Chosen Mate Ch. 07

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.

--You'll sit at the children's table, Sandra threatened, bending and pressing her buckskinned backside against Harry's jeans and moving it busily while picking up the dropped quilts then walking away to the truck; an unspoken invitation flashed in the pale blue eyes glancing behind her.

--Heel boy. Oldman said. Harry groaned then tossed the remainder of the camping supplies and debris into the drained coolers. He threw all stones used in the ceremony last night into the truck bed and then sat on the letdown tailgate as Sandra drove to the gate and then home. The cool water vanishing from sight held Harry's eyes.

Sandra was out of the truck door and romping with Max as soon as she rolled to a stop under the Cedar tree. She let the dog catch her, and then tumbled across the yard as he bounced around her in excited circles. Harry got out and waved to Maddie, sitting on a bench in the shade and egging on the dog in his playful assault. Harry left for the shop, where several strange vehicles and Bob's Corolla were parked.

Gerry was in the center of the shop talking to Bob who was nodding along with Gerry's words. Bob had a brown and gold stubby aura that echoed his height and girth; it glowed placidly alongside Gerry. Fay were loading boxes of leather goods into the open trunk of the ancient Toyota as they were checked off on the clipboard in Gerry's hands. It seemed that business was good within the family.

"I feel like I'm running a sweat shop." Harry announced from the door. A group of Fay ladies nodded obeisance from a circle where they sat sewing and lacing leather garments. They chatted back and forth while their fingers blurred with activity. Other Fay were cutting patterns from tanned and dyed leather hides or passing through the floor often while still moving. Harry eyes fell on the pile of leather dust under the sanders.

--Oldman, can you see my memories of a tale about a shoe maker that was befriended by fairies? Oldman searched out the story and examined the plot. Harry's eyes returned to the brightly colored group of Fay ladies, and their speed and quality of work.

--Yeah, I see it; but the story is reversed here. You had to see the fairies before they helped you. Look in the back of the shop. Harry's attention turned at the clatter of pool balls.

Four short muscular Fay drank from cups of wine as they played pool in the back of the shop. He watched as one knotted fairy, barely five foot tall, sank a three rail shot to the groans of the others who began tossing small gold and silver coins to the tabletop. The winner had brown wings with pale copper strands running through it. The three remaining Fay around the table had iridescent black auras that shimmered with indigo, blue, and purple highlights. Oldman's mind told him they were Crows; The brown one was Hawk, their leader.

--Game over you think? Oldman asked. The winner tossed a coin to the tip cup, kept by the cue holder, then advanced to where Harry watched, meeting his eyes in an inquisitive manner. Oldman looked over the surface of the winners mind and found his true name there as if it were a sticky name tag at some seminar.

The Hawk's gaze roamed over Harry's face as he met the Princess' mate for the first time, but his mind was intent upon Oldman. The crack of a broken rack sounded behind him as another game was started.

--Leo nar di, I greet you. Oldman thought to the compact being before them, while Harry performed the mannerly obeisance practiced by the Fay. Harry's mind observed Oldman's inspection.

"I greet you Oldman and you Har ri na." His ears were pricked forward as he spoke and his thoughts were intent on the dual minded body in interest. 'Gemini' his thoughts betrayed him.

--More like Cerberus. Oldman countered. Leonard's owl-like eyes widened then blinked; he added some opacity to his mind, saying nothing but continuing his fixed, interested examination with surprise.

--No, I'm a Pisces, replied Harry, not to be undone by Oldman. Leonard's ears turned out and his brow wrinkled. He saw Gerry turn away from Bob's retreating back and sent a silent plea.

The sound of Bobs Corolla winding up and the distinctive sound of the vehicle as it puttered away slowly was accompanied by the 'Whop' of Gerry's hand on his shoulder.

"Harry, I see you've met Leonard. I brought him in when I started seeing sketches in your pads that weren't leather goods." his mind glanced to Oldman's presence and comment.

