Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter 24.
Title: Polinues Marines, the would be mage.

Chapter Title & No.: #24. A lie, a secret, a fateful mistake.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non.

Rating: NC - 17
Abuse, Anal, Angst, BDSM, Bi, B-Mod, Bond, Death, D/s, H/C, HJ, Humil, Language, M/F, M/M, Minor, N/C, OC, Oral, Preg, Rim, Spank, Violence, Voy, VS, WD, WIP.

Archive: Originals - misc. > Slash-male/male.
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism. Please rate if you do not want to leave a review.

Disclaimer: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance of places and characters to actual persons, living or dead, and places is purely coincidental.
The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.

Authors Notes: For review replies, comments and thank you's go to: http://www2.adult-fanfiction.org/forum/index.php/topic/14530-polinues-marines-the-would-be-mage/

Summary: Disaster is far too mild a word to describe it.

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Chapter 24. A lie, a secret, a fateful mistake.

“Let go of his hair, Arlathi!” - “Shut the fuck up! You let go!” - “Leyjen! Watch his hands!” - “Stop it, both of you! Get off!”

“I’m serious, Arlathi! I’m going to kill you!”

“Polinues! Belnsair, pull him off!” - “You pull him off, Shaoir! He started it!” - “No, I didn’t!” - “Yes, you did!”

“Shut the fuck up, all of you!”.

A fist rose in the air, and Leyjen screamed as it landed in his left eye, tearing out the ring that had been pierced into his eyebrow three years ago.
He lost his grip around Polinues’ waist, the nine summers boy lunging for his twin again.
Belnsair managed to twist the younger twin out of the way, and stopped Polinues short with a fist aimed at his sternum, but it landed in his diaphragm.
The boy gasped, then crumbled down on the floor, struggling to breathe, but his lungs would not work.

“Belnsair! Are you crazy?” Leyjen roared, and grabbed Polinues by the waist.
He held the boy close to his chest and made him stand up straight and bend down repeatedly, until with a loud gulp Polinues started breathing again.
Belnsair sat on the floor,cradling the younger twin, who was wimpering pathetically.

“You lost your ring.” Belnsair said stiffly, indicating Leyjen’s eyebrow, and the two of them started looking around on the floor, trying to locate the small steel ring, while holding the twins back by the collars of their shirts.

“Ah, to Hell with it. I’m sure the Temple can give me another one. I can’t believe it’s never happened that someone lost a piercing.” Leyjen said after a few minutes, rising to his feet, and stretching his back. Belnsair followed suit, and picked Arlathi off the floor like a ragdoll.

They stared at each other for a few tense moments, Leyjen holding Polinues tightly, the boy still gasping for breath, tears streaming down his cheeks, then Belnsair nodded his head curtly, and said,
“You should go and see the witch or father’s physician about that. You wouldn’t want it to scar.”

Leyjen nodded back, and turned his back on the Marines brothers, pulling Polinues with him towards the physician’s office.

The physician stitched together Leyjen’s eyebrow, and took a look at the dark bruise forming just below Polinues’ sternum, telling them that both would be fine by the time they went back to the Temple.

Leyjen lead the way to the library, Arlathi’s shrieks of protest echoing from the offices of Lord Marines.
Leyjen didn’t speak a word to Polinues as he lead the way into one of the many study rooms off the library, and sank down on a highbacked chair infront of the blazing fireplace, with an exhausted sigh.
Polinues came around the side of the chair, hesitant and apologetic, staring down at his mentor.
Leyjen looked a bit older than his now nineteen summers, and Polinues knew in his heart that some of it was his fault.

He had tried and tried for a whole year to be good, to keep himself out of trouble and keep Leyjen out of trouble, and for the most part he had been successful.
He had even managed to keep the peace through an entire Life day party that passed summer, much to Arlathi’s annoyance.
But now it was Yule again, and Arlathi had broken a beautiful puzzle box Polinues had been given by his uncle, the mage. The same uncle that had, the year before, given him an enchanted, flying dragon statue, that Arlathi had broken on purpose.

And not only had Arlthi broken this years present, but he had also discovered the journal Leyjen had given Polinues the year before.
This particular fight had started when Arlathi began reading from the journal outloud to the nurses in the playroom.
None of the twelve nurses had even tried to stop the boys, but scattered, shouting for Leyjen and Belnsair.

