" He saddles his horse and looks over at Orlando. "If we get this done early, we can swim a little before you have to change."
That gesture, though, gives Orlando pause. He watches Sean closely, frowning. "Sean," he murmurs quietly, "what else ails you? Your fingers? Your teeth?"
Sean really hadn't thought much about his teeth, but the moment Orlando mentions it, he notices that, yes, they hurt quite a bit. He flexes his fingers, which also hurt, and looks at Orlando. "My teeth do hurt and the tips of my fingers. Well no they don't hurt," and he looks at his fingertips. "They itch."
Orlando curses under his breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Sean," he whispers, shaking his head. Sean has been good to him, loved him, borne this secret, and now.... "I've...please don't hate me."
"Have you been sick and passed it to me?" Sean asks. "Really Orlando, it's nothing."
Giving an ill-sounding laugh, Orlando shuts his eyes. "I have passed on something more than a chill," he gets out, but has to swallow hard and clear his throat before he can say the rest. "You're turning."
"Of course I am," Sean replies with a laugh that quickly fades as he catches sight of Orlando's face. "Are you seriously saying...?"
"I would not joke about this," Orlando says tensely, gripping Sean's shoulders. "Your shoulders, fingertips and toes itch. Your teeth ache. Your bones ache, your back...you will feel hot and cold all day, and when the moon rises...you already know."
"You are serious," Sean says after a moment. He looks at Orlando in shock. "I'm...like you?!"
Orlando feels sick now. "I'm so sorry," he says, nearly pleading and taking Sean's hands in his. "It wasn't...I didn't mean to." Gods, and Orlando knows that Sean can't possibly hate him as much as he hates himself now.
"How," Sean asks flatly, looking at Orlando through narrowed eyes that he hopes hides how hurt and confused he is. "And why?"
Orlando stares, then steps back. "You think I would do this deliberately?" he asks, stunned and hurt. "I don't know how. The scratches, perhaps..." He grits his teeth, turning away to tend to his horse and prepare her to ride. He hopes he can remember somehow in his dragon form that once the change is complete, he's leaving here as fast as his wings can carry him.
"I'm sorry," Sean says, feeling like a fool. "Orlando...please. I thought...it doesn't matter. I was wrong and I understand you didn't do this deliberately." He leans against his horse and looks off into the distance. "I'm frightened," he finally says, so quietly he's not sure that Orlando can hear him.
Orlando stops, pausing before he turns around again. "I wish I could take it back," he murmurs. "I'd give my own life to stop the change if it would help."
"I know," Sean says, stepping toward Orlando. "Please...am I not allowed to be upset?"
"I swear to you," Orlando says quickly, "I did not mean to do this." He fully understands that Sean is upset, though, and he pulls Sean close, hugging him. "I'm sorry."
For all that he's so much older than Orlando, Sean finds himself clinging to his lover and wishing Orlando could make it all better. "I'm sorry," he murmurs again, not sure what he's apologizing for. "I love you."
"I love you," Orlando answers, only just stopping from apologizing again himself. He hugs Sean tightly. "I'll...I'll protect you," he murmurs, unsure how he'll manage to keep such a promise but surely he can find a way to make it so. Surely he will not harm Sean in that state.
"I don't imagine there will be anything I need protection from," Sean says. He pulls back and looks at Orlando. "Or do you think it's in you to attack another dragon?"
"I've..." Orlando shakes his head. "I've never fought anything but humans," he murmurs. "At least judging by the scars I've come away with."
"There are no humans here," Sean says, "and you've never attacked me in human form." He takes a deep breath. "We'll just have to see what happens, love."
Orlando nods, cupping a hand at Sean's nape. He pulls in a slow breath, then sighs again. "We need to move the stock," he says softly. "And then get away from them."
"Right," Sean says, leaning into kiss Orlando before he pulls away. "I'll be glad of the distraction."
Orlando keeps a close eye on Sean as they shift the stock to the north pasture, though were something unexpected to happen there is nothing he could do. He hates that feeling, knowing that he caused this, however unwittingly, and cannot help with it.
As the day wears on, he notices the increasing of Sean's discomfort in tandem with his own. It takes the day, but once the stock is moved, Orlando waters the horses and feeds them, the weight of the hour pressing on him. "We need to be well away by nightfall," he murmurs.
