Waiting for the Yisun's Bloom

"We thank you, fruit of paradise. Bounty of the mists, may your sacrifice quicken us." The half-woman sang. Her voice trilled; trembled into a heart-rending chant. She raised the vicious blade high and opened the Yisun's skin with a single flowing motion. The chant rose to a swelling hum. Thick, blood-red drips of sap flowed from the fruit's pierced flesh. She kissed the knife tip. Silence followed.

"It is done." She looked at us with bloodshot eyes. "Drink now, with the Progenitors' blessing."

Blossom, bowing, first accepted the vessel. She shuddered, wide-eyed, and she drank deep. Juice dripped, thick and ruby-red, from her sticky lips. My charge exhaled, moaned even, and handed the bowl over to the Spider warrior.

He grabbed for it with shaking fingers. His mouth stood open, and drool dripped from his earthen tongue. I suppressed a grin. The women had lowered their eyes, pretending to not notice his weaknesses. Mastering himself, he put the rim to his lips. As maddened fire lit up his dull eyes, the harp maiden took the emptied receptacle from his slackened hands. She struck the pliant fruit with her wicked knife and refilled the bowl with potent nectar.

Nightshade accepted the vessel with her usual poise. Thick sap still bled from the opened fruit, and she drank deep. Her crimson tongue touched her widened lips, and she smiled. Knowing, as if she had mastered the strange ritual. As if I would be her acolyte. But I had been instructed, and I did not drink. Instead, I handed it back to my charge.

The tart taste of the weeping fruit nonetheless burnt my lips and crept down along my tongue. I had not tasted even a drop, but I felt it boiling in my blood. I strived for the nest and nearly mastered myself. Beside me, Blossom smiled and drank. Nightshade, her shock unconcealed by the lacquered cloth, snapped her fan open. And opposite her, her guardian's face reddened, and his engorged cock raged against its confines. The harp maiden prepared yet another bowl with practised ease.

"Sorcery! The -- Whore Progenitor's sorcery! You will -- you will yield yourself!" Stinger, roaring, jumped from his seat. "Yield your soil, foreign harlot!" His robes parted and his bulging cock swung free.

The harp maiden climbed to her knees. "With your leave, Lady Hanteach," said the half-woman, "I shall consider Lord Goin'Oku your guest in matters of the ritual." She lowered herself towards him. At Blossom's nod, she closed her lips around his purple tip. Her wanton slurps sent my heart into a frenzy. Sweat dripped from my brow, and fruit-poisoned blood coursed in my veins.

I met Blossom's gaze. A serene smile played around her lips, but something unreadable burned in her eyes. She quirked her brow, and she let the sloppy sounds of sex be her argument. The tainted fruit had poisoned every fibre of my weak, earth-boned body. She gave a nod, and I no longer hid my hardness. Another nod, and I parted my robes. Nightshade sniggered behind her fan.

"Forgive me, Lord Tsum'Ein," the harp maiden said and then paused to again swallow Stinger whole. "The ritual demands that I focus on Lord Goin'Oku's boundless need. I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me, and I do hope that I may prove myself a worthy receptacle for you as well."

Blossom giggled, and I wondered whether she had instructed the half-woman to use such an insult. Nightshade said nothing, but her venomous glare was clear to read. "You are forgiven," I said to the sucking maiden, and then turned to address my charge: "I have but a small need, and with your leave, I shall attend to it."

Blossom gave another nod and kept her eyes trained on my veiny spear. I touched myself, emboldened by the knowledge of four admiring eyes following my languid motions. My charge smiled, lusting openly. Her approval urged me on. Nightshade concealed her appreciation behind painted paper, and behind the curtains of her lids. But she could not look at her weak guardian, and she could not look away from my accursed strength.

I rose, all the while tending to my length with lazy strokes. The harp maiden looked at me, and smiled, even as the Spider Warrior fucked her throat. He sucked in air, roared and hissed; angered, yet unable to control it. She gagged on his length but opened her mouth for a shuddered smirk. A froth of drool and spend pooled to the floor.

He, maddened by understanding, thrust himself down her throat, then pulled back and jerked his already exploding length. His white ropes splattered against her forehead. He drenched her hair, her eyelashes, and her neck. The second spurt of seed stained her breasts and ran in thick strings down her belly to her navel and sex. He groaned and slapped her face with his calming cock. Only then did he relent.

