My Sweet Ilithil

Title: My Sweet Ilithil.

Chapter Title & No.: Bad decisions come at a high cost. #7.

Author: Darkling Willow

Pairing: Non

Rating: NC-17

Archive: Yes please.
Feedback: Yes thank you very much. An author can only improve with criticism.

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: I’ve been working on a fantasy novel for half my life now. It all started with one character and a name, but has grown into about a dozen characters, original races and species and a whole world. Yeah, it kind of got out of hand.
These chapters are just little oneshots, that I want to have as a part of the main story, but would never be allowed in mainstream publishing, so, I’m giving you guys a chance to read them.

Kylee. Thank you once again. Only one chapter left of this story I'm afraid. But since you are so eager to learn more about them, keep an eye out, and very soon I'll have the first chapter of the full story up. Thank you again for reading and being such a diligent reviewer.

Summary: Nothing can stay hidden forever, and Ley. knows that.
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As the second spring after the Vampyr’s attack slowly came around, Pol.’s concerns for Ley. increased, for Ley. had become dangerously reckless in his passion for the teen.

A week before Ley.’s Turning, they just barely escaped discovery by the High Cleric of the Temples.
Ley. had dragged Pol. into one of the many sitting rooms of the Temples, which were used by the many clerics when counselling grieving families, or people who were questioning their faith, or just when mentors needed to have a quiet word with their novices.
Ley. had been rimming Pol. with such passion that Pol. was writhing like a wanton whore bent face first over the silken couch, when the doors opened and the voice of their High Cleric came floating in.
There had been a wild scramble as Ley. rolled them to the floor and behind another sofa, just as the High Cleric entered the room, and sat down in a large chair infront of the fireplace.
Ley. held a hand over Pol.’s mouth, as a servant brought the High Cleric his afternoon tea, and the rotund man began to drink and eat with slow relish.
Pol.’s heart had thundered in his chest so hard, he was certain that the High Cleric would hear it, as Ley. wet his fingers and began stretching Pol. slowly, Pol. struggling against him, to no avail.
Pol. had not dared breathe a word, chewing on his peach robes, as Ley. entered him and fucked him right there, with slow languid movements, behind a couch, on the floor of the sitting room, with the High Cleric of their Temple snoring softly only a few feet away.
Pol. had been angry enough to ignore Ley. for two whole days after they got out of the sitting room.

The three days Ley. spent in meditation before his Turning, were torture for Pol., he was bored to no end, and the nights he spent in sweaty, wet dreams.
During the ceremony of the Turning Pol. could hardly sit still.
His body ached with longing, his cock throbbing painfully between his legs, as he watched Ley. kneeling, on the lowest tier of the three tiered stage.
There was something about the submissive position that made Polinues ache that much more for the elder cleric, Ley. was sitting on his heels, his fingers clamped tightly around his ankles, his back perfectly straight and his head bent forwards until his chin was almost touching his chest, and he was only wearing his thin linen trousers, his light olive skin prickling with the cold.
Slowly the ritual went on, Ley. climbing the three tiers, and lay down on the altar, the High Cleric placing the stud at the top of his nose, between his eyes, and finally it was all over.
The guests and novices over the age of 16, filed out after the clerics, and the feast began in the Celebrations Hall.
Pol. hung around his parents until his father gave up and everyone went to bed, then Pol. stole the half empty bottle of red wine of the table, and snuck up to Ley.’s room.
Pol. took off his robe, and settled himself on the bed. He swigged at the bottle, meaning to stay up until Ley. would get away from the revelry.
He had finished the bottle, and was nodding off, when Ley. finally came up.

Pol. woke to the feeling of Ley.’s lips on his bare chest, suckling at a nipple, the heel of his palm pressing against his half hard cock. Pol. tried to pull Ley. up, into a kiss, but Ley. trailed kisses lower and lower, tearing away at the laces of Pol.’s linen trousers, until he wrapped his lips around the swollen head of Pol.’s cock, refusing to look up.
Pol. moaned and bucked, as Ley. sucked him, hard and frantic, pushing a finger against the dark pucker, adding another finger after only a few thrusts.
Pol. couldn’t fight him, couldn’t push him away, so he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, and let Ley. take him which ever way Ley. wanted.
Pol. was on the brink of orgasm, when Ley. suddenly stood up and forcefully turned him over onto his stomach.
The teen tried to object, but Ley. didn’t listen.
Pol. cried out, as Ley. grabbed a handful of his hair, and forced his face deep into the pillows, the blunt head of his cock pushing into Pol. relentlessly, only the slightest bit of spit providing lubrication.
Pol. gripped the sheets painfully, struggling to breathe, fighting to get away from the intrusion, but Ley. pushed into him, holding him down by the full weight of his body, pulling on his hair so hard that Pol.’s scalp felt on fire.
Growling deep in his chest, Ley. plunged into the tight heat of Pol.’s ass, thrusting with all he had, ignoring the painfilled sobs that threatened to tear the boy in half.
Pol. felt Ley. change, the supernatural strength that Ley. held in his true form frightening the teen to tears.
Pol. felt violated, torn in half, not the pleasant feeling of being filled to the brink of his being, and then loved with everything that Ley. had to give him.
This was a ravaging hunger, the only thought present was sating it, no regard for the feelings of the other person.
Ley. gasped, held his breath, as he milked his orgasm into the shaking teen, Pol. biting back a scream of pain.
Ley. sank down on the bed, sighing contently, lying down beside Pol.

