[personal profile] gildaurel posting in [community profile] last_herald_mage
And here is the undead porn...



“Here we are, indeed.” Vanyel sighed at his touch. “Not my preferred location for such a reunion, of course.”

“Too exposed or too uncomfortable?”

“You remember too well. Both, unmentionably so,” and Vanyel took his hand, leading him into the brush, away from the path, pausing only to gesture toward the horse and pack.

“Are you addling my mount’s brains? Because she was no Companion to start, ashke.”

That earned him a real chuckle, and an exasperated look. “An illusion, Stef, along with a call to ‘Fandes.”

“She’s here?”

“We stay together, forever. Bonded spirits never part in the afterlife…” His eyes grew distant for a moment, and Stefen let the implications of those words settle, his mind working quicker than his body, grasping and worrying the hidden meaning even as his bare legs tripped over a scratch of brush.

“All bonded spirits?” His voice wavered. The trees were thinning and giving way to lush grass; Vanyel pulled him out of the last grasps of branches into a meadow so clear and bright as to belie the forest’s name. A brook bubbled quietly through the opposite side, and two or three thrushes fled their sudden, far too human intrusion, in a flash of red wings.

Collapsing onto the cushion of grass, Vanyel drew Stefen down beside him and exhaled a long breath. “All bonded spirits, yes—“

“—and I share you in the afterlife?” He stiffened and sat up. “After all this? The wait, the loneliness, the—gods, the years and years—and he, who never waited, he, who gave you up—“ Things he’d never dared say in life, and Vanyel was looking at him with more respect than surprise.

“You have grown.” The hint of sadness on Vanyel’s face almost undid him. “Ah, Stef, and what would you have me do? Lie, and say I haven’t seen him? But the Havens are not the Forest, and the Forest is more real than any imagined paradise. It’s a land of spirits, of minds building what they will, and touching in something less than touch. There are things I would tell you…” He shook his head, and took Stefen’s hand in his own. Stefen looked at their joined hands, still marveling at the warmth.

“Tell me.”

“I can’t.” His brow furrowed. “I swear, Stef, if I could—but I am no longer of this world, and Death’s secrets are not mine to share, for they are not meant to be lived. This moment, this crossing of worlds, is an unexpected gift.” He moved closer to Stefen again, hands still joined, and he fit so perfectly into every open space that Stefen gasped in remembered bliss.

Their cocks were flush against each other, real and satisfyingly hard; when Vanyel moved against him, Stefen moaned. By the Gods, I can’t even—he is so much more than anyone else could ever be—

Vanyel’s smile was sweeter and younger than he remembered as he bent to pull Stefen into a warm kiss. Stefen deepened it, trying to grasp every bit of him he possibly could, drawing his hands up Vanyel’s sharply muscled back. Finally breaking to draw breath, Vanyel’s chest heaved against his, and he traced a finger over the fine wrinkles around Stefen’s eyes.

“Havens, I’ve missed you, Stef,” he murmured before dropping to his knees with as much incomparable grace as ever. The feeling of Vanyel’s mouth on him was so utterly familiar, and Stefen would have wept if it weren’t for the overwhelming bursts of pleasure accompanying each sweep of his tongue. I can’t last—

He cupped Vanyel’s cheek in his hand, drew his mouth away, Vanyel flashing him another knowing smile as he lay upon the grass in simple surrender. At Stefen’s questioning look, he shook his head—“I have more mastery over my body,” he said cryptically, and Stefen believed him, entering slowly, so slowly that too-well-remembered warmth.

This time he did feel the tears threatening to brim, and drew a deep breath as he felt himself fill Vanyel completely. Vanyel’s eyes mirrored his pain, but there was something wiser, more knowing, and much, much gladder in them, something that made him swallow his own pain, and thrust once, then again, again, again, letting the ecstasy burn through the sorrow.

They finished as a pile of tangled limbs and hearts, Vanyel’s left leg wrapped comfortably about his and his head pillowed upon Stefen’s shoulder.

“I must have pleased one of the Gods recently, “ Vanyel murmured finally, holding up his still-solid hand and allowing Stefen to grasp It with equal wonder.

“You’ve pleased one of the mortals as well.” Stefen ducked Vanyel’s playful swipe and added, “Oh Great Lord of the Forest.”

Vanyel grimaced. “Do stop, that’s what the lost younglings call me. Or milord Herald-Mage Demonsbane Victor of the Pass, or some sort. It’s worse than it ever was in life.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Stefen stroked Vanyel’s hair, his hand trailing to the soft moss below. “A bit of that has rubbed off on me.”

“I always thought you deserved fame more than I did.” Vanyel closed his eyes. “I simply wish I could have been there to see it.”

“The fates had other plans…” and Stefen’s fingers passed through the hair without feeling silk, and he drew back sharply. Vanyel was holding that same hand up again, a look of infinite sadness upon his face as the sun launched glinting rays through it to the earth below.

“It was more than I hoped for, Stef—Stef, you are winning your place, you must know that---“ The urgency a brutal shift from their languid caresses of a moment ago, Vanyel still went on—“and by the Gods, I love you, ashke, more than anyone or anything, living or dead; you will have your place with me—“ The sun was breaking him into pieces now, ruthless, careless strips of light—“don’t lose faith, please, don’t ever lose faith—“

And he was gone.

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