Polinues had tried so hard to be good, but Arlathi’s scathing commentary while reading from his personal journal had been enough to drive him crazy, he had snapped completely when Arlathi had leisurely started tearing pages from the book, with that fruitcake grin of his plastered on his face.
Even fully grown Leyjen and Belnsair had been almost unable to tear them apart.

Leyjen hid his face in his hands, sighing from the bottom of his chest, thumbs rubbing at his temples, a light hand on his shoulder made him jump.
Looking up he was surprised to see Polinues’ grey eye swimming in tears.

“I’m sorry.” Was all the boy said, and Leyjen’s heart fluttered around the room wildly, fighting to escape his chest.

“It’s alright. I guess you were justified. I just wish you’d stop trying to kill him. I’m so afraid that one day you’ll succeed, and the possible concequences scare me to no end.”

“I don’t try to kill him every time. And I don’t use magick anymore. I just throttle him now.”

“I know, Ilithil. I know. But still…”
Polinues let himself sink down on Leyjen’s lap and snuggled close to his chest, stroking one hand down the muscular arm.

“I’ll stop trying to kill him. I promise. I’ll only knock him unconscious and leave it at that.” Polinues said, his voice sombre and sincere, but Leyjen could sense the impish grin that lurked in the corners of the boy’s mouth.

“Fine. If you only knock him out, I guess I can forgive that.” Leyjen answered with a laugh, and tickled the boy’s sides teasing.
Polinues laughed animatedly and wriggled out of Leyjen’s lap, his scent overpowering everything else in the room. Leyjen gasped, and looked away, his blood rushing in his ears.

That scent was becoming stronger and stronger, and that much harder to resist, so hard in fact that it was beginning to worry Leyjen.
He had to struggle with himself sometimes, when the boy came crawling into his bed at night, afraid and shaking after a nightmare. After nights like that Leyjen fled into Amraeen’s arms, desperated to forget the scent of the Roganwood.
Amraeen only made him forget for a moment.
As soon as he returned to the Temple, it all came back.

He couldn’t help himself though, as he rose to his feet and chased the boy, grabbing him around the middle and tickling him until Polinues was squealing with laughter, fighting Leyjen playfully.
Polinues struggled against the strong arms around him, knocking his fist into Leyjen’s shoulder.
They both stopped as Polinues cried out in pain, and cupped his right fist against his chest.
Leyjen pulled on his wrist to take a look, and found the knuckles scraped, a light bruise forming on the back of his hand, and Polinues gasped in pain when Leyjen brushed a thumb over the knuckles.

“What happened? This can’t be from hitting Arlathi. He’s far too soft to leave marks like that.” Leyjen said, examining the hand to make sure nothing was broken.
Polinues squirmed under his scrutiny, and mumbled,

“I think I’m the one who punched you in the eye. I’m sorry, I was aiming for Belnsair, but your face got in the way.”
Leyjen touched his own swelling black eye, wincing at the pain, but let the matter drop.

Instead he rose to his feet and sat down by the desk in the study, and pointed Polinues to sit down opposite him.
“Now. We’re back at water spells.” Leyjen said quietly, pushing his old worn spell book across the table to Polinues.
The boy sat down, looking at the index of spells.
They had gone through that entire spell book at least twice in the five years Polinues had been studying his magick in secret, and were now on round three.

“Are you still utter crap at water spells?” Polinues asked with a grin, and Leyjen couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“Yes, I’ve just never been any good at them. Fire spells are my gift. Water, not so much.”

“Show me that spell. The one with the fire in your hands.” Polinues pleaded, his excitement infectious, and Leyjen rubbed his palms together, asking,

“What? This one?” as he splayed his fingers, warm orange fire engulfing his hands, the flames stroking his skin with the gentle caresses of lovers.

Polinues oohed and gasped, then with a proud smile he imitated Leyjen’s movements, and reaching his hands towards his mentor, he said,
“Like this!” and his own small hands burst into flames, dancing between his thin fingers in liquid motion.

Leyjen made a sound of admiration, folding his fingers into a fist, quenching the fire, as he watched Polinues’ display of skills with a slight swell of pride in his chest.

That pride quickly turned to fear, and panic, as Polinues’ concentration faltered, his hands trembled and in a blink of an eye the skin of Polinues’ hands began to blister and burn, the boy crying out in pain, the flames eating away his flesh terrifyingly fast.
“Polinues! Polinues! Ilithil!” Leyjen yelled at him, grabbing the small hands between his own, and putting the fire out quickly, cradling the boy to his chest.

