Prince Charming

Note: Bwah! Ok. So...I'm a few heh...make that quite a few...days late on this one. I won't bore you all with excuses this time, I just hope you enjoy the chapter. I'll try and not let myself get distracted agian and I WILL see this through! (Not too many chapters left to go, either...) Enjoy!

Chapter Sixteen

The silence dragged on between the two men for what felt like an eternity, a chill wind blowing through unnoticed and only Lancelot’s soft whicker interrupting the stillness. Finally, Davinoff spoke up, his tone gruff to hide everything flickering just beneath the surface of his words. “Why did you follow me?”

For a moment, Teige couldn’t find the words to speak, his throat tightening with a hot pain as uncertainty churned wildly in his gut. What could he possibly say? I followed you because I love you? Because I can’t stand the world without you? Because I don’t care whether it means climbing endless mountains without purpose, getting eaten by giant acid-spitting spiders or having a dagger pressed to my throat every time I ask the wrong question… When I’m with you I know I’m safe and there’s no where else in the world I’d rather be than by your side, even if you’ll never let me touch you again.

Teige swallowed his words, his face flushing as he realized the truth in every one of those thoughts, but when he spoke, he said nothing of the sort. “You didn’t expect me to leave you all alone in this world to fend for yourself, did you? Do you know how guilty I’d feel if you got hurt and I wasn’t around to protect you?”

Even from his distance, Teige could have sworn he saw the other look mildly amused in spite of himself, Drake’s eyebrow quirking up as he folded his arms silently. “To protect me,” the larger man repeated, as if he could hardly believe the words even as his lips tried desperately to twitch up into a smirk. Without a moment’s hesitation, Teige nodded in affirmation, blue gaze challenging the other to point out otherwise. “Well…it certainly took you long enough to get here…”

Instantly, Teige’s haughty calm dissipated, cheeks darkening heavily as his eyes narrowed, hands flying to his hips in disbelief. “Me!? It took me long enough?? You left me…at the top of a giant mountain…with a stupid, fat brown pony…and expected me to keep up with you? Especially, after you shot me down…made it very clear you never wanted to see me again…”

“I never said that.” Drake objected, his voice almost neutral as he ignored his previous preparations to leave camp and made his way in the other’s direction.

“O-oh, no…and I quote… ‘I can’t stand one more damn minute of seeing you…’ We can’t do this, I can’t take this, I-“ Fingers pressed to his lips, silencing him and lifting his chin at the same time.

“I changed my mind.” Davinoff stated quietly, his words barely above a whisper before he dipped down, catching pliant lips in his with the care of a musician, sounding the first wavering note before a fugue. To his elation, Teige responded, his flushed and exhausted body rising almost instantly into the kiss and slender arms winding their way around Drake’s neck. Simultaneously, Drake slipped a hand Teige’s waist, urging him closer, the other hand raising to cup his cheek, and Davinoff frowned slightly in concern as his touch suddenly met with a dampness on the smooth flesh. “Teige…” They parted for a moment, blue eyes painfully foggy with tears even as the smaller man blinked rapidly and tried to turn away in an effort to disperse them. Again, Drake caught his chin, brushing back the tears and forcing their eyes to meet as he spoke. “That horrible, huh?”

Hastily shaking his head, Teige glanced away again, even as his cheeks heated a flush pink with embarrassment. “No, no, it’s not…I…” He lifted his gaze to steady russet brown, sincere with concern even as his own eyes wavered with debate. “I am sorry…I didn’t mean what I said before you left, I just thought…I thought that maybe… if you thought it didn’t mean anything then…you wouldn’t leave and--“

“Please…don’t say that…” Drake whispered coarsely, almost unable believe he had spoken at all. “It was my fault and I’m sorry, I just…” Suddenly, words abandoned him, his throat dry as the explanation trailed off, and he shut his eyes helplessly, silently cursing his incompetence. What had he ever done to deserve this? Never once had he asked the gods for anything in his life, yet they threw heartache and confusion at him like spare coins: lords and ladies tossing worthless coppers on the streets to watch the penniless vagabond scamper on hands and knees for foul entertainment. Finally, swallowing his pride with the ease of consuming a hornets’ nest, Drake opened his eyes, but seeing those beautiful ocean eyes staring back into his, shimmering with the lingering remnants of tears, he couldn’t bring himself to say anything of relevance. “Are you hungry?”

