Council Of Elders Ch 06

I light of the comments by "Anonymous" I have decided to make a list of things I shall never do as long as I write.

1. We the people do hereby swear never to describe a world in which male pregnancy can happen. Ever.

2. We the people do hereby swear never to make a really good monogamous couple have a threesome for NO GOOD REASON WHATSOATALL. You know who you are.

3. We the people do hereby swear never to make characters unnecessarily miserable and useless, even if they're totally submissive power-bottoms.

4. We the people do hereby swear never to write more than a few lines of song lyrics, even if a character is singing said song. If readers can't work out the songs from the clues provided, they should have their Rainbow Badges confiscated.

Enough with all that then.

***

Fenris dreamt. He was wrapped in heavy coats that weighed him down; he was getting uncomfortably hot in all the clothes and began to shout out for someone to help get him out of them. A hand reached into his line of sight and he grabbed at it gratefully. He pulled on the hand but it turned into a long claw that slashed at him. He tried to pull away, but he couldn't get enough distance between the claw and his throat.

"Freddie!" a voice crashed into his dream and he woke with a start.

Fenris' eyes snapped open and he sat up, breathing heavily. At first, he was still half-asleep and he turned from side to side to avoid the claws that vanished like trails of smoke in the morning air. He stopped his rapid turns and wiped his brow, swatting at the sweat that clung to his hair.

"Freddie, are you okay? You were moaning and I thought I should wake you up." Owen had a concerned look on his young face.

"No, it's... I'm fine." He grumbled, scratching at the daily growth of stubble that would have taken a normal man a week to produce.

"So.... Aliens huh?" Owen had his eyebrows raised and a smirk that worried the werewolf intensely.

"I'm sorry man. Caesar gets a little weird sometimes, but he's a good guy." Fenris tried to smile, but he was too exhausted to lift his cheeks enough to pull it off.

"He's one sick puppy alright." Owen glanced quickly at Fenris but didn't get any response from the tired werewolf.

"You can say that again," Fenris lay back and Owen giggled, Fenris sat up and realised a moment later that he wasn't wearing any clothes.

'Fuck!' He thought to himself. 'They must have torn when I transformed.'

"Do you always sleep naked? Things must have gotten a bit hairy last night." Owen choked down a bubble of laughter, but Fenris still didn't notice the wording.

"Mmmm, yeah, hairy." Fenris parroted before catching up with the rest of the boy's sentence. "Wait? What?"

Owen stood up, placed his hands on his hips and bent down over Fenris. He made a playful growling noise and then swiped at the werewolf's furred chest. Fenris considered his next move, goldfishing wildly.

"You could have told me that you occasionally turn into a giant... thing, but noooooooo. I had to be scared out of my knickers when you come clomping through the trees at some ungodly hour and come and rest your head on my lap for the rest of the night."

Caesar popped out of the ground in front of Owen and shouted "BOO!" at the top of his lungs. The young man jumped back in shock and proceeded to chase the elderly werewolf around the campfire, apparently unfazed by the old man's ability to appear from thin air. This momentary delay gave Fenris time to think of something witty and intelligent to say.

"Uhhhh..." he croaked, blinking stupidly. Owen stopped chasing Caesar and stood over Fenris.

"Don't worry about it, I wasn't offended or anything. It was quite nice really; your fur is very soft." Owen giggled again and sat down next to the confused werewolf.

"At least this way, we can finally be honest with each other." Fenris breathed out. "So for starters, you should know that my name isn't Freddie."

"Old news I'm afraid. I worked that one out when you were drooling on my legs. You're not called something tacky like, I don't know, Romulus?"

Fenris blushed and turned away quickly, masking his crestfallen expression. He was proud of his name, even if it was a bit pretentious. Fenris was a great wolf who had bitten off a god's arm after tricking him, and the young werewolf was happy to share the name of the first of his ancestors.

"I take it that Caesar's some sort of ghost then, given his propensity for walking on air and passing through solid objects."

"Well not exactly, but you get the gist." Caesar was scowling at his secret being revealed, but he was more cross that he had given the game away even before Fenris' escapades. "Is that it? There's nothing else that might come up later is there?"