“Hush, it’s alright. It was just an illusion, Ilithil. It was just a trick of the mind. See, you’re alright now.”

Polinues hands emerged from Leyjen’s grasp, pale and unscathed, the last of the illusion falling away from his skin like fine ash, disappearing before it hit the floor.

The boy drew a deep shaking breath, and held it for a moment before he let it out. Leyjen knelt by his chair for a few more moments, but when Polinues turned back to the spell book and cleared his throat, as if he was waiting for Leyjen, the cleric stood up and sat down on his chair.

After a long, uncomfortable silence, Leyjen said quietly,
“Polinues. You’ll get better at it. You just have to practice, and fight that fear until you can control it. But you have to learn how to control it. If you don’t, the magick will take over you, and destroy you.”

“I know. I try and I try. But it’s the fire, Leyjen. I can’t help it, I always get scared when there is fire.”

“You have to overcome that fear, Ilithil. Being afraid is the best way to get yourself killed.”

Polinues looked away, and Leyjen knew it was useless, the boy would only learn on his own, there was nothing Leyjen could do to make him stop being afraid.
They sat in silence, studying their magick, thankful that the household never suspected them when they were studying.
Everyone just assumed they were studying their doctrines.


Leyjen pulled at the laces of his trousers, letting them fall loose around his waist, as he picked a piece of persica twig from his little vanity and stuck it between his teeth. Stretching, making his back creak, he chewed on the twig, as he sank down on his bed, his trousers hanging feebly on to his hips, and hanging his head he sighed wearily.

Amraeen watched him from the shadows of the secret doorway, a heaviness in his heart.
The boy was a boy no longer. He had grown into a man, a man burdened by responsibility and high expectations, and the care of that little knight’s son.
Amraeen sometimes wished he could take Leyjen away, and give him a life far away from worry and pain.

Silent he entered the room, and sat down on the bed beside Leyjen, the young man jumping slightly, but then sighed when Amraeen massaged the back of his neck gently.
Amraeen saw tears pearling on the long lashes, as Leyjen turned away quickly.

“What is the matter?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired. They fought each other all day. I’ve hated Belnsair all of my life, but today I was glad to have him here.”

“The twins?”

“Yes. Who else? I can’t understand it, Amraeen. I’ve never seen anyone hate each other with such passion. It’s as if they are determined to destroy each other before they even come of age. He came after Polinues with a dagger yesterday. A dagger! Not a butter knife, or a dinner knife, an actual bonafide dagger.”

“Sometimes there is no reason for it, Leyjen. Some people just hate each other.”

“But they’re brothers, Amraeen! Twins. They should share a bond stronger than between any other siblings. But instead, they spend all of their days fighting and trying their best to murder the other. I just don’t understand it. I’ve never had siblings, but I doubt I would ever treat them like that. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

“Your father and your uncle? They are twins. And look at how much they hate each other.”
Amraeen tried to smile, but the intensity in Leyjen’s eyes made it hard.

“You forget, loved, I’ve never actually met my uncle. And my father, I’ve met only twice. He may command me from time to time through his telepathy but I’ve only been in his physical presence twice in my life. Besides, that’s different.”

“How so?”

“They are gods. Polinues and Arlathi are just humans.”

“Descendant of gods, if my memory serves me.”

Leyjen looked up at his lover, the pain in his eyes still stinging.

Amraeen leaned forwards, brushing his lips over Leyjen’s lips but the teen stopped him.
Amraeen watched him as Leyjen rose to his feet, and walked over to the vanity, spitting out the chewed up piece of persica twig, then rinsing his mouth out with water.

Amraeen glided up behind him, a sharp tug on the waistband of his trousers caused them to fall to the floor, and Leyjen stood naked before the long mirror beside the vanity, Amraeen’s fingers toying with the steel rings in his areolae.
Amraeen nibbled hard at the muscular shoulder, tracing the long neckline with his tongue, Leyjen’s head falling back as he moaned quietly, Amraeen gripped his chin and raised his head so that the teen was staring at himself in the mirror.

“Look at yourself. See what you do to me. Look at the magnificent creature that you have become.” Amraeen whispered, toying with the lean body, tracing fingers over sensitive spots, nibbling his sharp canines into the soft flesh, drawing tiny pearls of blood.
Leyjen stared at himself in the mirror, seemingly entranced, but Amraeen soon realized that Leyjen was watching the Vampyr, and not himself.