Teige gave a choked laugh, covering his lips with delicate fingers even as his so recently tear-filled eyes danced with a new shy merriment; the look itself caught Davinoff completely by surprise. When the smaller man nodded, Drake’s heart lifted for no reason whatsoever. “Yeah…that might be nice…”

Without another word, they moved over to the fire. While Davinoff got a meal together, Teige unpacked and unsaddled Lancelot, arranging most of the supplies near the pile Drake had already created, and separating out his bedroll to stow away safely under the cover of the cave overhang. By the time they made it back to the fire, food in hand, the uncertain silence had yet to lift, and as the meal went on, though each had a thousand things on their minds, they kept silent. Somehow, the unspoken rule said that if neither of them said anything, everything could be normal again. But it wasn’t. Eventually, near the end of their meal, Teige couldn’t stand it.

“This is ridiculous,” he suddenly blurted out with a scowl to the fire, watching as cerise flames leapt across cackling brown logs, the tiny orange demons they sent up seeming to laugh at him as they danced in hellish merriment. “Say something.”

Davinoff glanced his way, brow furrowed in indecision and hands clasped between his knees as he surveyed his companion in relative silence. After an achingly long period of time, he gave into the demand. “What do you want me to say?”

Muttering beneath his breath, Teige dropped his face to his hands, redirecting his scowl from the fire, to the cave floor. “Anything, just…anything but this damn silence, I can’t stand it…”

Again, Drake took his time to reply, gaze fixated on the dancing flames, the color reflecting red in his vision before he spoke. “You…” His words faltered and he shut his eyes, an unreadable expression marring his features for one instant, then disappearing just as quickly when he lifted his gaze to his companion once more. “You…look absolutely beautiful tonight.”

For a moment, Drake thought Teige might choke, the remnants of food he had held in his right hand falling to his side as he brought his left up in a fist to cover his mouth, coughing erratically even as a heavy blush stained his cheeks. When Drake made to stand though in an effort to aid him, the smaller man shook his head rapidly, waving him off until he had regained at least some semblance of dignity and cursing himself beneath his breath for acting such a fool. By the time he could speak again, Teige couldn’t quite manage to meet his companion’s gaze, and though he opened his mouth, nothing came out, and Drake spoke before he did.

“Was I not supposed to say that?”

If possible, Teige’s cheeks darkened further, but thankfully for him, the direction of his gaze (the cavern floor) and the darkness around successfully hid most of the effects from view. “N-no, no…not at all, I just…well, it wasn’t exactly…” Swallowing slightly under the pretense of clearing his throat, Teige glanced up to meet Drake’s gaze. “It was rather…unexpected…that’s all.” There, he paused, neither saying anything, and Teige took a moment to worry his lower lip, anxiety on the tip of his tongue before he finally managed to question. “Did you really mean-? Well…that is…do you think-?“ He frowned, totally uncertain as of how to get out what he wanted to say. Drake looked no more ready to answer than Teige did to inquire.

When Teige had first appeared at the top of the slope, Drake’s heart had leapt with new hope, and he’d reacted on instinct, pulling the man into a kiss as if somehow, that could wash away all the barriers their own conflicting words and emotions had built between them. Now, though the man sat less than five feet from him, it might as well have been five miles or more. Silently brooding over his insecurities, false hopes and teasing memories, Davinoff heaved a dissatisfied sigh as he stood, resisting the urge to scowl at his own foolishness and reducing the look to a mild frown before he spoke, saying nothing that he wanted to and everything that didn’t matter.