"We should leave the horses here," Sean says. "Do we have time to walk down to the lower pasture where I put the pigs out?" He feels...stretched now, his skin tighter than it is even when it's been burned by staying too long in the sun.
"We should," Orlando murmurs. He takes Sean's hand, suddenly wanting to relish every moment he can; it will only be three days, but who knows what will happen in that time?
As they walk to the pasture, Sean finds himself watching the angle of the sun. "We've a little while before sundown," he says once they reach the pasture. "Is there anything I need to know?"
"No," Orlando murmurs. "Anything I could tell you would be lost by the time the moon rose. You'll instinctively stay away from humans -- except for those you trust." I can only hope you'll trust me in that form.
"Sit with me," Sean says, settling down under a tree. "Just to...be together."
"Of course." Orlando goes, settling close and wrapping an arm around Sean's waist. "I have a sense that things will change, now."
"The first thing you learn in my business," Sean says, "knight or mercenary, is that most things change." He pulls Orlando closer. "Look at me; I swore once never to fall in love again."
"That's not the kind of change I mean." Orlando sighs, shaking his head. "We can only see when it's time."
"Tell me," Sean says, wanting a distraction from the waiting. "What you do remember of it afterwards?" His questions are usually more specific--"do you remember this or that?"--but now he's looking for something more general.
"Everything seems as though it happened in a dream," Orlando murmurs, playing his fingers over Sean's chest. "And as in dreams, there are bits I can never remember. Sometimes it's foggy." He shakes his head. "Perhaps having you there will help. Do you...will you stay close by for the change?" If there is aggression between them afterward, Orlando resolves to try to remember he wants to get away and not hurt Sean -- or be hurt by him -- but if they remember each other as mates somehow, he doesn't want to spend the three days trying to find each other.
"I had thought to," Sean says. He's silent for a moment and then laces his fingers with Orlando's. "What's...do you like flying?" The moment the question is out, he feels horribly foolish, and he ducks his head a little. Sorry...it's just that you're beautiful like that, you know. When you fly."
Oddly flattered, Orlando smiles and flushes a bit. This nervousness is unusual from Sean, a man who is so confident and seems to be so comfortable in the things that he knows. This is not something he knows, though. This is something no man should know.
"I suppose I do like flying," Orlando nods. "I imagine I find most of my meals that way."
"Before you had someone to buy livestock for you," Sean says with a teasing little smile. He's still masking his fear of the whole situation, still trying not to think of the two pigs tethered nearby or the fact that neither he nor Orlando know if dragons are territorial. On top of it all, his skin is itching rather fiercely and his bones ache and he just wants it to be over.
"If I've ever been unsympathetic," he says after a moment. "I apologize; this isn't easy."
"The fact that you buy me livestock speaks volumes of your sympathy," Orlando teases back, and he has to pause to rub his shoulders against the tree. "Gods. It's almost time."
Sean is out of words and so he pulls Orlando close, kissing him hard. In spite of the edginess he feels, he wants to be close to his lover, wants to make it clear that he loves Orlando.
In spite of everything, Orlando feels his cock stirring. There isn't time, and he's never regretted that as much as he does right now.
Feeling Orlando squirm against him is more than enough to get Sean interested and he glances at the horizon, where the sun is going down far too quickly. "I don't suppose," he begins when he finally ends the kiss, but his words trail off as he feels a strange pain, a sort of dull throbbing cramp that seems to be centered in his shoulders. "Fuck...."
Orlando arches away, grimacing at his own pain. He clambers off, rushing to get at least a bit of space between them. He looks at Sean almost mournfully as he strips out of his clothes as though they are on fire.
All but tearing the fastenings off his clothes in his haste, Sean strips down as well. Even with the strange pain wracking his body, he looks at Orlando one more time, wishing they'd been able to make love. He's not sure why he feels this sense if impending doom when he knows that what is about to happen to him is survivable, but then he remembers Orlando saying that everything will change.
The pain rips through him again, this time so insistent that any thought of not giving voice to it goes right out of Sean's head as he bellows loudly. As much as he wants to be on his feet for this, to face it like the warrior he is, he drops to his hands and knees as another wave of pain washes over him. He's dimly aware of Orlando but even that awareness fades as it begins to feel like his whole body is being stretched on a rack.
