Kiss the Darkness Ch. 06

Christian kissed him again then raised up, pushing Alexander's legs further up to his chest, and began moving in and out of him in long, slow, pulsating, thrusts. Alexander moaned loudly, and Christian began moving faster, driving his hips forward, feeling the muscles in his back and legs tense. He leaned forward once more and Alexander wrapped his legs tightly about Christian's waist, molding their bodies together. Christian continued to move his hips and Alexander matched his rhythm perfectly.

They radiated each others heat as they moved in unison, rocking their bodies together to the sweet sounds of their love making. Alexander wrapped his arms around Christian's neck again and drew him closer and they kissed. Their lips fused and held together, their tongues locked in a sultry dance. Christian broke the kiss as he moved to Alexander's neck, kissing him and sucking at his flesh. Alexander gripped the back of Christian's neck while his other hand slid down the tight, firm, muscles of his back. Their bodies broke out in a thin covering of perspiration making them move and slide together easily. Alexander dug his heels into Christian's ass cheeks as Christian plunged in deeper. They moved faster and harder.

Alexander groaned with delight as their bodies collided together. Christian's breathing came in rapid, shallow, breaths. Alexander's body closed tightly around him and Christian slowed his pace, trying to prolong the pleasure until his orgasm came in a hot, shattering, climax that transcended all physical pleasure. He groaned deep and low in a quavering voice of primitive maleness. Alexander closed his eyes and leaned back against the bed as all reason tumbled into great oblivion. His legs fell open but he held tight onto Christian as they both embraced each other, panting heavily.

Christian felt the hot, sticky, juices of Alexanders own release against his belly and dripping down into the hair above his groin. Both were slick with each others sweat and fluids. Christian kissed Alexander again then collapsed on the bed beside him. Alexander rolled onto his side, laying his head against Christian's chest. Christian pulled the blanket up over them then slid his arm beneath Alexander and held him. He looked to him and smiled. "How are you feeling?" He asked with concern.

"Amazing." Alexander replied.

"But, are you in any pain?"

"Umm." Alexander closed his eyes and yawned some. "Not too much. There was some but the pleasure far outweighed any pain."

"I'm glad." Christian said as he kissed Alexanders forehead. "For the record, I don't think I've ever felt anything as incredible as making love to you."

"I feel the same way." Alexander said groggily. "I think it was probably the greatest moment of my life."

Christian hugged him tight and smiled. "You're tired. I'll let you sleep now."

"It feels nice." Alexander said. "Being in your arms."

"It does." Christian agreed. "Just holding you like this is wonderful." He looked down and saw that Alexander had already drifted off.

Christian smiled. He liked watching Alexander sleep. He liked holding him. It was the most amazing feeling in the world. He wasn't really sure though how much sleep he would get that night. He had this overwhelming need to just watch over Alexander and protect him. Part of him feared that he would wake in the morning and realize that the entire night had been a dream. Another part of him feared what would happen when he returned to the palace and introduced Alexander as his husband. That, perhaps, was what frightened him the most. Draveil or not, Alexander was his husband now. His father just had to accept that. If not, well, he'd cross that bridge (or burn it) when he came to it.

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Girart looked up when Balin entered the guardhouse. "The night watch has returned, sir." He reported.

"And?" Girart raised an eyebrow.

Balin shook his head. "There were reports that the Prince was spotted in Qedor, but none of the information turned up any leads."

Girart frowned. "They couldn't have just vanished into thin air!"

Balin shifted some as he folded his hands behind his back. "Perhaps the witch's power is greater than we first thought. He could be using a glamour to shield himself and the Prince from us."

"Possible." Girart stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I promised the King results. I think it is time I took matters into my own hands. Ready my horse. As soon as they day shift arrives, we ride out."

Balin nodded. "As you order sir." He bowed, then turned and left the guardhouse, leaving Girart alone with his thoughts.