“It’s getting dark and the flames could attract more things than we want coming up our doorstep. I should sleep, but you can stay out longer if you like. Just stifle the fire when you’re done…” Teige opened his mouth, and for a moment Drake thought he might object, protest warring in his expression before he conceded, shoulders dropping ever so slightly as he gave a faint nod and a muttered reply.

“Yeah…alright.”

At the almost deflated tone, Drake nearly paused, wondering for a moment if maybe, just maybe, a little talking wouldn’t go quite so badly as he feared. But then, Teige turned back to the fire, his gaze distant and his chin in his palms, and Davinoff lost his nerve, though he told himself it was just as well anyway. He was a mercenary: a fighter, traveler, and loner. Talking was not his strong point, and dealing with complex emotions didn’t fare too well with him either.

In battle, the rules were simple: kill and live to fight another day. As he had quickly begun to discover the moment he’d woken up with a living, breathing figure laying perfectly at peace in his arms, whatever he had gotten himself into when he’d first allowed the tower-maiden to keep his company had a completely different set of rules. And he didn’t know a one of them.

Frustrated even with his own assessment, Drake’s frown never faltered as he prepared his bedroll, taking a stack of furs from beside other supplies and splaying them in jumbled, dead-animal fashion before collapsing on the stack with an adamantly persistent scowl. If the man truly caused him so much misery, why couldn’t he simply dump him as he’d threatened originally? The man had a horse now, knew how to ride, camp, and even hunt to some extent, though he’d never got much past occasionally hitting the tree trunk during his dagger lessons. Then his mind flickered back to that very morning, his own words hitting him like an unwanted dosage of cold water on an already frigid day.

What do you want me to say? That I’m fucking falling in love with you?

A sudden shiver traveled his spine and his eyes snapped up as he heard the other dousing the fire. Instantly, the red light flickered out, but it only seemed to illuminate the smaller figure, standing on the rock ledge, ignorant of Drake’s gaze as the moon bathed his body in a shimmering silver glow. Like lighting a match, the first spark of heat coiled in the base of his gut, and almost simultaneously, he ripped his gaze away, cursing himself as he angrily yanked off his boots and shed his shirt, too concentrated on getting his mind off the silent individual now approaching to bother with anything else.

Completely impossible, certainly improbable, and totally irrational. Love was a word that implied tenderness, understanding and carefully built trust that extended throughout a lifetime. For a moment, his mind provided an image of dimming firelight, and smooth, gentle hands that touched and explored but never rushed, as if to ask, if that wasn’t tenderness and trust, what was? But he shoved the thought away, resisting the urge to turn and catch one last glimpse of the other before sleep as he heard the man setting out sleeping arrangements.

How could he possibly fall in love with someone so… Drake’s rational consciousness, the one currently fighting a desperate and loosing battle, provided several titles to fill in the blank: stubborn, talkative, confusing. But when he gave in and rolled to his back, head turning to land on Teige, just then lowing himself to the bedding, Davinoff came up with different answers altogether: delicate, beautiful, genuine. When blue eyes lifted from the task of removing boots, their gazes locked, and in that instant, the word “perfect” came to mind before Drake immediately jerked away, mentally cursing himself for his foolishness.

From his position across the room, Teige blinked in startled silence as Drake rapidly avoided his gaze, and frowned slightly before he returned to the task of removing his boots, throat itching for conversation despite the late hour. “Aren’t all those furs hard on Stallion?” he finally questioned, working on keeping his tone as disinterested as possible, though just the fact that he had picked that moment to strike up a conversation likely already said too much about his mood. When Drake didn’t reply, Teige continued. “They look pretty bulky to me…” After a time, his companion eventually shrugged.

“Not that many of them…and Stallion’s a strong horse. They’re worth it when it comes to winters…situations like this.”

Teige grumbled, rolling, stomach down, onto his elbows as he kicked his supply belts and boots behind him. “Didn’t see you splitting half of the furs in my direction…” He muttered lowly, his mood suddenly startlingly foul, though he told himself it had nothing to do with Davinoff. After all, the man hadn’t done anything. Then again, perhaps Drake had everything to do with his mood…for that very reason. Apparently, the other was either ignorant of disposition, or choosing to ignore it, his tone perfectly calm. Almost frustratingly so.