The two conspirators glanced at each other. They agreed silently that Owen did not need to know about his own true nature just yet. They shook their heads and Owen slumped back in a huff.

"Well, that was more disappointing than the last season of Greek. Are you sure there aren't any more juicy bits of info?" They shook their heads again and Caesar's image began to fade.

"Wait, where are you going?" Asked Fenris in alarm.

"Well, now that I don't need to pretend to be 'alive' I'm not going to bother." Caesar leered at him. "And I'm sure you two have lots to talk about."

***

Caesars absence caused an awkward silence between the two men. His last suggestive words had been enough to make them avoid each other's eyes for fear of blushing like a schoolgirl.

"So..." Started Fenris in an overly conversational tone.

"You know what? Screw it." Owen lunged forward, landing on Fenris' still-naked body. He had had more than enough of this sexual tension bollocks. If he hadn't worked out that Fenris had a thing for him on day one, then he definitely figured it out when the werewolf had been snuffling around his crotch like a starved dog the night before.

"What are you- UUNGH!" Fenris cried out as Owen attacked his broad nipples with a euminidine fury, licking and sucking until they felt sore. "Jesus Christ! STOP!"

Owen pulled back with a look of abject misery on his face. He was clearly upset that Fenris had been so underwhelmed by his first attempt.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, his eyes wide.

"No. No, of course not. You were just a little... enthusiastic." Truth be told, Fenris felt as though he had been attacked by lemmings. "I didn't think you'd want to do this so suddenly, I was going to try to be romantic."

"Fuck that! Come on, it's been days and I'm tired of pretending I'm not desperately into you." Owen huffed at the werewolf's sudden reticence and positioned himself so he could get a hand onto the larger man's hardened cock.

He began to move his fist up and down the iron length in easy strokes that sent waves of sensation coursing through Fenris' body. It was so big that Owen could barely fit his hand around it, but obviously he was doing a good enough job from the werewolf's perspective. A bead of pre-cum collected at the very tip of his erection and just as it was about to roll down the shaft, Owen swooped in and licked it away in one fluid motion.

Fenris groaned again and again as Owen continued to treat his cock like an ice cream cone, licking at the shaft and head and mopping up the errant drops of pre-cum that bubbled constantly from the tip. He reached out a paw and placed it on the younger man's head, directing Owen's head bobbing to synchronise with the instinctual thrusts of his hips. Fenris could feel himself losing control, as though he was having an out of body experience. He could see the hand on Owen's head, but he couldn't believe that it was his own. He couldn't believe that he was being so freely sexual, something he had been denying himself for years.

For Owen, this entire incident was a dream come true. He was now practically choking on the enormous head of a dick he had wanted to suck for the better part of a week. He licked the veins that ran along the shaft, supplying it with hot blood that kept it rock hard. He moved his left hand from its place on Fenris' back, to cupping his pendulous balls. His hand seemed to swim in the burlap mass of the werewolf's sack, and he tickled the rolling tide. This touching elicited another moan from Fenris who tried to contain himself but was unable to prevent the inhuman growl from escaping his clenched teeth.

Owen could feel the balls begin to lift up, a telltale sign of an impending explosion. He pulled back and sucked exclusively on the head so that, when Fenris howled and released his load, Owen was able to catch every drop. He was forced to swallow between each volley, but at last he pulled away with a glassy-eyed expression as he licked the final vestiges of cum from his lips.

Fenris was pushed back onto the grass as Owen climbed onto him and began to kiss him ferociously, invading his mouth with a remarkably prehensile tongue. The werewolf could taste his own release in Owen's mouth and the thought that the young man would be carrying his cum in his belly for the rest of the day made him groan again as another spurt blasted from his oversensitive cock.

He was still exhausted from the night before, and he rolled over so that Owen was on top of him. The Daemon's weight pressed down on him comfortably and he wished that they could stay that way forever. As Fenris drifted back to sleep he could feel the boy shifting into a position that would allow them to stay entwined.

***

Fenris woke up a few hours later, his arms wrapped around the boy whose sleeping innocence belied his foul mouth and devilish tongue. He could no longer deny it, to himself or to anyone else. He was head-over-heels in lust. It wasn't the fiery kind that burnt out in a fortnight; it was the constant thrumming of his heartbeat that promised a deeper kind of relationship.