Amraeen slowly drew his own clothes off, while he played with Leyjen’s body, drawing long quiet moans from Leyjen, the teen’s hands trembling on Amraeen’s waist, as the Vampyr stood with his back to the mirror and let his underwear fall to the floor.
Leyjen finally wrapped his arms around Amraeen’s shoulders, and lead him to the bed.

He writhed on the soft linen as Amraeen traced the outlines of his muscles with his tongue, lower and lower until his lips wrapped around the head of the teen’s cock, sucking him in greedily.
Leyjen tried to be discreet as he pulled the black leather braid over his head, and put Polinues’ pendant on the nightstand, but Amraeen noticed the movement.
Leyjen stared down at Amraeen, the pink lips stretched around his cock, and moaning Leyjen bucked his hips, allowing himself to fall completely into the pleasure that was his lover.

Amraeen couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes when he noticed Leyjen remove the pendant, but he hoped that Leyjen was beyond caring as he dipped his mouth over the straining cock, and moaned at the taste of Leyjen’s precome.
The scent between his legs was heavy and intoxicating, making Amraeen want to skip all thoughts of foreplay. But he could sense that Leyjen needed this.
All he cared about was Leyjen’s happiness, and Leyjen’s pleasure, so he ran his fingers over Leyjen’s sides, sinking down over his cock and swallowed as it hit the back of his throat.
Leyjen let out a choked scream.

After long minutes Leyjen’s hips began to thrust erratically, he lifted his knees and spread his legs, moaning incomprehensibly about wanting more.
Amraeen twirled a finger around his pucker, enjoying the feeling of the wet entrance before he pushed a finger in, sinking in as far as the teen would take him.
Amraeen sucked harder at the twitching cock, and drew his finger out, then pushed two in, Leyjen silently screaming, and bucking his hips.

The explosion of opium in Amraeen’s mouth made him gasp, swallowing greedily, he plunged a third finger into Leyjen’s ass, pumping hard as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his come, Leyjen twitching uncontrollably.
The teen fell limply back on the bed, writhing in pleasure as Amraeen forced a fourth finger into his ass, up to his knuckles, stroking his prostate violently.
Leyjen gasped, his hands clawing weakly at Amraeen’s chest, begging him to enter and Amraeen obliged with one smooth thrust, sinking in to the roots, and Leyjen wailed in pleasure.


Polinues gasped in pain, the searing heat streaming from the broken ground all around him shimmering in the air, sweat pouring down his muscular back, getting into his eyes, the voluminous black robes billowing around his long, powerful legs.

A beautiful woman stood a few feet away, chanting attack spells loudly, dressed in the midnight blue robes of the NightMagi, a raven braid of hair swinging down her back to her waist, Arlathi standing on the other side of a large crevice, shouting out barrings spells.

A black armoured knight laughed manically as he rushed over the blackened ground, his enormous two handed sword aimed at Polinues’ neck.
Polinues raised his own sword, steel clashing with steel, and he felt himself slide back a step with the force of the attack.

“Prepare to die.” The knight hissed into his face, so close that Polinues could feel himself being pulled into the empty darkness of his eyes, and with everything he had left he pushed the knight away, blocking another attack.
They fought in silent determination, both intent on being the one to walk away from this battle, both knowing that only one of them would.
Polinues swung his sword in a graceful arc, hitting the black shield so hard it split down the middle, and the knight stumbled backwards, falling to one knee.

“Give up now, and I will spare your life.” Polinues said, his voice stronger and more commanding than he had ever known it could be.
The knight chuckled, his head bent, Polinues just barely caught the tailend of the spell Arlathi was shouting, and with a scream Polinues jumped to the side, rolling over the ground as the spell hit the spot where he had been standing a moment earlier.
He rose up on one knee, his sword raised in the air, ready for the attack, but the knight was still kneeling, panting heavily.

The young mage ran forwards, shouting an attack spell, and too late Polinues screamed after her,
“NO! He’s faking!”

She was moving too fast to stop, the knight lunged forwards with his sword infront of him, aimed at the woman’s chest.
She twisted to the side, the long steel blade slicing into her side, and falling to the ground she screamed in agony.

“Leave her! This is between you and me!” Polinues shouted, rising to his feet and saluting the knight with his sword, as he advanced.