Pol. crawled away from him, his muscles barely under control, he could feel Ley.’s semen leaking out of him, mixed with a faint trail of blood.
As his feet touched the bare stone floor, he tried to rise, but his knees gave out and he slipped down onto the floor, with a whimper.
Ley. rose up on the bed, noticing for the first time the tears streaking down Pol.’s face.
Ley. jumped out of the bed, and crouched down beside the teen, but Pol. pushed him away.
“Leave me be.” He choked, hating Ley. from his very core.
Ley.’s amber eyes turned sad, and the elder cleric licked his lips uncertain.
“I’m sorry…” he began, but quieted when he saw the firey anger in Pol.’s eyes.
Pol. tried to rise again, but the pain in his backside was too much, and he fell down on his hip, leaning his upper body away from the elder cleric, his arms shaking under the weight.
Ley. knelt down beside him, and pulled him into an embrace, pulling him up onto the bed, Pol. let him, wrapping his arms around Ley.’s shoulders and breathed in the fragrant skin.

The smell of poppies, the smell Pol. loved so much, the smell that was as much a part of Ley. as his amber eyes, was faint.
There was another smell, the smell of lavender clinging to Ley.’s skin, masking his own scent of poppies.

With a strangled cry Pol. pushed away from Ley., falling back on the bed, trying to get away from him.
Pol. knew that smell.
He’d smelled it so many times before.

Her name was Alina. She had only been a teenager, all those nights that she had spent by his bedside after the abbey fire, a little older than Ley., tending to his burns and holding his hand. After the Vampyr attack she had been there again, by then a grown woman, a Healer of the First Stage.
Dark brown hair, with round dark hazel eyes, her thin straight nose, perched above full deep red lips, that hid the most wonderful smile, her alabaster skin so soft it put even the best silk to shame, and always the scent of fresh lavender hung about her.
She had been a dreamer, a perfect child of nature, and her natural skill as a Healer had been the source of jelousy from many of her fellow students.
And now her scent clung to Ley.’s skin, cloying and perverted.

“Alina?” Pol. gasped, Ley. sneered, revealing faint pinkish teeth.
Pol. cried out and scrambled backwards across the bed, but Ley. was too fast for him.
Ley. pinned him to the bed, whispering hoarsely into Pol.’s ear, drunk and angry,
“I needed to feed. I needed blood.”
“But I was waiting for you. You swore you would never be with anyone else. You drank from Alina?”
“Yes. I needed it.”
“But you swore.” Pol. couldn’t help his tears falling as he struggled against the stronger cleric.
“Who cares? I would have told you anything. I would have promised you anything. I can have what I want…” Ley. looked away, loosening his grip on Pol. but not letting him go.
“You slept with Alina? Why? Why would you betray me like that?” Pol. fought harder, getting one arm loose and slapping Ley. hard across the cheek.
Ley. fell back from the hit, hissing angrily, then he slapped Pol. back, growling,
“No! I didn’t lie with her!”
Pol. gasped loudly, his breath caught in his throat.
“What did you do, Ley.?” he whispered.
Ley. looked at him out of the corner of his eye, his canines elongating, his eyes slowly turning to pools of dark liquid amber, and with a horrifying voice he answered,
“I drank from her. I followed her, I stalked her, and then I drank. I drank until I was full, and she was no more.”
Pol. couldn’t breathe, crawling out of the bed, he panted pathetically, stumbling blindly away from Ley.