The harp maiden waited, her head held low, for him to step aside. She then touched her temple to the ground. I approached, cock in hand. She did not look up and instead raised her ass, ready to receive me. I paused and looked down. His shame stained the floor around her head and clung to her sweaty hair.

"Blossom, my Lady," I said, though I strained to keep my voice calm.

"Yes, Thorn, my brother?"

"Would it offend you to see me quench my earthen need with the lovely Ally?"

Blossom smirked. "You have my leave, Thorn, my brother. That is if you don't object, Nightshade, my sister."

The Spider laughed openly. "Oh, well done, my friends. Well done indeed. By all means, Thorn, fuck the half-woman, and fuck her good."

I managed an exaggerated bow. "With your leave," I said, and Blossom pointed her fan at the prone harp maiden. My cock ached under my rough touches, and venomous droplets crowned its tip. I winced, then laughed. "Ally, you do not mind?"

She did not look up. "If it pleases you, Lord Tsum'Ein." I walked around her body, knelt down behind her, and pushed the false innocence of her robe aside. She was wet underneath and moaned as I teased her with my tip. "Fuck me, Lord Tsum'Ein. Till my worthless field with your mighty plough. Ohh, fuck me."

We shivered with pleasure, and I mumbled my warcry, the words of our exalted house. She did look good and beautiful, and she did seem true. Blossom smirked, and I again roared the battlecry. The harp maiden screamed and raised her head. I took hold of her hair and of her neck. She writhed under me, and the snakes and dragons on her back slithered alive with each thrust.

Ally turned her head, and trained her strange eyes on me. I met the penetrating gaze and stopped myself from kissing her stained lips. She smirked and licked up more of Stinger's drying earth. I touched a dingy lock away from her eyes, and her body rewarded me.

The tight closeness of her convulsions proved too much for my ragged member. I exploded inside; milked by her constriction, and urged on by hoarse moans. She crawled away, and my eruptions feed the monsters on her back. She turned around and smiled up at me. "Defile me, Lord Tsum'Ein." She grabbed my aching cock and directed the torrent of venomous filth down at her already loamy face.

It hit her lips and filled her mouth. I gave her more. The white ran over and streamed from the corners of her mouth. She licked up some and swallowed more, but the flow of poison earth seemed endless. I added to the painting on her breasts and marked her neck as a site of my shame. She caught the last, thinning spurt with her palms.

"Thank you," she said, "Lord Goin'Oku, Lord Tsum'Ein. I hope you found me a worthy receptacle for your soil. You may cleanse yourself behind the screen. Water has been prepared." She bowed low. "Lady Greamii, Lady Hanteach, I shall remove my used-up form from your sight. May you forgive my abasement, and I do hope the ritual showed you what you sought as well."

We crowded into the cramped space behind the small screen. The harp maiden had walked away, and custom demanded we not linger. Stinger and I did not look at each other as we cleaned our soiled cocks. There was a feeling of emptiness in my gut as if I had failed an important test.

I had known that the ritual could end like this. It was hardly a secret, and I know how soil blooms in my soul. And the Spider warrior who, beside me, awkwardly splashed his slimy cock with cold water had been unable to control himself as well. We were warriors; flesh, muscles, sinew, and even the soil were ever close to our minds. Yet a rising dread gnawed at my bones.

Their whispers shook me to my core. Stinger seemed oblivious, but I had noticed. Blossom and Nightshade were seated too close together, their shadows visible through the thin paper. Their talk ceased as soon as we stepped back into their view. And I remembered the rumours -- more like winking acknowledgement back at Balladeer's Aerie; but a mortal danger among the other Houses.

We parted in all formality, and even I took solace in empty phrases over honest feelings.

"Blossom, my Lady?" I asked, at the threshold of her room.

"Yes, Thorn, my Brother?"

"Nothing. Just be careful, Blossom, my sister."

She answered with a smile, and I tried to sleep. Suspicion and earthen memories conspired to keep me awake. After one bell, I heard the even sounds of Blossom's soft slumber. After tossing for two more, I dunked my head and hands into cold water. My hard tool already ached for renewed touches, and I cursed the holy fruit and the poison that lingered still.

Morning dawned too soon. I had lain half-awake for an eternity and did not rise in time to start my training. Blossom interrupted me, she smiling and I covered in sweat, and dragged me to court. The entertainments were worse than ever, and I could not even enjoy the food.