Owen was still fully clothed, still with some semblance of dignity. The werewolf stared at his lover's face as they lay side by side on the grass. He tried to map every feature of the face, noting the flaws and imperfections that made the boy seem so much more human, so much more real. The nose was a fraction too large, the eyes the tiniest bit too close together, the ears sticking out that little bit too much and lips that were a millimetre too thin. But none of that made the slightest bit of difference as far as Fenris saw things.

"You should take a photo. It'll last longer." Owen opened his eyes and grinned warmly at his admirer. "You're going to make me blush if you keep staring."

"I don't care." Fenris smiled back, his expression calm and happy.

"Well I do care. I swear to God, if you two don't stop making goo-goo eyes at each other this instant I'll-"

"And good morning to you too Caesar." Owen rolled his eyes and sat up, the moment over.

"I'd be much better if I didn't have to put up with this lovey-dovey crap." Caesar grumbled under his breath. But it was clear from his face that he didn't have too much of a problem with the whole thing.

Fenris stood and stretched his arms and legs, earning a highly appreciative glance from Owen. He was just about to open his mouth to give a witty retort when a thud from behind him caught his attention. He turned just in time to see the sharp talons that grazed the air in front of his surprised face.

***

The Black Widow had bided her time, but it was a commodity she was running low on. She had to release Brother Abaddon before the Gate closed for another millennium. If she waited too long then the Gate would slam closed and she would trapped in this reality for another thousand years. She had caught his scent on the wind and had followed it to a clearing in the woods. She had maintained enough distance to evade detection by whatever magical field was obscuring Abaddon's thoughts from her. She had found him, but something was very wrong; she couldn't detect any trace of the Daemon other than his scent. Even that was so faint as to be unrecognisable to a less powerful tracker than the Widow was.

She could see two distinct shapes on the ground beneath her flapping wings. They appeared to be lover's deep in an embrace, but there was something odd about one of them. He seemed to be radiating massive amounts of power like a loose pipe that couldn't contain all the water it was carrying. The magic was literally spilling out of him in quantities that should have been lethal to the human next to him. Then the truth dawned on the Widow. The smaller of the two was Brother Abaddon's human shell, as yet unchained from its mortal bonds.

She made a decision and dove down upon the pair as they were just rising from sleep. She needed to time it perfectly, or else the dog-man would sense her approach. She sped downward and at the very last minute curved her wings so that she landed with a thump on the ground. She congratulated herself on an excellent landing, especially since she was half-blind. Rather than announce her arrival more obviously, she reached out one clawed hand and swatted at the dog-man.

***

It was his lightning reflexes that saved Fenris from a sticky end in that moment. He ducked backwards and the claw missed him by a hair's breadth. He swivelled on the spot as another sliced through the air toward him. He turned fully and looked into Owen's eyes, begging him to run away with silent pleas. A claw raked his back in that instant, but the cut was shallow enough that the slashknitted itself closed in moments.

Owen seemed to get the message and he bolted for the tree line just as Fenris called a bolt of lightning from the cloudless sky to strike at the creature attacking him. Impossibly, the jagged fork missed. It splintered the earth where it struck, but the she-beast was unharmed.

He took a closer look at the monster as they circled each other. She had one blood red eye. It looked just like the eyes of the Daemon that Owen been host to. The other socket looked as though the eye had been gouged out of it violently.

Fire blossomed from his hands as he threw flame after flame at the monster, but she dodged each one with effortless grace. He changed tactic and sent waves of cascading ice that flowed from the pores in his skin. The air cooled significantly and if it hadn't been for his thick body hair, he would have begun to shiver. Crystals formed in the air as be breathed heavily from the expenditure of the magic. But the effect was exactly what he had hoped it would be. The monster had dropped from the air as her wings had become too heavy with frost. Her main advantage in the fight now gone, he advanced on her slowly.