“Your horse didn’t look up to the challenge.”

Scowling without any real malice, Teige kept silent after that, eyes flickering about the room as he shifted, rolled, turned on both sides, then onto his back before eventually curling up and muttering glumly with a shiver. “I hate winter…” After another moment of silence, he voiced his complaints more loudly with a drawn out whine. “Drake…”

After a pause, Drake’s response came with surprisingly little inflection, not even annoyance showing up in the tone. “What?”

“I’m cold…” He muttered with a childish pout, obvious in his voice if not visible in the dark. For a moment, he thought the man had decided to ignore him, not replying, but then, he spoke up.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

Teige debated, rolled over, then finally gave up, making up his mind as he pulled what he could of his cover around his body and stood, shivering as the cool granite against his bare feet sent shivers down his spine. Carefully, he padded across the distance between them, hating how his footsteps seemed to echo off the smooth rock, betraying his every movement until he arrived safely within a foot of his redheaded lover, his toes curling against the cold stone, inches away from the soft fur there as he eyed the other with a sudden hesitancy. From his laid back position on the ground, Davinoff’s unreadable russet gaze traveled over him, starting at his shivering, bare feet and lifting all the way up to his anxious blue eyes. To Teige, it felt like an eternity before he spoke.

“Well, are you going to get down here or not?” The question held a twinge of hope, a pinch of curiosity, and the barest implication of impatience, a combination that sent the standing man’s heart overflowing with relief.

A breath that Teige hadn’t known he’d been holding escaped his throat like a sea of moths as he collapsed on his knees in the fur beside his companion, his shaky legs no longer able to hold him. After regaining his nerves enough to lift his head, he found Drake’s gaze on him, dark eyes burning with a question that no longer needed answering, and before either had the chance to wait another heartbeat, the distance had closed between them.

Drake’s lips ate at him with a fervent passion not present in their previous endeavor, his kiss threatening to swallow him whole in a way that set the very air in his lungs on fire. He found himself atop the larger man, the covers slipping from his back, forgotten, and the cold no longer even registering on his skin, only hard, rough heat, lips, and tongue. Calloused fingers shoved at the base of his loose shirt, forcing it up around his stomach whilst his own hands splayed greedily over the already enticingly bare chest before him, exploring every ridge and curve of muscle with newfound fascination.

“Drake…” The moaned whisper drowned out amidst their kissing, forgotten like the fallen sheets, and Teige’s eyes shut, though it made little difference in the near-dark, as the spoken of man urged his shirt over his head, baring his heaving ivory chest to the faint light of the silver moon. “Tell me you won’t leave me again…” He whispered as their lips and breath tangled, sending heated bouts of steam into the frosty night air. “I’d chase you to the ends of this earth, but promise me I won’t have to…”

“You won’t…” Drake’s hands cupped his cheeks, chin, and neck, forever leading him closer even as he sat up, forcing the smaller figure back into a seated position on his lap. “I promise.”

“This is no one’s business but ours…I don’t want go through losing you again…” They paused for an instant, breaths mingling and eyes locked as their lungs screamed for air, bodies pressed tight as they could and foreheads together.

“If I have any say at all…you won’t ever have to…”

With those final words, nothing more needed saying, and their passions skyrocketed, powerful hands dragging the smaller man’s lean figure closer in an insatiable need for more and Teige’s fingers clutching helplessly to dark crimson locks with unabashed longing. Davinoff’s hungry kisses left trails of fire down the ivory chest before him, dragging out ragged, chopped sounds of varying intensity from the writhing man held captive in his grip, but the noises only served to fuel his craving, making each assault more rabid and needy.