As often as Orlando has felt this, he has never seen it before, save for watching his own hands and feet turn into talons and feeling the strange sensation that comes of watching the ground stretch a bit away from him as his neck elongates. Even through his own pained screams he hears Sean's, and that, above all else, he wishes he could have spared his lover.
But in the midst of the pain and the awful, tearing stretching feeling all over his body, Orlando notices the oddest thing: Sean is turning as gold as autumn leaves, different from his own red-black tone, and he manages to spare a thought for Sean's beauty before thoughts like those leave him and the pain is too much to think through.
Even stranger than having a lover turn into a dragon is watching as your own body changes shape and color. Sean stares at the gold scales that are beginning to cover his arms, but then he feels like his body is splitting open down the back and by the time he's finished screaming from that pain, the world around him looks different.
For a moment he tries to remember his self, Sean the mercenary, Sean Ulriksson the knight and favored youngest son of a Jarl, but then it's all gone and he's in the right body, the only body he can even imagine having. Stretching out his wings, he shivers all over as the last of the transformation takes hold, and then he's lifting his head to scent the breeze, wondering where his mate is.
The dragon that was Orlando claws at the dirt and unfolds himself, stretching his wings with a birdlike shiver and giving a low rumble. There is the other dragon, a stranger to the red one's eyes but the scent...as he tests the air, he realizes the scent is unmistakable.
Words form in the red dragon's mind, but they are not the words that humans speak. He knows now something he did not before: there is a link. He's simply never had a chance to use it.
Mine, he says in his mind, approaching the gold dragon. That much he knows is true.
The gold dragon smells his mate a short moment before he hears the red dragon's voice in his head. Yours, he replies, moving forward to rub muzzles with the other dragon. Beautiful, he adds and there's an echo of some other time in his mind; some time before when he's thought this dragon was beautiful and could not tell him.
Feeling the echo, the red dragon moves shoulder-to-shoulder with his mate and curves their necks together. Good. There is no restive sense of hiding from men and there is no loneliness, no fretting over what the mate-who-is-human thinks. All of that seems to fade at once as the red dragon breathes his mate's scent and feels the heat of smooth scales and firm muscle.
Pressing up against the red dragon, the gold finds himself getting excited. He licks his mate's neck and then presents his own neck for licking--and hopefully biting--as he rubs himself against the red. Good, he says, and growls a little out loud.
The red doesn't bother licking; he bites at once, then lets go and bites again, shifting his hold just a bit to get closer. Teeth fixed to his mate's neck, the red dragon draws back, shuffling around to the side and then fitting himself against his mate's back and pushing the gold tail aside.
As much as the gold wants to be possessed by his mate, this is both a little too soon and very much in the wrong place. Lunging away, he sits on his back haunches and launches himself upward, his wings beating down strongly. Come and get me, he thinks, flying in slow circles above the red.
The red dragon snorts impatiently and lets out a low rumble, but his mate is not landing. He shuffles his feet and launches himself, wings pushing air out as he chases after the gold, bellowing.
This is incredibly exciting, and the vague memories the gold has about being a human are nothing compared to the way it feels to fly through the twilight, his mate right behind him. He offers a good chase, but soon he's too eager to be coy any more. Slowing, he lets the red catch up with him.
Still beating the air behind him, the red tumbles into his mate, wrapping his forelegs around the gold's chest from behind and twining their tails together.
Spreading his wings and beating them slowly to maintain the glide, the gold shifts a little, exposing himself to the red at just the right angle. He can smell more than just the scent of his mate's skin now, the harsher, spicy scent of the red's cock fills the air around him and the gold whines just a little low in his throat as he waits for the red to take him.
The red's talons dig into the gold's chest as he drives in, wings spread stiff into the wind. He growls in pleasure, teeth finding that spot on his mate's neck again.
Giving a harsh cry, the gold thrashes in the air at the feel of the thick cock moving inside him. His wings still keeping their slow steady beat, he does his best to remain stable wanting his mate to have the best angle for this.
It's short and brutal, the mating is; already the dragons have peaked and are arcing downward, so the red dragon's first thrusts are his last, as well. He bites sharply, roaring sharp and tense as he spills into his mate, red tail tightening around the gold one as they begin to fall.
