Halloworpheus

Phoarateo -- for it was indeed he -- could hear none of what Rylesie said, nor did he have any way of sensing her presence behind him. He could not even be certain that the chamber he had entered was the correct one, for he had seen only her bound ankles and feet from his vantage point in the doorway. He had, in any event, upheld his end of the deal to the letter, and his father's parting words at dawn -- "Ratch is evil, but he is a man of his word" -- played over and over again in his head as he followed his intuition towards the gates of freedom.

The bemused looks on the faces of the demons and minions who passed him in the hallways and on the myriad stairwells at least gave him reason to believe that there was a naked woman following him. But there simply wasn't any way of knowing that woman was Rylesie. He tried time and again to tamp down his doubts, but his resolve was no match for a lifetime of being taught to fear Ratch, man of his word or not. He tried to speak, "Rylesie, show me somehow that it's really you!" But his efforts at screaming it came out as a hoarse whisper in a voice that did not resemble his own at all. Then even if he did hear his beloved's voice behind him, wouldn't that be a sign that it was not really her?!

The point was moot, for although Rylesie did scream with joy all the way through their journey, Phoarateo heard not a word. He was, at least, able to find his way to the final stairwell with a dazzling patch of sunshine just beyond, and he felt tears of relief coming to his eyes as he ascended the steps. Only a few more yards and they'd be home free...if in fact Rylesie was behind him.

And if she wasn't? On that note the growing patch of sunshine seemed to lose its joy and hope. He had been warned of the most dire of consequences should he turn around before crossing the threshold...but then, there was only one hung-over looking guard in the doorway. Phoarateo had little doubt he could take him. Even if not, what had life left to offer him if he failed to retrieve Rylesie? And after all, he was Phoarateo, who could melt a heart of stone with his horn; surely he could make it across those final two yards or so!

At the top of the stairs, only steps away from freedom and with only the guard's baleful gaze as a witness, Phoarateo could resist no more. Gripping the banister, he took a deep breath of the stale air that was now sprinkled with the sweet essence of the mountain, and he spun around on his heel.

"Noooooooooo!" The scream was Rylesie's, and the body was hers as well, although he noted her triangular badge of womanhood was gone, and he had just enough time to register that before the rest of her was gone as well. She vanished into the filthy mist, her scream still echoing and now blended with his own furious roar of anguish. Instinctively, he reached for his sword as he spun back around to face the guard, only to recall he'd been ordered to check it at the gate when he'd entered. He lunged for the guard with his bare hands, but the guard anticipated his onslaught and had no trouble grabbing him by his tunic and throwing him out into the daylight, alone.

"Please!" he screeched, scrambling to his feet and lunging at the guard again. "One more chance! Have a heart!"

"Those weren't the terms of the deal and you know it, Phoarateo," the guard intoned. "Now you'd best hope to find your wife in the next lifetime. You won't be seeing her again in this one."

"This shall never stand!" Phoarateo screamed. "Never!" He lunged again and again at the guard, but each time he found himself tossed back to the ground as if bouncing off a brick wall. "I'll never give up! Never, do you hear me?! NEVER!"

He knew not how many efforts he'd made before he could no longer pick himself up off the ground. Even then, he continued his screams. "Never, I tell you!"

"NEVER!"

"Never!"

"Never! Never! Never! Never!" He felt the guard's hand on his arm, but he didn't stop thrashing about on the ground "Never!"

"Phoarateo! Wake up!"

And suddenly he was able to sit up after all. The cold light of day vanished in a flash of the warm pale dregs of the fire in their bedchamber, and all at once he realised it hadn't been the guard's hand on his arm, but rather Rylesie's. She was alive and well, and still gripping on his shoulder. "It was only a nightmare, my love!" she said. As he caught his breath, she took him in the most heavenly embrace he had ever known. "It's all right! You're well, and you're safe here!"

"As are you," he gasped, tears of joy welling in his eyes as he felt her arms tight around him and he most eagerly reciprocated. "Oh, thank heavens, you're here!" He was so overwhelmed with relief that he did not realize at first that Rylesie was naked; when he did grow aware, he quickly grew as titillated as he was relieved. To think he'd nearly spurned her that very day!