In no time, Teige found his back pressed to smooth granite, his body caged in against the rock wall and seated firmly between his captor’s knees, a leg on either side of him. Eyes half shut and lungs gasping, his conscious only halfway registered the clink and clatter of metal and glass on rock before he felt a telltale slickness brush his bare back as Davinoff’s fingers slipped behind him. Only when the touch dipped beneath the waistline of his pants, however, did his mind snap fully into gear.

Without regards to the leggings still hanging loosely about the smaller man’s hips, Drake slid his hand back with purposeful insistence, relishing in the sharp intake of breath that echoed in the still night as he found what he was looking for. One digit, then two: Teige’s lips parted in silent, short gasps as the man made quick work of preparing him, his fingers clutching to the steadying, broad-shouldered frame for support as his mind threatened to fall to pieces altogether.

“Davinoff…” The name came out barely audible, Teige’s mind far too scrambled to come up with anything more complicated than a chopped whisper, and Drake dipped his head in response, pressing a kiss to the bobbing Adam’s apple of the smaller man’s throat even as Teige swallowed down a grated moan. “Oh, fuck, Drake, please…”

Obligingly, the man obeyed, shifting their positions until Teige sat, on his knees, chest facing the cavern wall and forehead to the stone. Drake’s fingers left his body in the rearranging process, leaving him with a clawing emptiness that demanded to be filled, and he waited with held breath and pounding heart as he heard the hasty rustle of cloth leaving his lover’s body and felt the last remaining garment leave his own skin, moving to aid its quick departure as he went.

Feeling the sharp press of the other’s rigid arousal against his bare skin, his breath caught again in his throat, fists clenching against the cold rock before him and eyes shutting tight. But, before the man made his initial press, gentle lips grazed his shoulder, and he turned with a soft intake of breath, startled until burgundy lashes, dark as the man’s hair, lifted to reveal hungry russet brown, currently swimming with a carnal craving that set his gut on fire. The next instant, harsh lips crushed to his, swallowing his cry at the overwhelming juxtaposition of pain and pleasure as Drake’s body drove into his.

For a few panted seconds, they hung there, Teige’s eyes shut, teeth grit, and hands to the wall with Davinoff’s muscled chest and pounding heartbeat pressed flat to his bare back. Then, quite unlike the time before, the pace picked up. Rapidly. The furs, which had started lined up to the wall, slid beneath them, quickly bunching up and eventually ending up mostly pushed aside, unimportant in the minds of two men focused entirely on primal urges, not the trivial placement of bedding.

Hard hands dug into the supple hips before them, dragging the slighter figure impossibly closer with each thrust and encouraging the smaller man’s needy rocking as he struggled to keep up to pace. Raven hair clung to the pale, shimmering back bellow it, splayed like black fingers across the silvern expanse even as one of Teige’s own hands slipped from wall to floor, creating the opposite effect against obsidian granite. Nothing but rapid breathing, scraping flesh, and the occasional incomprehensible murmured moan of encouragement filled the air for some time, all else fading away into the night. Then, the promise of completion took on new life.

As mutual need built between them, sporadic outbursts filling the darkness with a higher frequency and harsh thrusts becoming more animalistic than anything else, emotions heightened. Davinoff’s hand slid from hip, to waist, to stomach, then back up almost to the small of the slighter man’s back, mapping the gleaming body before him with vigilant care, as if to imprint every feature in his mind forever. Teige’s second hand fell from the cave wall to harsh ground, his head dropping and body slipping till he sat propped on elbows and knees, Drake’s support alone keeping him from total collapse. Each chopped pant met with cold stone as his fists clenched, eyes tight shut and once coherent sentences escaping him in the form of frayed cries.

Then, with his very existence seeming to teeter on the edge of oblivion, Davinoff’s hand slid beneath him, gracing over a flat, heaving chest and lean, even stomach before grasping the very source of his arousal. In time with his movements, it took two short strokes to send him tumbling into delirium. Seconds later, Drake followed after, spilling his release roughly into the pliant body beneath him and giving a shuddered moan as his body stilled.