The gold reaches his peak as his mate does, screaming at the feel of that thick cock driving into him and the sharp pain of his mate's teeth on his shoulder. For a moment, they fall, twined tightly together and then the gold manages to sweep his wings downward as he untangles himself from the red's embrace. Yours, he says, already aware of how hungry he is.
Mine. Spreading his wings, the red dragon catches the wind again, drifting down after his mate. He's hungry as well, and there is no strange human inkling of unease about that now; everything is different with the gold dragon in view.
Spying the two fat pigs tethered to the ground, the gold settles down next to them and kills one so quickly it barely has time to squeal. He begins to eat ravenously, and no echo of his past gets in the way of eating the animal as it is.
Following suit, the red dragon makes his own kill and then eats, tearing out the meat hungrily and tipping his chin up to swallow. He makes a companionable noise at his mate, idly clawing at the ground in the gold dragon's direction.
Good, the gold thinks, repeating the gesture. Better than...before.
The red finishes his meal quickly, bolting down the rest of the meat and then stretching out in the moonlight close to his mate to groom himself.
Doing the same, the gold leans over occasionally to help the red groom. Must we...can we stay like this? he asks, knowing somehow that there is another way to be, that they've both been something else.
The red nuzzles his mate, licking him in return, and it settles into him slowly, the knowledge of what's happened. He wanted his mate and now his mate is here; they want to remain mates, and so they will.
We can stay like this. The knowledge is as instinctive and real as the dragon next to him. We will.
Good, the gold dragon says, moving closer to his mate. He twines his tail around the red's tail and leans against the red. This is good. he says again and that's more than enough.
* * *
Three weeks later, when the baron came to check on his stock and look in on Sean and Orlando, all he and his men found was an empty cottage. The horses had broken down the gate to their pasture and the baron's men cursed the faithless mercenaries who had simply vanished from their posts and left their charges to fend for themselves.
The baron, however, noticed that Orlando and Sean had left everything behind, including a rather tidy sum in cash and a few small jewels, several very finely made weapons and any number of other small possessions such as their razors and flints. As he helped his men track down the last of the scattered herd, he found the remains of a pair of pigs which had been staked out and then torn into pieces by a pack of wild beasts.
It was only in the fall, when Marcellus Lobardi brought his caravan over the mountains for the last trip of the season that the baron learned the story of Sean the mercenary and his dragon lover. Although he listened for rumors of the two, asking traders and wandering priests for any information about a young man who turned into a dragon and his mercenary partner, no one was ever able to tell him a thing.
One season, years later, as the baron and his lady entertained a fairly well-regarded traveling singer, the baron, as was his wont, asked about the boy who turned into a dragon. The singer had never heard of such a thing, but she asked the baron many questions while the baroness smiled indulgently. The night before she left, the singer sang, as her gift to her patron, the story of the mercenary who was bold enough to love a dragon prince.
Orlando di Fiori and Sean Ulriksson were never seen again in either human or dragon form.
-end-
Author: padawanhilary & telesilla
Fandom/Pairing: Lotrips AU, Orlando/Bean
Rating/Warnings: NC-17, parts not at all vegan friendly
wtf27 prompt: 02/100 Transformation (animal)
Summary: Orlando's next transformation brings a major surprise.
Word Count:
Disclaimer: Not RL; didn't happen. If you think this has anything to do with the real actors involved, then you need to put down the crack pipe.
Notes: Sorry about the totally lame summary, but I refuse to spoil the ending of this one. You're just going to have to trust us. *grins* I'm thrilled that so many people enjoyed this; thank you all so much for the wonderful feedback. Next up is some Viggo/Orli vampire fic with a twist, but since Hilary is on vacation it may be a while.
The first thing Sean thinfs when he gets up the morning before the full moon is that he's getting a chill. His bones ache and his skin itches and he's oddly thirsty. He'd really much rather stay in bed, but he drags himself out, pausing to drink a couple mugs of spring water while he waits for Orlando to wake up. Try not to be too irritable around him, Sean warns himself. Orlando's never in a good mood the day of his transformation and Sean's learned to live with it.
Orlando, for his part, learned a good while ago to cover his own discomfort as best he can. There's nothing Sean can do about it at any rate, but when he finally rouses himself and moves out to the spring, he can see that Sean isn't quite right, either.