"Fenris! LOOK OUT!" He heard Owen shout from the distance. He reacted just in time to stop short of the spider-web of shadows that lay on the path to the creature. They were camouflaged perfectly with the forest surroundings and he would never have noticed them if Owen hadn't pointed them out. He picked up a pebble and threw it into the shadows. It melted.

"What should we do now boy?" Caesar asked from next to him.

"I thought I told you to keep Owen safe?" He turned and barked at the old werewolf, rage in his eyes. The blazing blood lust that was coursing through him was enough to send Caesar scurrying back to Owen's side. Fenris turned back to the creature and grinned, malice marring his handsome face.

He looked into the patch of darkness that the creature was crouched in. There was something wrong with the way that she was standing, as though she were unbalanced somehow. Fenris' tactical mind worked furiously and he made a decision to change his method of attack. If he couldn't get to her, she was going to have to come to him. He raised his hands and made a motion as though he were dragging a rope. The Widow squealed as he was pulled inexorably toward him.

***

'What magic is this?' She thought to herself as she scrabbled on the ground to find something, anything that she could hold on to.

The boy seemed to be desperate to keep her away from Brother Abaddon at all costs. That didn't make any sense, surely he would have killed the Daemon the moment he showed weakness? And why was Abaddon pretending to be a human still?

She flicked between her layers of sight trying to spot something that could inform her. Damn that wretched hag, she couldn't see on any of the planes that had been chopped off during their battle. Finally, searching on the seventh plane of existence, she spotted it. A shining red cord was wrapped around Brother Abaddon's neck; it was plugged directly into the werewolf's arm like an IV drip. If she could slash it whilst viewing the seventh plane, the connection should be nullified and Brother Abaddon would be freed.

Instead of slowing herself down, she suddenly launched forward. This surprised the werewolf so much that he let go of the air and she was instantly free from his magical grip. She soared over him in one leap and landed on the sodden earth next to the small human that Brother Abaddon inhabited. She could hear the thunderous feet of the werewolf racing towards them but she was quick enough that he would never get there in time. Her left arm morphed into a scythe and she brought it down on the boy's neck.

She heard the howl of rage from behind her and cackled as she was batted aside with such force that it broke nearly every bone in her body. She laughed cruelly as she watched the red chord blowing in the wind. She hadn't actually cut the boy, that might damage Abaddon, but she had torn the link that bound him to the werewolf.

***

Owen writhed in pain as he lay moaning on the ground. He felt as though his skin was burning from the inside out. It was sheer agony, but he could still see Fenris overhead, could still feel the hot tears that dripped onto his face from the man holding him.

There was a voice inside his head. It was trying to speak to him, but he couldn't hear it over the blood rushing to his skull. He tried to listen more closely and suddenly he was floating in space. It was a white world that stretched infinitely in every direction. He wasn't alone however.

Standing next to him was an old man. He had a flowing white beard and was wearing a simple white toga held together by a red broach in the shape of a rose. He felt familiar, but Owen wasn't sure where they had met before.

"I suppose you're wondering what's going on." The old man asked kindly. "Well the thing is, you're dead."

"Dead?" Owen wasn't surprised by the statement, it seemed perfectly reasonable given the agony he had been in moments before. "Is this Heaven then?"

"Unfortunately not young man. But this place doesn't really have a name as such." The old man sighed and sat down in the empty space. He motioned for Owen to do the same.

"So if I'm dead, does that make you God?" The boy asked, tentatively sitting on the air. He was surprised when it took his weight.

"Well it looks that way doesn't it? But I'm not God as you think of him." The old man scratched his nose thoughtfully. "I may have created everything, but I'm certainly not in control. I may give a helping hand every now and then, but it's nothing more than a placebo really. You people seem to love the idea that I'll descend from on high and solve your problems, but the difficulty with free will is that I can't do that."

"Then why are you speaking to me now?" Owen had never been religious, but he had always believed that there was something more out in the vastness of the universe.

"Because you, my boy, are special. Born in a world of chaos, raised in a world of order, you are a creature of two worlds. You are unique. The idea that a thing as weird and wonderful as you can find love is something that gives me great joy." God smiled again and clapped Owen on the back like a proud grandparent.

"Okay, I guess. But why is all of this happening? Werewolves and demons and magic-"