--Never thought a fairy would look like a linebacker. Gerry drew his body erect, squaring his shoulders.

--Watch who you call a fairy, he countered, with semi-angry thought, hiding real laughter and affection for the strange entity that was mated to his mates sister.

"Leonard is going to be heading the design team." he continued, in seamless riposte and comment. "We need to talk to you about some of your ideas, this one in particular." He said turning and gesturing to Leonard who held up a pad that was covered in drawings and notes and queried with a pointing finger.

"This is steering?" Harry peered at the drawings and smiled at the idea that consumed him.

"Ah, my LTA, or maybe I should call it my XLTA, since it is experimental. I've never seen one like it."

--Not just another bag of gas pushed around the sky. Oldman sent.

"Nor have we Har ri na," said Leonard. "And this tube down the center, the motor is there?"

"Yes. It will burn all combustible fluids; the technology has been available for some time." said Harry, wondering why Leonard spoke instead of thought. "It has less drag, more control, pushes air into the steering like a jet boat does water, then redirects it. It should be very maneuverable at super low speeds. More maneuverable period; I can see it flying in my dreams. It should be quick as a kite in the wind. I never finished a conceptualized drawing of the craft without more information about weight, lift, and displacement."

Harry raised a finger to continue his lecture when a call seemed to reverberate in the shop. He stopped with his mouth open, eyes searching for the source. Leonard moved to the table, changing into a short young muscular man with t-shirt, jeans, and a baseball cap; he joined the now similarly clad group of Fay there. Oldman's thoughts followed Leonard, supplying answers to continued questions. Harry became distracted by the realization that he had seen the men around the table before in town.

Harry turned with Gerry at Maximillion's barking escort of the U.P.S. truck a moment later. It parked, and then the driver began unloading sheaves of folded cardboard boxes. The circle of Fay ladies were now Hispanic women, conversing in Spanish, while the U.P.S. driver unloaded the bales of bundled cardboard boxes. Gerry signed for the delivery. The truck left followed by the frantic barks of the large white dog. The disguises of all were dropped by the Fay in the shop; a line of them began moving the stacks of bundled cardboard to the center of the floor then disappearing and returning shortly to repeat their actions.

"What are we doing here?" Harry asked in puzzlement at all the activity. "And where do they go to in the middle of the floor?"

"Expansion Harry, expansion." Gerry answered cryptically.

Sandra walked in the shop, unconcerned by the bustle. She had coffee in her hand and the dog bouncing at her heel, prideful at ridding his domain of the large brown vehicle. Walking to the bench, she sat the coffee down and waited for Harry, who moved toward the cup of steaming liquid in need and grateful acknowledgement.

"My Lady," he said with the first sip of coffee of the morning passing his lips next. A contented Ahh escaped them afterwards.

"My Lord!" Sandra replied, and began brushing his tangled mass of unruly hair, talking to Gerry in quiet words while Harry drank with an unfocused gaze and patted Max's head in a distracted manner. She tied his hair with a scrap of discarded lace from the bench and a sealing kiss. She took his hand, leading him away, the cup at his lips. Gerry walked to the center of the floor, calling.

"Cocktails at my place before supper Harry." then vanished from view.

"Is someone going to explain that to me?" Harry remarked peevishly, pointing his mug at Gerry's disappearance. Oldman laughed, while Sandra continued to draw him toward the house.

"Later, Maddie has lunch ready. I've come to retrieve you, feed you, and then wash you. You stink." He dipped his nose to an armpit, sniffed, and grimaced.

--Whew, you do need washing; if I had a stomach I'd puke. Oldman remarked.

--If you had a nose you would anyway. Harry retorted, waving away the scent of his unwashed body. If you two had let me swim instead of rushing me home, I would smell a lot better. Sandra said nothing more, continuing to lead Harry away as he tried to drink from the sloshing remains of his cup.

***

Leonard walked to the door of the shop, along with his companions, watching the Princess lead away the strange man and his pet intellect.

--A strange union. One of the group thought.

--What is Oldman? Another questioned.