Something didn't sit right with him as he thought about what the guard had said. Why would Christian risk going to Qedor. He should know that the guards would be looking for them. Christian was intelligent and he had been trained as a soldier. Coming so close to Avimur would be reckless and unnecessary when he was already so close to the sea. A wise man would have gone into Unelin, then chartered the first boat he saw. He'd want to put as much distance between them and Avimur as possible, so why go into Qedor? There must have been a reason, and a damn good one, or else Christian wouldn't have risked it.

What was in Qedor that was so important that Christian would risk capture? And where would they have found lodgings for the night that could assure them not only safe passage, but also immunity from the Kings guard?

Girart's eyes went wide. "Of course!" He growled to himself. "Why didn't I think of it before?" He stood and quickly walked outside to the court yard. "Balin!" He called. "My horse! Tibast, the morning assignments are on my desk. See to it that the men know their posts."

Tibast nodded then disappeared into the guard house. Balin arrived moments later with Girart's horse. Girart took the reins then mounted the animal. "You will ride with me." Girart said Balin. "I know where the Prince is. If we hurry, we may be able to catch them."

Balin nodded then ran to get his own horse. The first of the three suns was already high, the second was coming up, burning the darkened sky with it's amber light. Soon the village would be awake and the streets full of men and women rushing about, preparing for the coming day. Once that happened it was possible that Girart could lose the pair in the crowd. He could not allow them to escape so easily but if he was correct, their hosts would already be up and preparing for morning prayer. This was his chance to catch them unaware, and put an end to the witch's treachery once and for all.

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Christian nudged Alexander awake. It was still dark outside, but the gentle sun of the east had kissed the morning sky and awakened the land. Alexander had slept through the night without waking and Christian had watched him most of the night. He dozed off now and then but would wake at the slightest sound. Alexander yawned, turned over, and smiled brightly when he saw his husband looking at him with such a loving and admiring stare. The night before had been miraculous. Christian had been wonderful, and Alexander felt more in love with him now then ever before. He loved waking next to him. He loved the feel of his body pressed against Alexanders and his strong arms surrounding him.

Christian kissed Alexander on the lips and Alexander returned the kiss with as much passion. His heart skipped a beat and he warmed to the heat that passed between them. He could have thrown himself into Christian's arms right then and there and begged for a repeat of their wedding night if not for the sudden, urgent, need to take a piss. Alexander pushed back the covers and stood, reaching for his trousers.

"Where are you going?" Christian asked him.

"To find an outhouse." Alexander blushed. "Too much mead last night."

Christian grinned. "Chamber pot, in the privy." He pointed to the small door at the other end of the room.

Alexander smirked. "I suppose I have to get used to not pissing outside anymore."

"You'll have to get used to a lot of things from now on." Christian laughed. "But yes, not freezing your balls off in the winter is one of the benefits of nobility."

"That's something I will definitely look forward to." Alexander giggled.

"Then again..." Christian winked. "I could always warm them up for you."

Alexander blushed. "Behave yourself." He smirked.

"Never." Christian laughed loudly.

Alexander smiled, waved him off, the went to take care of his business.

Christian would have been happy to stay in bed with his new groom all day, afternoon, and into the night. He wanted to make love to him again and again but that, he knew, would have to wait. There were other matters to attend to. Reluctantly, he slid out of the bed and found his clothes. He laid his, and Alexander's clothing, neatly on the bed next to each other and then he began to dress himself. The monks had brought what belongings they'd brought with them to the monastery and left them in the bed chamber. Alexander's old clothes were among those items. Christian almost suggested that he throw them out, or donate them, as he would no longer need his commoners clothes, but then he remembered what Alexander had told him earlier.

Those clothes had been a gift from Alexander's grandmother. His eighteenth birthday gift. She had hand sewed each article of clothing, painstakingly, so that Alexander would have the proper attire for entering the world as a grown man and no longer a child. Christian knew Alexander well enough by now to know that he would never part with the clothes. Even if he never wore them again, he would keep them as a memento of the love and devotion that his grandmother had for him. It occurred to Christian that the old woman probably wasn't even his blood relative. It was more likely that she was a servant of Alexander's mother. That would account for how she was able to teach him what she had.