"Are you ill?" he asks, bending down to rest his hand on Sean's forehead. "Gods, you're scorching."
Looking up, Sean sighs. "I might be getting a mild chill or some such. Doesn't matter; we need to move the stock into the north pasture before nightfall." He smiles tiredly at Orlando. "I can nap curled up to you tonight, you'll keep me warm."
Sean's eyes aren't as bright as their usual selves, though, and Orlando wonders at that. "I'll move the stock," he says quietly. "You rest. I do not want you falling sick."
"I'm not dying," Sean snaps, and then he catches himself. "Sorry, but I can work."
Orlando quirks his head, briefly annoyed. "Very well," he sighs, but when he looks more closely he can see that Sean is shifting uncomfortably, flexing his arms..."Are you sure you can ride?"
"Yes," Sean says shortly. "Come on then, the sooner begun, the sooner over." He takes his water skin with him and heads toward where he and Orlando keep their personal horses, a small grazing pasture near the cottage. He walks quickly and when Orlando catches up, Sean's had time to think. "I'm sorry, love," he says with a rueful smile. "I turn into a small, petulant child when I'm ill. I'll be all right."
Sighing, Orlando gives Sean a smile of his own. "Given that you tolerate a good deal of petulance from me, I suppose I'll forgive it."
Reaching back to rub irritably at his shoulder, Sean grimaces. "A fine pair we make, yeah?" He saddles his horse and looks over at Orlando. "If we get this done early, we can swim a little before you have to change."
That gesture, though, gives Orlando pause. He watches Sean closely, frowning. "Sean," he murmurs quietly, "what else ails you? Your fingers? Your teeth?"
Sean really hadn't thought much about his teeth, but the moment Orlando mentions it, he notices that, yes, they hurt quite a bit. He flexes his fingers, which also hurt, and looks at Orlando. "My teeth do hurt and the tips of my fingers. Well no they don't hurt," and he looks at his fingertips. "They itch."
Orlando curses under his breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes. "Sean," he whispers, shaking his head. Sean has been good to him, loved him, borne this secret, and now.... "I've...please don't hate me."
"Have you been sick and passed it to me?" Sean asks. "Really Orlando, it's nothing."
Giving an ill-sounding laugh, Orlando shuts his eyes. "I have passed on something more than a chill," he gets out, but has to swallow hard and clear his throat before he can say the rest. "You're turning."
"Of course I am," Sean replies with a laugh that quickly fades as he catches sight of Orlando's face. "Are you seriously saying...?"
"I would not joke about this," Orlando says tensely, gripping Sean's shoulders. "Your shoulders, fingertips and toes itch. Your teeth ache. Your bones ache, your back...you will feel hot and cold all day, and when the moon rises...you already know."
"You are serious," Sean says after a moment. He looks at Orlando in shock. "I'm...like you?!"
Orlando feels sick now. "I'm so sorry," he says, nearly pleading and taking Sean's hands in his. "It wasn't...I didn't mean to." Gods, and Orlando knows that Sean can't possibly hate him as much as he hates himself now.
"How," Sean asks flatly, looking at Orlando through narrowed eyes that he hopes hides how hurt and confused he is. "And why?"
Orlando stares, then steps back. "You think I would do this deliberately?" he asks, stunned and hurt. "I don't know how. The scratches, perhaps..." He grits his teeth, turning away to tend to his horse and prepare her to ride. He hopes he can remember somehow in his dragon form that once the change is complete, he's leaving here as fast as his wings can carry him.
"I'm sorry," Sean says, feeling like a fool. "Orlando...please. I thought...it doesn't matter. I was wrong and I understand you didn't do this deliberately." He leans against his horse and looks off into the distance. "I'm frightened," he finally says, so quietly he's not sure that Orlando can hear him.
Orlando stops, pausing before he turns around again. "I wish I could take it back," he murmurs. "I'd give my own life to stop the change if it would help."
"I know," Sean says, stepping toward Orlando. "Please...am I not allowed to be upset?"
"I swear to you," Orlando says quickly, "I did not mean to do this." He fully understands that Sean is upset, though, and he pulls Sean close, hugging him. "I'm sorry."
For all that he's so much older than Orlando, Sean finds himself clinging to his lover and wishing Orlando could make it all better. "I'm sorry," he murmurs again, not sure what he's apologizing for. "I love you."