--It is said among those in the halls that he came out of Har ri na's dreams. A sense of reverent awe and trepidation accompanied the thought.

--Perhaps he is a living dream, interjected the thoughts of the first, as he blurted out the excited thought. Leonard shook his head, holding his mind before him to fend off the flooding interrogatives and surmising postulations of the group. The silent third of the fabrication team brought his presence to the center of the group's conversation. Their thoughts turned to him and he intoned softly, as in a whisper.

--Perhaps we should go to work; look, Ger ri na comes. And perhaps, he said, turning attention to the Fay whose thoughts escaped in excited premature comment. ...We should hold our thoughts close to us. This Oldman gleans our minds as grains from the stalk. The Fay banked his thoughts with a mental cover of ash while a back log of interest kept the coals hot with speculation.

Gerry came up and stood with arms crossed in waiting; he examined the minds of the team one by one and remained on the silent third for a moment, giving a hidden mental wink.

--You can build it? He questioned, reading their faces as well as their minds.

--Yes Ger ri na, Leonard answered. ...The craft will be as silent and unseen as a hunting owl gliding over the windless, darkened fields; but, like the owl, it should cling to its perch in the strong wind, and beware the shadow of the full moon and the light of the sun, as it searches for its prey. It will also be as Har ri na said, a kite that performs best with a strong wind, but at its mercy as well as its gifting. With your permission, we will have a working model ready for our Lord at the gathering tonight; it may look unseemly and be clumsy, but it will work. Gerry's squinted eyes accompanied his rapid thoughts and he spoke.

"Build it." He turned back to the details and preparations to be accomplished before the blessed quiet of his transit home to prepare for tonight's ceremonies.

***

Sandra smiled as Harry leaned back from the decimated platters and bowls of vegetables on the table in stuffed contentment. He would sleep well after his shower, needful sleep for the long evening that was before them. She helped Maddie clear the table wash the dishes and put away the few remains that they had left from the repast. Maddie sat by the window with an open book on her lap, reading lightly, as Sandra led Harry away to their bedroom and shut the door. The shining lavender orb of a lesser Fay waited within.

"Harry, this is Mira." she said, introducing them. The pale purple ball approached them.

--Har ri na, Oldman, I greet you. The thought and feeling of obeisance was sent to them; they replied in turn. The instantaneous dual thought caused Mira's orb to quiver in surprised light varying reaction. Sandra's smiling dimpled face regarded Harry closely.

"Mira will watch here until we return and call if we are needed. Come mates, she said, in playful words. ...Let's away to our fairy bedroom. Her thoughts held them closely, as her mind formed an image of her bedroom in the middle world, and then moved to it, towing their minds and body with her.

Sandra hurried him through the dimly lit room, obviously their 'fairy bedroom', aided by Harry's shock at the passing from his word to hers, and his intense feelings of dislocation that accompanied their movement to this plane of reality. She led him further still to the back of the room, dragging him along as he tried to assimilate all that he saw.

He felt shameful, as his booted feet scuffed over the carpet of close growing tender grass; the soft coverings of the walls, the scattered lightly glowing orbs nestled within them, and the sound of birds and insects overlaid the gentle music of a breeze. The large raised platform, that must be a bed, receded from his sight as they descended one short, turning step, bringing them into the area that was their bath.

--I could live here, Oldman's thought. Harry's eyes examined the natural setting; Oldman spoke of its harmony. Sandra's musical laughter played in their minds as she drew them further into the room.

Half rounded walls of stone were curtained by a softly falling sheet of water, descending from somewhere above them. Blue sky, bordered by trees, formed the ceiling of the bath high above. Vegetation, thick about the rim, descended hanging in vine twisted glory among the plants growing there; they scattered down its walls in multicolored, water dropped, patches.

A large pool of glowing green water trickled, overflowing liquid slowly down two hewn stone steps running the length of the unbroken rock floor. The water from the falls drained invisibly into the earth. The bright smile that was Sandra's thought came near with her body