Harry's notes, Chapter 7: We are at the halfway marker in this story. The alien race known in fable and joke as Fay, live hidden among humanity, while hiding from the equally alien Formorians who kill them on sight; in the middle of this ancient conflict: three beings fall in love. A man returns to sanity, a Princess serves her people, thousands of new Fay are born, and Oldman, a fourth sentient species, waits for the next energy filled orgasmic release. Let me know what you think of my shower scene.
Thanks IR2R for being kind enough to give me a read through and notes. She gave me many suggestions for expansion and clarification; if I used them all, I would still be writing.
For those of you not familiar with my work, this story deals in part with communication between characters mind to mind. I use the 'em' sign to show when these occur.
This one posts in Fantasy/Sci-fi for the first time; home at last.
CHOSEN MATE
Chapter 7
UNION
Dan na el, Daniel Sand to the human world, looked to his mate Margay's brightly shining white form, then to the fiercely vibrant light of the rapidly diminishing cloud of his grandchildren as they dispersed along the river valley to begin the next phase of Fay life.
The intense red spark, that Harry called Quick, led them away, vanishing swiftly from sight. The sight reminded him of Sandra's own birth, when the bright burst of physical and emotional pure energy that he and Margay created, produced the second quickening in the lifecycle of the Fay, sending her own school of siblings out to sample the world; she led them away followed by Donna's hot pink comet, burning a path behind her.
He sent his love to her, letting it be carried along with the other joyful salutations of the Fay gathered to witness new life joining the Shining People.
As she received it, she returned a daughter's love for a father in a joyful thought, along with an imaginary kiss on lips that were touched by his fingers as he received it.
A mental hug from Margay caused Daniel to draw closer, embracing and pulling her tightly under his arm while she and Sandra cried happy tears across the river of Sweet Water. He touched Harry's mind for the first time, summoning him to a meal, experiencing first-hand the alien presence of Oldman's thoughts as he did so.
Now that the pressing matter of their first brood was over, it was time to begin planning for the uncertain future of his people. The time of hiding was near its end, but not yet. Their enemies would notice the birth. Such a song of celebration had not been performed for hundreds of years. He knew what to expect, as did his people. Even now the revelers were moving away to scattered secure lairs and well established identities while the ones that watched spread their perimeter further about the town of Backwater.
***
Harry woke up with Sandra's wings in his face. It was late morning and she was pillowed half across his chest.
His eyes were sanded with sleep, body covered with a film of sweat from the heat of the burning sun, back pressed into the hard mattress of thinly covered gravel, and his mind, disturbed by the urgent insistent pressure of Oldman's awakening prod, examining the world again.
"What?"
--Get up Harry, now. He sat up, sleepily looking around the still scene. There was no wind, no sound, except for the quiet tinkling of the river as it flowed by. The water looked cool and inviting.
Sandra was brought to awareness as she felt Harry's thoughts rise to the surface of the world like a fish moving to the boundary of air and water. She rose also, sitting up with the covers falling to her waist.
Following Oldman's attention eastward, she found the presence of others coming down the river. Assuming the outward appearance of an awaking participant of a wild night of debauchery and excess, she hung her head and drew the illusion tight about her. Peering through the locks of her disheveled hair she watched and thought only of the hasty lessons that Donna and Silas taught her.
--I see them. Oldman sent, and became silent. Harry saw a canoe float into sight; two men in it had fishing rods propped, and paddles in the water moving slowly downstream. Their questing eyes traveled over the campsite when it became visible and rested on Sandra. She waited a beat while they got a good look, then pulled the quilt to cover her breasts.
--Wave Harry, prompted Oldman. Harry sleepily obeyed, yawning and considering a quick swim before heading home for coffee. The men waved back, passing by the gravel bar, lines trailing in the water behind them, slowly moving out of sight. Sandra began preparing to leave as soon as the two passed behind the tall Cottonwoods, quickly struggling into leather pants and pulling her t-shirt over her head.
"It's time to go, Harry. There is much to do." Standing she began hurriedly folding quilts. Harry dressed, then reached for her body and mind, his arms about her waist and breast, his mind prying at her hasty disposal of the reason the canoes' occupants caused her to hurry so.
She gasped as he reached to where she kept her secret thoughts, letting his mind flow around them. And even though she surrendered to his hands and the ecstatic feel of his scrutiny, sliding silken over her innermost being, she cried in sensation filled desperation as she dropped the quilts.
--I can't, I promised. It's Fathers story to tell. His mouth moved to her neck and laved the hollow of her shoulder; one hand worshiped her breast; the other moved lower; his mind slid teasingly from its search of her mental secrets while his hands sought her physical ones.
--Your father spoke to me last night. Harry's thought informed her as his hands played over goose pimpled skin.
--I know. Mother and Donna both told me. Mother was very interested in Oldman. Bring the stones that have candle wax; I want them.
--This should be fun, a family dinner. I can't wait, Oldman cackled.