She was probably present the night Lady Ismey was spared by the guard and together, the two had probably fled into the night. As her ladies maid and companion the old woman would have been devout in the care of her mistress. It's possible that she could have even been Lady Ismey's wet nurse when she herself was a child. Once Alexander was born the woman's role became that of midwife and nursemaid, as well as companion and possibly a surrogate mother to Alexander's mother. She grew into the role of grandmother, and after Lady Ismey's death, Alexander's grandmother had become his entire world. Now, the only family Alexander had ever known was gone, and he was left alone in a strange and frighting world.

Learning that King Guillame had betrayed his mother and forced her to flee, with everyone she loved in the world thinking she was dead, it was natural that Alexander would feel resentment towards the King. Christian couldn't even fault him if he had sought revenge. All Alexander had been told of his father was that he was a soldier that had fallen during battle. Perhaps his mother had not wanted the burden of the truth to scar her young sons childhood so she choose to keep the truth from him. But his grandmother had tried to tell him what had really happened though she died before the full story could be relayed. Alexander knew the truth now though. It certainly complicated matters. Christian had no idea what Alexander was feeling.

How does one handle knowing that the their father was betrayed and murdered by their King? Not only that, but the father of the man that he loved? Had Alexander given up on his quest for answers, or his need for revenge? Did he honestly want peace with the man that had ruined his life? It seemed to much to ask any man really but Alexander wasn't like other men. There was a goodness within him that Christian couldn't quite understand. Asgall had even said that Alexander had a good heart, and that his father had been a good man. That was far from what Christian had been taught of the Draveil. His father had always made them out as inhuman monsters from the pits of hell. Blood thirsty and cruel.

Their false quest for peace was nothing but a scheme to get them into the King's good graces so they could betray him. That's what Christian had been told by his own father. Now it seemed that that was just one more in a very long string of lies his father had told him. The Draveil were not the evil demons they had been made out to be. Christian knew that for a fact, he was in love with one. As Alexander emerged from the privy he smiled at Christian and Christian knew in that moment that he had not been wrong about Alexander. His smile was kind, loving, and beautiful. Christian went to him then, stood behind him and kissed his neck as he wrapped his arms around him. "I love you." Christian whispered in his ear.

"And I you." Alexander whispered back. He turned, pressed his naked body against Christian and kissed him passionately on the lips. No matter what happened in the hours to come Christian knew one thing for certain. No harm would come to Alexander, he wouldn't allow it. Even if it meant fighting his own father, Christian would defend Alexander with his last dying breath.

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Alexander poured water from a floral pitcher into a large basin. He stood before it, totally naked, and began to wash himself. The water was cool but not uncomfortably so. Christian built up the first that had died out over the night. Alexander was grateful for the heat as it took the chill off the water as it touched his bare skin. He washed his face and hands, then his chest, under his arms, then down the outside and insides of his legs and pubic area. Christian had done a quick wash of his face and privates but nothing as thorough as Alexander. He figured that once they'd returned to the palace he could enjoy a hot bath with soap and scented oils. Alexander was careful though to clean away the evidence of their love making.

Christian took the rag from him and after pushing his long hair to the side, began to gently dab his back side. Alexander winced a bit but didn't otherwise complain.

"You're still in pain." Christian noted.

"It's not so bad." Alexander told him. "Just a bit sore is all."

"Can you ride?"

Alexander nodded. "I'll be fine." He gave Christian a reassuring smile then kissed him. "Stop worrying."

Christian smiled back. "It's my job to worry. I took vows, remember?"

Alexander leaned his head back against Christian's chest while Christian held him close. "We have to leave don't we?" He asked.

Christian smiled. "We can't hide in here forever."

"True." Alexander looked down sadly, taking Christian's hand in his. "Just one more night of peace would have been nice."