"I love you," Orlando answers, only just stopping from apologizing again himself. He hugs Sean tightly. "I'll...I'll protect you," he murmurs, unsure how he'll manage to keep such a promise but surely he can find a way to make it so. Surely he will not harm Sean in that state.
"I don't imagine there will be anything I need protection from," Sean says. He pulls back and looks at Orlando. "Or do you think it's in you to attack another dragon?"
"I've..." Orlando shakes his head. "I've never fought anything but humans," he murmurs. "At least judging by the scars I've come away with."
"There are no humans here," Sean says, "and you've never attacked me in human form." He takes a deep breath. "We'll just have to see what happens, love."
Orlando nods, cupping a hand at Sean's nape. He pulls in a slow breath, then sighs again. "We need to move the stock," he says softly. "And then get away from them."
"Right," Sean says, leaning into kiss Orlando before he pulls away. "I'll be glad of the distraction."
Orlando keeps a close eye on Sean as they shift the stock to the north pasture, though were something unexpected to happen there is nothing he could do. He hates that feeling, knowing that he caused this, however unwittingly, and cannot help with it.
As the day wears on, he notices the increasing of Sean's discomfort in tandem with his own. It takes the day, but once the stock is moved, Orlando waters the horses and feeds them, the weight of the hour pressing on him. "We need to be well away by nightfall," he murmurs.
"We should leave the horses here," Sean says. "Do we have time to walk down to the lower pasture where I put the pigs out?" He feels...stretched now, his skin tighter than it is even when it's been burned by staying too long in the sun.
"We should," Orlando murmurs. He takes Sean's hand, suddenly wanting to relish every moment he can; it will only be three days, but who knows what will happen in that time?
As they walk to the pasture, Sean finds himself watching the angle of the sun. "We've a little while before sundown," he says once they reach the pasture. "Is there anything I need to know?"
"No," Orlando murmurs. "Anything I could tell you would be lost by the time the moon rose. You'll instinctively stay away from humans -- except for those you trust." I can only hope you'll trust me in that form.
"Sit with me," Sean says, settling down under a tree. "Just to...be together."
"Of course." Orlando goes, settling close and wrapping an arm around Sean's waist. "I have a sense that things will change, now."
"The first thing you learn in my business," Sean says, "knight or mercenary, is that most things change." He pulls Orlando closer. "Look at me; I swore once never to fall in love again."
"That's not the kind of change I mean." Orlando sighs, shaking his head. "We can only see when it's time."
"Tell me," Sean says, wanting a distraction from the waiting. "What you do remember of it afterwards?" His questions are usually more specific--"do you remember this or that?"--but now he's looking for something more general.
"Everything seems as though it happened in a dream," Orlando murmurs, playing his fingers over Sean's chest. "And as in dreams, there are bits I can never remember. Sometimes it's foggy." He shakes his head. "Perhaps having you there will help. Do you...will you stay close by for the change?" If there is aggression between them afterward, Orlando resolves to try to remember he wants to get away and not hurt Sean -- or be hurt by him -- but if they remember each other as mates somehow, he doesn't want to spend the three days trying to find each other.
"I had thought to," Sean says. He's silent for a moment and then laces his fingers with Orlando's. "What's...do you like flying?" The moment the question is out, he feels horribly foolish, and he ducks his head a little. Sorry...it's just that you're beautiful like that, you know. When you fly."
Oddly flattered, Orlando smiles and flushes a bit. This nervousness is unusual from Sean, a man who is so confident and seems to be so comfortable in the things that he knows. This is not something he knows, though. This is something no man should know.
"I suppose I do like flying," Orlando nods. "I imagine I find most of my meals that way."
"Before you had someone to buy livestock for you," Sean says with a teasing little smile. He's still masking his fear of the whole situation, still trying not to think of the two pigs tethered nearby or the fact that neither he nor Orlando know if dragons are territorial. On top of it all, his skin is itching rather fiercely and his bones ache and he just wants it to be over.
"If I've ever been unsympathetic," he says after a moment. "I apologize; this isn't easy."
"The fact that you buy me livestock speaks volumes of your sympathy," Orlando teases back, and he has to pause to rub his shoulders against the tree. "Gods. It's almost time."