All day, Nightshade and Stinger kept their distance, but after lunch, Meirdrea'Chinu Thread approached us instead. The courtesan had not been assigned a protector, and her dress and verdant mask were as intoxicating as ever. Blossom immediately imposed herself between the young Spider and me.

"I am envious," Thread said and bowed her head a little. "I must confess, Lady Hanteach, that I have oft heard tales of the half-woman Ally's exceptional gift at invoking the fruit's bounty. And the thought of seeing Thorn -- Lord Tsum'Ein taste its poison..."

Blossom hid her face behind her fan, and -- so covered -- snarled at the Spider.

"You were saying, Lady Hanteach?" Thread smiled brightly and tugged at some fibre in her dress. The dark silk hugged her bust, and the hemline rose high enough for me to sense the nakedness underneath.

"I said, Thread, that Thorn and I are late for another engagement. So kindly step aside." Blossom took my hand and led me away.

Thread gasped, and I could hear some Spider courtiers whisper amongst each other. I raised an eyebrow.

"Don't," Blossom hissed, "I do not know how you can tolerate that woman, much less..." She did not finish the thought.

I said nothing, and we then spent two peaceable hours walking the Keep's endless gardens. Wizened trees showered us with roseate petals, and I filled my lungs with misty calm. I came this close to reaching the nest. Then Blossom dragged us back to court. An abominable play followed, then lunch.

After, we suffered through recitations by five different poets, none of which displayed more than middling skill. Thread kept her distance this time. As did Nightshade and Thorn. And Blossom decided that we would retire early on this day. I was relieved at first, and ready to slumber, but my suspicions soon returned.

I lay awake, or half-asleep, all night and listened to Blossom's relaxed breathing. She mocked me terribly in the morning when she intruded on my training yet again. I said nothing, and suffered, tired, through another tiring day. Then another. And another.

Night fell again, and I tried meditation. I found some kind of light sleep instead. Blossom moved inside her room, and her calm footfalls made a pleasing sound. She then opened her door. My suspicions returned, but I was tired. My dreaming mind conjured charming images, ink-soft impressions of their meeting. The soft weight of my blanket pushed down on me, and summer warmth spread out from my limbs to my head and to my gut. I, turning, realised that the images had swollen my cock. It grew harder under my touch, and I jerked awake.

Blossom was moving outside, her steps fading with each heartbeat. I jumped out of bed and hurried to pull on my pants. A dreadful silence had fallen over the hallway. I ran out of my room and after her. My charge is not a sneak thief, nor an infiltrator, but she is light of foot and perceptive. And I am a warrior, sure of foot but unused to sulking.

As I hastened through the small, dark, corridors, I tried to find a compromise between haste and stealth, but I almost gave myself away. Blossom moved with careful calm, and she stopped as soon as I heard her footfalls again. We both stood motionless, I with my back against a thin paper wall, and she -- she suddenly doubled back.

Her shadow menaced down the hall and she almost reached me, but a pair of bumbling groundlings saved me. They lumbered past, blind to us both. Blossom let them pass, exhaled, and continued her careful journey.

She led me back to that selfsame room, close to the shrine.

Inside, the shadow of Nightshade awaited her. Blossom looked around but missed me again. I stayed hidden, pressed against a near corner. She entered, and their shapes embraced. I crept closer and saw them remove, then toss aside, each other's clothes.

A single, desperate moan escaped from Nightshade's lips before my charge muffled her with hers. I was close enough to hear their kisses and the wet sounds of their need. Another low moan made me jump, but this time Blossom joined in. I grabbed for my soul, but I had not brought the blade. Instead, my cock sprung heavy into my hand. But despite the lewd noises and traitorous shadows, I regained mastery. The ritual, to my astonishment, had helped.

I kept a quiet watch over their coupling. My patrol tore their entangled forms from my view, and I heard no one but the two illicit lovers. But the walls themselves mocked me. Every shadow might have hidden an infiltrator, from behind every papered barrier a dumb sleeper might have stumbled, and more ignorant humans might have stumbled upon their union by sheer chance.

My silent vigil brought me back to the nearest corner, just as their shaded dance neared its end. Their writhing shadows fused together, and their hot moans were much too loud. I recognized Nightshade, I thought, by the measure of her body, taken during our own carnal embrace. My cock twitched, and I muffled a curse.