"It would." Christian agreed. "But the longer we remain here, the more we risk being discovered. It's best to confront my father now. Waiting just prolongs the inevitable."

Part of Christian was still tempted to just take Alexander and run. Go to a new land, start a new life together, and put the past behind them. It seemed safer but he knew that the old monk was right. They couldn't run forever and Alexander had the right to confront that man that had destroyed his family. He had the right to have his birth right restored, and an obligation to carry on where his father left off. Maybe the only hope they had for a happy future was to bring peace between their two houses, and let the truth finally be known. The lies and mystery that had shrouded the Draveil for so long was about to be brought down and Avimur would soon be thrust into a new era. He just hoped the simple people of the Kingdom were ready.

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Alexander dressed quickly. Christian couldn't get over how remarkable he looked in his new, noble attire. He planned to have an entire new wardrobe created for him when they returned to the Palace. There were so many things he wanted Alexander to experience. He had so many plans for their future. Just thinking about it all brought a huge smile to Christian's face. He had never been as happy in his entire life as he was in that moment. Alexander had truly brought him to life.

Christian took Alexander's hand and led him out of the cottage to the main hall of the monastery. The aroma of eggs, smoked sausage, griddle cakes, and ham engulfed them and assaulted their senses. They took a seat at one of the tables and were greeted by the many monks that were already up and enjoying their breakfast. A fresh loaf of bread was set on the table before them and the monks passed around bowls of the foods, allowing everyone to take a modest amount. While Christian and Alexander filled their plates another monk walked down their row of seats with a pitcher of juice. He offered some to the couple and they gladly accepted.

Alexander inhaled his cup deeply and smiled. "Orange juice." He cooed, "Fresh squeezed."

"The monks here are known for their oranges." He told him. "There's a green house out back. You'd be amazed at the delicacies they have in it."

"I can only imagine." Alexander said as he sipped the juice, savoring the tangy flavor. He'd had orange trees near his home and if he was lucky they would yield a good crop in the summer but they didn't taste anywhere near as delicious as the ones cultivated by the monks.

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Everyone seemed so happy, so full of life. Alexander had never met anyone as kind as accommodating as the monks had been. He was sad to be parting their company. As they gathered their belongings and said their good-byes, Christian promised Alexander that they could and would visit again. Alexander was glad. He felt at home at the monastery, and there were still so many books that he wanted to read and learn from. He thanked the monks for the glorious meal, for their kindness, and for allowing them to partake of their knowledge. Especially brother Asgall. Alexander felt particularly close to him. There was much he realized that he could learn from the man. Not only about his ancestors but about his father as well.

Asgall seemed as though he shared a close relationship with the Demon King. They had been friends, Asgall told Alexander, but more than that, they were like brothers. Ar'gas confided in Asgall his plans to unite the Kingdoms, and he often sought the council of the old monk. When Ar'gas had died, it was the darkest moment of Asgall's life. He missed their long talks, the friendly arguments they got into over the scriptures, and his over all company. Ar'gas was a good friend, Asgall told Alexander, and he was greatly missed. But, discovering the existence of Ar'gas's son and heir gave Asgall hope once again. The Gods had spared him for something very special, Asgall was sure of it. Only time would tell now what the purpose was.

Christian and Alexander were escorted to the main doors of the monastery by Brother Neil and Brother Asgall. A young monk had gone into the village to retrieve the two horses they'd rode in on. Necromancer was still healing and it would not be wise to move him just yet. Christian had given the monk enough gold to cover the fee plus a few extra days of boarding for the horse. He would have a squire go later to retrieve him. As he shook hands with the two monks, Christian handed them a small leather purse. "For your generosity." He told them. "If you ever need more, come see me. The Palace will always support you in the great work that you do."

Brother Neil bowed and thanked him. "This will help when winter comes." The monk told him. "So many starving people come to our doors and we can scarcely feed them all."

Christian nodded. "I'll talk to my father. I'm sure we have food on reserve that we can give. I'll also see about providing some much needed blankets and oil for lamps."