"Of course I am," Rylesie said. "I was here before you! The party went beautifully, but of course we had to send the children home to bed before you and the men were done with your...ritual."

"The party went beautifully?" he repeated. "Then you weren't bullied out of the hall and you didn't run off to the poison glen?"

"What?! No! Listen, your mother was wonderful, Phoarateo. Besides, that bitch Scarlie and a few others will always try to stir up trouble, but I know how to handle them! And the children were delightful, and some of them really were frightened. I wouldn't dare let silly jealousy spoil my efforts to comfort them. Especially not on my very first time alongside your mother at that party!"

"Then you were able to give the children their treats without incident." Phoarateo drew back from her embrace and lay back on his pillow, gazing gratefully up at the ceiling.

With a sly grin, Rylesie drew back slightly and pulled the sheets down a bit. "I don't know if you noticed when you came to bed, but I offered you a treat of your own if you care to unwrap it!"

"Oh, I noticed just now as you held me." Phoarateo pulled the sheets back further. He was thrilled to see Rylesie's bush was intact. "Thank heavens," he whispered, reaching down to run his fingers appreciatively through the hair.

"Heavens indeed, Phoarateo, just what were you dreaming?!" Rylesie said, letting a giggle slip at his loving but clumsy caresses on her vulva.

"You were right," he said. "About everything."

"That's what you dreamed?" Rylesie was confused, though she was not displeased.

"No, but that's what I learned," he said, still teasing her triangle gently. "You were right about everything. About expressing our love and celebrating the time we've got together in this life rather than living in fear of Ratch or Madame Prue or anyone. I don't know if those superstitions mean anything or not, but perpetuating this deathly fear -- it doesn't serve any good purpose. And we certainly shouldn't let it stand in the way of our happiness together!"

"My word, Phoarateo!" Rylesie beamed at him and reached down to return the favour on his rigid cock. "All this because we survived All Saints' Eve?"

"Yes, absolutely," he said. "I worried myself right into hell and back over nothing while you were comforting the children, and all on the word of a woman who knows nothing about us."

"I'm quite relieved to hear that," Rylesie said. "But tell me, everyone says Madame Prue has always been right..."

"It has always been an easy job to predict which marriage has a good chance of success," Phoarateo replied, amazed that he had never realised as much before. "All she needs is the eyes and ears of someone at the pub to know which of the men are trustworthy and stable, and which are likely to cause trouble. Or find themselves in it. That is certainly how she knew Mother and Father would last, after all."

"And your aunt's first marriage?" Rylesie could not help but recall the dire warnings of her ladies in waiting.

"Uncle Glenorafio was a fool and a daredevil, always willing to take on a dangerous job of any sort," Phoarateo explained. "Anyone could have predicted what Madame Prue did. And they'd be correct."

"So her dire warnings about us..." Rylesie mused.

"A reflection that so many others think we are doomed," Phoarateo suggested. "And a self-fulfilling prophecy if we let it be. But we shan't my love!"

"I trust I don't want to know just what became of you in that dream," Rylesie said with a relieved grin, and with his fingers still teasing her down below, she began returning the favour.

Phoarateo thought briefly of explaining that it was what happened to her in the dream that was so horrifying -- but she did not need to know. "I promise, Rylesie, never again! From now on I concentrate on our hope for the future, and spreading that for the whole mountain if we can."

"Concentrate on that, and on my breasts, if you please," Rylesie quipped, placing his free hand on them.

"That too!" He leaned over and kissed her, and caressed both her breasts in turn with a tenderness he had rarely observed before. Thrilling to every inch of the sensation of her body beneath him, healthy and warm and alive, he gave her clitoris a final playful flick and drew his hand up to her face, cupping it as he kissed her passionately and rocked his hips a bit.

"Oh, my love!" Rylesie returned the favour, spreading her legs to open herself to him. As his rocking continued, she reached down and guided him inside. No less of a thrill than the day before, now his hardness within her felt more intimate still. As he slid all the way in and held himself there for a moment, Rylesie opened her eyes wide to see him gazing down at her more intensely than she could ever recall before. "Oh, Phoar!"

"I love you, Rylesie."

"I love you too!" Gently she thrust up her hips and raised her head to kiss him. And they soon rang in All Saints' Day with their mingled joyful moans and screeches as the sun arose over their side of the mountain.