Still rendered motionless from the aftereffects, Teige lay peacefully immobile in a contented haze as powerful arms wound their way around his stomach, the strong grip rolling him back onto soft, comforting forgotten furs and pulling his body into a tight spoon. As soon as he found the energy to move, Teige huddled closer, his almost lifelessly exhausted figure fitting perfectly into hard, protective cage of Davinoff’s adamant frame.

With lashes already too heavy to keep up, Teige stifled a yawn in order to get out his last question. “You’ll be here…when I wake up?”

A gentle kiss pressed to the roof of his head, and the firm weight of Drake’s unfalteringly confident words gave him peace. “I will.” There, they fell asleep, both in complete ignorance of the gleaming red eyes reflecting a jealous fury in the dark night.

Far out of sight and long out of earshot, an immortal predator roared his denial.

Note: Ooookaaayy...so...I don't usually put two smut scenes this close together...but this just refused to go away...and even though it is severly short compared to a lot of the ones I write...I think it turned out well. PLEASE review...see that little link down there? Well...down...past the replies I give to all the people I love more than anything in the world...yeah...waaaaay down there.......the one that says 'Review Prince Charming'? That's the one I want you to press. Because dinner and cookies have yet to lift my mood, and happy comments always do good things to my ego. :gonk: I'm done rambling, I haven't done it for...well...nevermind. Chya! No idea when the next update will be...but I have two more chapters written! So if I feel good...soon. Farewell, peoples.

Review Replies

Corenn: “Don’t worry…keep running all you like…but in the end he’ll catch you…because you don’t really want to escape, do you?”
BWAHAHAHAA !!! I KNEW IT !!! ... Teige really rules his seme XD I so easily picture him with black-leather cloths : a minishort, cuissardes, and a little top which cover only chest, holding a whips, and at his feet Davinoff, Raspel and Cyprien nude and kneeling to lick his boot XD. So-picture-it.
Anyway, aaaaangst *_____* ANGST IS MY GOD !! *o* Poor Teige and Drake... But that's so good XD And, anyway, we want 'em to deserve their happy hand, don't they ? No. End. "happy hand" is for single bishonen. Or for mutual masturbation. Whatever. Nothing to do with an end. ... Where was I, again ? @___@
Hollyday ? I write HOLLYday ? >___> __< AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGGGGGGHHHH
*try to find a good pretext* B-B-But it's because I'm going on a trip to visit church and... and other religious things ! So it's really *holly*day XD *read again this lame playword* >__> I think it was better without explanation finally...
Raspel and Cyprien in priest... Errr... Like in Hellsing ? XD Yeah, Raspel is a priest and Cyprien a nun ! *picture the scene* *collaspe drooling* A... nun... With... Black carry-jarretelle...
Cyprien : *sob*
Teige : *pat his back while humming conforting words* Here, here... You will escape.... You will escape... *take on his arms like a mother his child* Here...
Raspel+Drake : EYH ! And us ? >___<
Teige *kick away* GO AWAY, YOU BARBARIAN !!!
Raspel : +__+
Drake : And it's US the barbarian o__O *awake Raspek with clouts* WAKE UUUUUUP
Raspel : No mommy, not the cucumber, not the cucumber... *wape up* Huh ? Wazzup ? *see Teige petting Cyprien* The traitor !
Drake : 'Think he found the way to soften Teige...
Raspel : Yeah... To seduce uke, ALWAYS play on their maternal instinct.
Drake : You seriously think I will ever cry like that ? 'm not gay, me !
Raspel : That was you were shagging with him, and why he's not hugging Cyprien >__>
Drake : *cry*

Rotfl! Wow. You picture Teige as a dominatrix little uke, don't you? Hehe...^^ Actually...I did get that image in my head...and now...thanks to you...I can't get it out! :gonk: -Ahem- Oh well...I suppose I'll live. I'm glad you liked the angst...and yes! They must deserve their........happy...ending. xP Happy...hand? Hehehehehe....heh. Nice mental image on that one. T_T

Hollyday? Ohhhhh...'holly' because you're going...to church? That would be 'holy'....holly is like...a type of plant. :gonk: Shrubbery I think...with little red berries....maybe...? Holy is relating to the church and HOLIday...is just...well...I'm not sure. But it's a holiday! xD *Cyprien in a nun's outfit* o___O Black jarretelle?! Nun's don't wear garters!! :gonk: That...is...what a jarretelle is...right? ^^; I punched it into a translator...