The elder cleric rose from the bed, walking slowly towards the faltering teen, wave after wave of debilitating fear pulsating out of him.
Pol.’s legs gave out from under him, half way to the door, and whimpering he crawled to the wall, and cowered against it.
Ley. advanced, letting his black wings spring forth and moving them slowly, fanned the fear in Pol.’s chest.
Standing over the terrified teen Ley. spoke again, his voice reverberating through every bone in Pol.’s body,
“I am a Lord of the Aaenda. I am Fire. Bow to me and obey. I shall do as I please.”
Pol. cried out as Ley. began speaking, his heart fighting to leave his chest, his tears falling unchecked.
He closed his eyes, waiting for the killing blow, but when it didn’t come, something clicked into place inside him. Pol. felt his heart slowing down, felt the fear leave his mind, and his tears dried up, he understood.
He turned slowly around, looking up at the awe-inspiring sight of Ley. in his full supernatural form, tall and regal, a force to be reckoned with.
Pol.’s eyes trailed up the rippling muscles, the angular face, the soft deep auburn hair, and the flaming amber eyes.

Anyone else who had ever seen an Aaenda in its true form had felt fear, terror, everyone else had thrown themselves down and begged for mercy, everyone else saw one of the most powerful beings to ever walk on the face of the planet.

Pol. saw a young man, struggling to make sense of his world, and his place in it, a young man who wanted nothing more than to please his family, and everyone else around him. Pol. saw a fear of failing, a sadness over the love that Ley. had done his utmost to conceal for so many years, a desperate fear of what could happen if the truth of the last five years were ever to come out, a sorrow over the love he was now struggling to push away with everything he had.

Pol. stood, calm and queit, and crossing the three feet between them, he wrapped his arms around Ley.’s waist and lay his head against Ley.’s shoulder, whispering,
“I love you, Ley.”
Ley.’s skin felt as if it was on fire, almost painfully hot, but Pol. didn’t think about that, all he could think about was quieting Ley. down enough for the elder cleric to tell him what was wrong.
After a few strangled breaths, Ley. shuddered, and gasping in pain he wrapped his arms around Pol. whispering into his hair,
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I can’t push you away. No matter how much I try, I can’t think of my life without you.”
Pol. nodded,
“You don’t need to think about it. I’m not going anywhere.”
Ley. broke down, crumbling to the floor, crying in his lover’s arms.
Pol. couldn’t get another word out of him for seventeen days. Not until the day before they were to return to Castle Mar. on the regular one week respite, after the Turning.

Pol. stood in the doorway of Ley.’s room, watching the elder cleric intently. Ley. had lost weight, and he did not look like he’d slept much.

Alina’s body had been discovered in the forest, half a mile east of the Temples, three days after she disappeared. After a thorough investigation it was concluded that she had gone to the Healing Halls late in the feast after the Turning ceremony, and from there she had gone to the south wall of the Temple grounds to take some air. After that it was anyone’s guess, really, but the constables figured that the most likely scenario was that she had been tricked into coming outside the wall by someone, and then taken by force to the forest where she had been murdered.

Ley. had not been able to look Pol. in the eyes since that night. And he had not fed from Pol. since then either.
Now they were looking forward to a five hour drive, confined to a small carriage.
Pol. shuddered at the thought.
He closed the door behind him and walked up behind Ley., who stood motionless by his bed, staring off into space.
Pol. wrapped his arms around Ley.’s waist and rested his face between Ley.’s shoulderblades.
Ley. whimpered quietly, ghosting his fingers over Pol.’s arms, before he took a firm hold of Pol.’s wrists and pushed them away.
“Please, Ley., talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Pol. whispered, trying to grab hold of Ley., who moved away hurriedly.
For a moment Ley. looked up and his lips parted, but a soft knock on the door startled them both, and Ley.’s face became a hard mask.
The five hours in the cramped carriage were worse torture than Pol. had ever imagined it could be.


Bri. lounged lazily on the grand stairs of the Castle Mar., winking at the new, young maids that were dusting in the front hall.
The girls blushed and giggled, and tried their best to not stare at the youth, where he stretched out, his brown leather trousers hugging his legs, showing off every curve and dip of his thick muscles, the black muslin shirt unfastened in the front, to reveal a hairless muscled chest underneath.
A carriage arrived outside the doors that stood half open, and Bri. sat up suddenly, the two maids peering outside curiously.
The Lady Mar. came bustling out of the sitting room, two of her seven daughters trailing behind her.
Bri. listened to the squeals of the little girls as they greeted someone on the front steps, rising slowly to his feet.
As Pol. entered through the front doors, already pulling his peach coloured robes off, Bri. gave a shout and threw a bundled shirt at his head. Pol. grabbed it as he ran up the stairs, he had already gotten his arms and head through as he collided with Bri. and hugged him tightly.
“Welcome home, brother.” Bri. whispered into his neck, squeezing Pol. back, before the two ran up the rest of the stairs, and to Pol.’s rooms, where he left his robes and linen trousers on the floor, and then they disappeared out the servant stairs at the back of the castle, making their way down to the shores of the Peolin Sea.
Ley. shouted after the two to help him with the bags, but the youngsters were gone before he even finished the sentence.
With a sigh he turned to go get their luggage, but the Lady Mar. stopped him, a gentle hand on his shoulder, she said in a low voice,
“Darling. Wrai. wants to see you in his office. Right now.”
“M’Lady? Right now? I have hardly gotten off the carriage… Can it not wait until after I’ve refreshed myself?”
“He told me to get you the moment you arrived. If you run quick to the baths and wash your hands and face, I can’t see the harm. But straight to his office once you’re done. Hiram and steward can take your things to your rooms.”
Ley. sighed inwardly, but nevertheless he pulled a clean pair of trousers and a clean robe out of his duffel, then running down to the baths he washed quickly.