Sean is out of words and so he pulls Orlando close, kissing him hard. In spite of the edginess he feels, he wants to be close to his lover, wants to make it clear that he loves Orlando.
In spite of everything, Orlando feels his cock stirring. There isn't time, and he's never regretted that as much as he does right now.
Feeling Orlando squirm against him is more than enough to get Sean interested and he glances at the horizon, where the sun is going down far too quickly. "I don't suppose," he begins when he finally ends the kiss, but his words trail off as he feels a strange pain, a sort of dull throbbing cramp that seems to be centered in his shoulders. "Fuck...."
Orlando arches away, grimacing at his own pain. He clambers off, rushing to get at least a bit of space between them. He looks at Sean almost mournfully as he strips out of his clothes as though they are on fire.
All but tearing the fastenings off his clothes in his haste, Sean strips down as well. Even with the strange pain wracking his body, he looks at Orlando one more time, wishing they'd been able to make love. He's not sure why he feels this sense if impending doom when he knows that what is about to happen to him is survivable, but then he remembers Orlando saying that everything will change.
The pain rips through him again, this time so insistent that any thought of not giving voice to it goes right out of Sean's head as he bellows loudly. As much as he wants to be on his feet for this, to face it like the warrior he is, he drops to his hands and knees as another wave of pain washes over him. He's dimly aware of Orlando but even that awareness fades as it begins to feel like his whole body is being stretched on a rack.
As often as Orlando has felt this, he has never seen it before, save for watching his own hands and feet turn into talons and feeling the strange sensation that comes of watching the ground stretch a bit away from him as his neck elongates. Even through his own pained screams he hears Sean's, and that, above all else, he wishes he could have spared his lover.
But in the midst of the pain and the awful, tearing stretching feeling all over his body, Orlando notices the oddest thing: Sean is turning as gold as autumn leaves, different from his own red-black tone, and he manages to spare a thought for Sean's beauty before thoughts like those leave him and the pain is too much to think through.
Even stranger than having a lover turn into a dragon is watching as your own body changes shape and color. Sean stares at the gold scales that are beginning to cover his arms, but then he feels like his body is splitting open down the back and by the time he's finished screaming from that pain, the world around him looks different.
For a moment he tries to remember his self, Sean the mercenary, Sean Ulriksson the knight and favored youngest son of a Jarl, but then it's all gone and he's in the right body, the only body he can even imagine having. Stretching out his wings, he shivers all over as the last of the transformation takes hold, and then he's lifting his head to scent the breeze, wondering where his mate is.
The dragon that was Orlando claws at the dirt and unfolds himself, stretching his wings with a birdlike shiver and giving a low rumble. There is the other dragon, a stranger to the red one's eyes but the scent...as he tests the air, he realizes the scent is unmistakable.
Words form in the red dragon's mind, but they are not the words that humans speak. He knows now something he did not before: there is a link. He's simply never had a chance to use it.
Mine, he says in his mind, approaching the gold dragon. That much he knows is true.
The gold dragon smells his mate a short moment before he hears the red dragon's voice in his head. Yours, he replies, moving forward to rub muzzles with the other dragon. Beautiful, he adds and there's an echo of some other time in his mind; some time before when he's thought this dragon was beautiful and could not tell him.
Feeling the echo, the red dragon moves shoulder-to-shoulder with his mate and curves their necks together. Good. There is no restive sense of hiding from men and there is no loneliness, no fretting over what the mate-who-is-human thinks. All of that seems to fade at once as the red dragon breathes his mate's scent and feels the heat of smooth scales and firm muscle.
Pressing up against the red dragon, the gold finds himself getting excited. He licks his mate's neck and then presents his own neck for licking--and hopefully biting--as he rubs himself against the red. Good, he says, and growls a little out loud.
The red doesn't bother licking; he bites at once, then lets go and bites again, shifting his hold just a bit to get closer. Teeth fixed to his mate's neck, the red dragon draws back, shuffling around to the side and then fitting himself against his mate's back and pushing the gold tail aside.
As much as the gold wants to be possessed by his mate, this is both a little too soon and very much in the wrong place. Lunging away, he sits on his back haunches and launches himself upward, his wings beating down strongly. Come and get me, he thinks, flying in slow circles above the red.