Aww...poor Drake...*cuddles*

Drake: *scowl*
Me: Hehehehe.....*backs away slowly, then runs off with the fearsome, death-defying speed of a peg-legged chicken* Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! *trips*
Drake: *stare*
Teige: *giggle*
Drake: *raises eyebrow* Men don't giggle.
Teige: Oh yeah? And apparently they don't do this either. *tackles and makes-out with*
Drake: Mm...*mumbles* Guess we're women then...
Teige: *blink* *stare* Speak for yourself...

THE END! G'day...and thanks for the review! *heart* Hope you're having fun on your holiday!

Falcon Bertille: Wicked little cliffhanger! Will our lovers be reconciled? Or will Drake continue being a stubborn ass?

Poor Drake. I actually feel quite sorry for him, despite his idiotic attempt to abandon Teige. Your ability to make readers feel sympathy for a character, even when he's behaving in a way that we don't approve of, is a strong indication of your writing skill. Anyway, as foolish as I find his actions, it would be impossible to believe that someone like Drake could easily settle into any sort of intimate relationship, much less a homosexual one. And he did have the decency to leave Teige a horse and over half of the supplies, so that makes his flight a bit more forgivable.

There were several strong descriptive passages in this chapter. When Teige collapses in the snow after being abandoned by Drake, you really made me see and feel that. It's hard to believe you don't have any firsthand experience with real snow! And later, your description of the abandoned village, with the sun hitting it like "a luminous glow outside a crystal ball" -- that was creepy and beautiful at the same time.

And the bit toward the end, when he starts to talk to his horse, that completely made me chuckle. “I’m talking to a horse…” Stallion snorted indignantly. “…a very…important…horse.” LOL!

Can't wait to read the next bit!

Love,
Falcon

^^ Originally...the chapter didn't end with the cliff like that. When I first wrote it up, I cut it off after the cave-entrance kissy reunion or whatever you wanna call it...I called it quits right after Teige had accepted the invitation to eat dinner. Then, later, when I was going back over it...I decided that this chapter in itself wasn't very long and...I just love cliffies. And I felt an obligation to give at LEAST one chapter of tension after the first bout of..........lovemaking.

I'm glad people, especially you, seem to take well to Drake...even if he has his...frustrating moments. Part of me felt guilty for making him run off...but another just couldn't accept that he'd all of a sudden be comfortable with such a drastic change. He's working on it though...steadily...

And the snow! Acctually, I did have one experience with snow reasonably recently (about two years ago, I think? I suppose it depends on your idea of recent...) Anyway, it's the only experience I actually remember with real snow...the snow patch was about three inches deep and five feet wide at the biggest part...I made a two inch tall snowman that I could fit in the palm of my hand, complete with pine-needle arms, rock hat and dirt-clod eyes...I felt so very proud of myself...but the snow didn't seem much different then very airy ice...I had to kick it to get it loose. -shrug- I played on the memory a little, but I'm really not a cold person (though I always complain about the heat), so I'm glad you think the snow scene came out about right. ^^

And yay! You liked the part with Stallion. ^^ He's not a dog or a bird, but he's most definitely a faithful companion...and he doesn't talk-back or over complicate things...just the way Drake likes it. (Or used to like it...now he has Teige and he'll just have to deal. Ha! -Ahem-......)

Still, thankies for the lovely review! ^^ And good luck with your own story, site, place, lady, thingymajig.....yeah. xP ^^ Cha.

Charisa: DAMMIT! A cliffie!!!

Ah...and don't we all just LOVE those? Oh? Only ME? BWAHAHAhahahahhahaaaa....-cough- Hehe. I'm done now... Thanks for reviewing!