The manic laughter that issued from the black knight’s throat stopped him in his tracks.
The knight grabbed the mage’s raven braid and dragged her by the hair to the edge of the cliff.

“Let me just clear the garbage out of the way first.” The knight said calmly, as he pulled the young mage to her feet, grabbing the front of her robes and threw her over the cliff.

“An-Dralith!”

Polinues felt his heart fall with the young woman, as he ran towards the edge, and falling down watched as she fell to the flat rocks below, the crunching thud echoing faintly underneath the roar of the lavapits.

He was senseless to the world, nothing registered other than the lifeless form below him, until he could sense the cold steel on the back of his neck.
He twisted around, staring up at the black knight, as he raised his sword above Polinues’ chest, his face stone cold,

“And now you die.” The knight said, the gleaming steel rushed down, and Polinues screamed.

Polinues blinked his eyes rapidly, an echo reverberating from the walls of his room.
He realized it was the echo of his own scream, he had screamed as he had awoken.
Or perhaps he had woken himself up with his screams.

His body was shaking violently, and tears flowing from his eyes, but he couldn’t tell if they were from fear or pain, the image of the young woman flying over the cliff tearing at his mind.

With a slight whimper he pushed the covers off himself, and drew a harsh breath, the bedsheets under him were wet.
He began to cry harder, desperation filling him as he realized he had wet the bed.
Almost ten summers and wetting the bed, he would never hear the end of it, if he woke one of the nurses.

Even if he woke Thelaura his mother would still find out, and she would tell father, and the nurses would talk between them and then Arlathi and Belnsair would find out, and mother would make him talk to the philosopher again.
There was not any use trying to find Hiram, she was now only a daynurse for his younger sisters, because she had married and had a child of her own almost three years earlier, now she lived out in the court, in one of the cottages.

“Leyjen.” He whispered to himself, knowing that the young cleric was the only one he could trust.

Polinues jumped out of his bed, peeling the wet nightshirt off and finding the tunic he had worn during the day, he didn’t want to soil another nightshirt before he could wash off.
He grabbed his stuffed toy bear off his bed and padded in bare feet down the cold stone corridor to Leyjen’s room.

Leyjen growled hungrily, his hands gripping the headboard hard, Amraeen’s arms wrapped around his hips, lifting his ass of the bed, as the Vampyr plowed into him, canines sinking into his shoulder.
Leyjen tore into the thick muscle of Amraeen’s shoulder, letting the blood flow into his mouth, as he came for a second time, in hot thick spurts onto his stomach.
Amraeen chuckled viciously as he lifted himself up to his knees, thrusting harder into the tight ass as it clenched around him painfully hard.
Leyjen’s eyes fluttered shut as he writhed on the bed, flushed and panting, moaning Amraeen’s name.
Amraeen growled as he felt the familiar pressure build in his groin, digging his fingers into the soft white flesh, he thrust as hard as Leyjen could take him.

Polinues was surprised to find Leyjen’s door locked, the darkness of the corridor more frightening than usual. He heard unfamiliar sounds, they seemed to come from close by, but he couldn’t make out from where.
Whispering the spell Leyjen had taught him, Polinues stroked two fingers over the door, where the lock was and heard it slide open.
He eased the door open and slid through the gap silently, closing the door behind him, then stopped midway between the bed and the door.

Someone was kneeling on Leyjen’s bed, a pale, discoloured back moving rhythmically, slender hips thrusting forwards against Leyjen’s ass, Leyjen’s long, muscular legs pointing towards the ceiling, the stranger’s arms wrapped around his thighs, his fingers digging into Leyjen’s hips hard enough to leave bruises.

Polinues whimpered quietly, there was blood flowing down from the stranger’s shoulder, and in the dip below Leyjen’s collarbone Leyjen’s own blood pooled crimson against the pale skin.
The stranger was moaning loudly, gasping for air, his muscles rippling under his discoloured skin, as he looked around, azure blue eyes locking with Polinues’ storm grey eye.

Amraeen arched his back, spilling himself inside the tight ass, a soft whimper behind him startling him enough to twist around, and his eyes locked with the one grey eye of the little boy, and he froze.
Leyjen arched his back, enjoying the feeling of warmth spreading in his gut, but also sensing the change in Amraeen’s movements, he looked up, and stared at the little boy by the foot of the bed.

“POLINUES! GET OUT!!”