The red dragon snorts impatiently and lets out a low rumble, but his mate is not landing. He shuffles his feet and launches himself, wings pushing air out as he chases after the gold, bellowing.
This is incredibly exciting, and the vague memories the gold has about being a human are nothing compared to the way it feels to fly through the twilight, his mate right behind him. He offers a good chase, but soon he's too eager to be coy any more. Slowing, he lets the red catch up with him.
Still beating the air behind him, the red tumbles into his mate, wrapping his forelegs around the gold's chest from behind and twining their tails together.
Spreading his wings and beating them slowly to maintain the glide, the gold shifts a little, exposing himself to the red at just the right angle. He can smell more than just the scent of his mate's skin now, the harsher, spicy scent of the red's cock fills the air around him and the gold whines just a little low in his throat as he waits for the red to take him.
The red's talons dig into the gold's chest as he drives in, wings spread stiff into the wind. He growls in pleasure, teeth finding that spot on his mate's neck again.
Giving a harsh cry, the gold thrashes in the air at the feel of the thick cock moving inside him. His wings still keeping their slow steady beat, he does his best to remain stable wanting his mate to have the best angle for this.
It's short and brutal, the mating is; already the dragons have peaked and are arcing downward, so the red dragon's first thrusts are his last, as well. He bites sharply, roaring sharp and tense as he spills into his mate, red tail tightening around the gold one as they begin to fall.
The gold reaches his peak as his mate does, screaming at the feel of that thick cock driving into him and the sharp pain of his mate's teeth on his shoulder. For a moment, they fall, twined tightly together and then the gold manages to sweep his wings downward as he untangles himself from the red's embrace. Yours, he says, already aware of how hungry he is.
Mine. Spreading his wings, the red dragon catches the wind again, drifting down after his mate. He's hungry as well, and there is no strange human inkling of unease about that now; everything is different with the gold dragon in view.
Spying the two fat pigs tethered to the ground, the gold settles down next to them and kills one so quickly it barely has time to squeal. He begins to eat ravenously, and no echo of his past gets in the way of eating the animal as it is.
Following suit, the red dragon makes his own kill and then eats, tearing out the meat hungrily and tipping his chin up to swallow. He makes a companionable noise at his mate, idly clawing at the ground in the gold dragon's direction.
Good, the gold thinks, repeating the gesture. Better than...before.
The red finishes his meal quickly, bolting down the rest of the meat and then stretching out in the moonlight close to his mate to groom himself.
Doing the same, the gold leans over occasionally to help the red groom. Must we...can we stay like this? he asks, knowing somehow that there is another way to be, that they've both been something else.
The red nuzzles his mate, licking him in return, and it settles into him slowly, the knowledge of what's happened. He wanted his mate and now his mate is here; they want to remain mates, and so they will.
We can stay like this. The knowledge is as instinctive and real as the dragon next to him. We will.
Good, the gold dragon says, moving closer to his mate. He twines his tail around the red's tail and leans against the red. This is good. he says again and that's more than enough.
* * *
Three weeks later, when the baron came to check on his stock and look in on Sean and Orlando, all he and his men found was an empty cottage. The horses had broken down the gate to their pasture and the baron's men cursed the faithless mercenaries who had simply vanished from their posts and left their charges to fend for themselves.
The baron, however, noticed that Orlando and Sean had left everything behind, including a rather tidy sum in cash and a few small jewels, several very finely made weapons and any number of other small possessions such as their razors and flints. As he helped his men track down the last of the scattered herd, he found the remains of a pair of pigs which had been staked out and then torn into pieces by a pack of wild beasts.
It was only in the fall, when Marcellus Lobardi brought his caravan over the mountains for the last trip of the season that the baron learned the story of Sean the mercenary and his dragon lover. Although he listened for rumors of the two, asking traders and wandering priests for any information about a young man who turned into a dragon and his mercenary partner, no one was ever able to tell him a thing.
One season, years later, as the baron and his lady entertained a fairly well-regarded traveling singer, the baron, as was his wont, asked about the boy who turned into a dragon. The singer had never heard of such a thing, but she asked the baron many questions while the baroness smiled indulgently. The night before she left, the singer sang, as her gift to her patron, the story of the mercenary who was bold enough to love a dragon prince.
Orlando di Fiori and Sean Ulriksson were never seen again in either human or dragon form.
-end-