I recognized Blossom's wailing moans and winced. My charge, shaking, raised her head and fell back into the Spider's embrace. I heard them breathe, and I saw Blossom slide down to finish off Nightshade with her tongue. The infiltrator muffled herself by sucking on my charge's fisted hand; and I bit my own, lest I grip my tool instead.

The shade writhed, and I coloured in her hair and skin from memory, silver and pale. I saw her before me, overtaken by arousal, and I saw her entered, by my cock and Blossom's tongue all at once. The sound of the door opening almost made me tackle her to the ground.

My charge hid her whispered curses behind her fan. "What would you have done if Nightshade came out first?"

I had no answer, and she hurried to pull me away.

"How did you know?" she asked, calmer, at the threshold of our rooms.

"I'm still not sure I do, Blossom, my -- my sister. I saw the two of you together during the ritual, and I knew, but I still do not know. Why take this risk? And if the soil is this thick in your blood, even if a man cannot sate you, why not take the harp maiden to bed instead?"

She, smiling, put away her fan. "Is that what you think?"

We were whispering, all alone in the dark hallway, but I feared spies nonetheless. I shrugged and then shook my head. "I don't think we should be talking about it at all."

"You might be right. And Thorn? Thank you." She turned to leave, but paused, door in hand. Her lips touched my cheek for a chaste kiss, and she was gone. The smell of her body -- and Nightshade's -- lingered through the night. I did not sleep easy, but I slept.

The next morning, I awoke one bell before sunrise -- long before my charge would rise and disturb me. I went through the motions, dressed and armed myself, then sat to await her orders. She did not comment on the previous night, and she did not need words to command me to follow her.

The morning's entertainments again proved anything but.

Lunch, however, saw Blossom called up to the side of Lord and Lady Spider, and me seated between Nightshade and Thread. I barely touched the excellent food. Thread lavished her attentions on me, acting bolder than she ever had before. The other Spider's comments were shaper:

"Thorn, my brother," she asked, after Thread had boldly asked me to meet her after Court, "what do you consider an acceptable pastime?"

"My time is not my own," I said, my eyes downcast, and keeping my voice as even as possible.

"Well said," said Nightshade. "I admire your strength, Thorn, my Brother, but I adore your restraint. You are an excellent companion to your charge and I both." She turned to face Thread. "I consider Lady Hanteach a personal friend," she said with noticeable off-handedness, then nodded at Blossom on the dais, "and I believe she is fond of me as well. We are set to play encirclement after, as a matter of fact, and I feel safe in the knowledge of Thorn attending to me -- to us." The Spider women glared at one another.

I hid my face inside a bowl of soup, and almost choked on the spicy broth. Last night had revealed a third meaning to Nightshade's boasts, and I feared betraying her and my charge with my clumsy thoughts and words.

"What of Stinger?" Thread asked.

"Stinger is a good man, and not foolish enough to mistake compliment for insult."

"Beautiful words," Thread said.

"Thank you," said Nightshade, "and thank you for all the services you do for our house. Thorn, my brother." She gave me a nod, and then nibbled on her filled spring leaves. I drank more soup, and Thread whispered something to Stinger, the Spider warrior seated opposite her.

We did play encirclement after lunch. Nightshade insisted on taking the first game with me, but Stinger did not play. So Blossom read poetry while I placed the first silver stone on the board. The Spider courtier arrayed her ebony pieces in a queer mirror strategy, and I had her beat after only a handful of turns.

The women played after, and I did not expect much. Blossom is my equal in the game of princely strategies, and Nightshade evidently was not. But when I glanced up from my failed attempts to reach the nest, neither had implemented any recognizable gambit. The stones instead formed a series of complex patterns; flowers, blades, and beasts. I watched with growing fascination as they played three more games.

After, Blossom commanded us back to court. The so-called entertainments continued, but I kept thinking about the pictures on the board. I then insulted a minor functionary at dinner -- or so Blossom later told me. "You gulped down the food as if you were starving," she complained back at the threshold to her room, "and I bet you do not even remember the taste."

"The game," I said.

My charge started to laugh. "It is a game, Thorn, my brother." She invited me inside and began to assemble the utensils she needed for her evening infusion. "And diplomats make their moves much like the generals do. Though the opponents tend to differ. My sisters at the Aerie might even argue that we have no need for them." She paused. "But well spotted."

I raised an eyebrow and cleared my throat.