Ley. stopped outside the Lord’s office, taking a few measured breaths, before he knocked. He could hear raised voices on the other side, the Lord and his wife, but they did not sound like they were arguing, more like the Lady of the house was upset over something.
As Ley. knocked the voices hushed immediately, and after a few moments the door opened, the Lady Mar. exiting the office with her head down.
As Ley. prepared to enter, the Lady stopped and cupped his cheek gently, a soft smile on her face. She stood silent for a few moments, cupping his cheek like she had done so often when he was a little boy, and in mourning for his own mother, then she sighed and turned away from him.
A sense of dread settled over Ley.’s heart as he closed the door behind him, and stood still in the middle of the office, Wrai. standing by a window, looking out.

There was a heavy silence in the office, and Wrai. could feel the anxiety rising in Ley. where he stood behind him.
Slowly the Lord turned around and studied the young man closley, from his tall, muscular body, the graceful bearing and his breathtaking eyes, to the long tapering fingers, and the nervous twitch of sucking the left corner of his lower lip into his mouth, and worrying at it.
Now the boy stood, tall and devilishly handsome, with his hands behind his back and looking at the floor just infront of Wrai., proper manners all the way.
Wrai. cleared his throat loud enough to make Ley. jump, and poured himself a nice helping of brandy, before he spoke.

“How old are you now, Ley.?” Wrai. asked, toying with some trinkets on a side table to avoid looking at the cleric.
Ley. looked up, a faint surprise in his eyes, but his jaw twitched as if he was expecting something far worse.
“Twenty-eight summers now, m’Lord, with this passed Planting moon.”
“And how many years have you been under my roof, now?”
“All my life, sire, save a few weeks just after I was born.”
“No, no, I mean since your mother died, Ley..”
Ley. looked into the Lords face, a faint spasm of pain fleeting across his jaw, then looking to the floor again, Ley. answered in a lowered voice,
“Twenty summers, m’Lord, this coming Harvest season. We were taking in the lower field at the east bank when the matron brought me the news, sire.”
“Yes, yes, that’s right. Twenty years now. And I sent you to the Temples, and you decided to become a cleric. Isn’t that funny, now.”
Wrai. muttered into his chest, then drawing a deep breath, he continued,
“What Stage are you on now?”
Ley. looked down at his raven black robes with faint surprise before he looked up and answered,
“The eighth, m’Lord. You were present at my Turning. Have you forgotten?”
“No, no, I haven’t. That’s right, the eighth. So, you’re a sanctioned cleric now?”
“Yes, m’Lord.”
“And now you’ve completed your obligatory three years of service to your temple, right?”
“Yes, m’Lord.”
“And now you are in fact allowed to leave the Temple to serve somewhere else. To go to a different Temple, or to do missionary work, or something of that nature?”
“Yes, m’Lord. Although I must admit that I had not considered leaving the Temple. I would like to stay on as Pol.’s mentor, m’Lord. But you already know all of this, m’Lord.”
Ley. trembled involuntarily, as Wrai. stared back at him.
The knight was quiet for long minutes, studying something outside his window, Ley. stood quiet, waiting for some explanations to these strange questions.
After a long heavy silence, Wrai. turned around and walked up to Ley., standing uncomfortably close to the taller cleric, and spoke with such a deep malicious voice, that Ley. couldn’t help but shiver.
“I took you in against my will. I did it for my wife. She knew your mother long before I married her. And she begged me to take your mother in when she came here, with a bastard child, begging for alms or work.”
Ley. couldn’t help himself, as he retorted, anger rising in his voice,
“My mother was married! My father married her months before she came to be with child.”
Wrai. cut him off as he shouted back,
“Your father died before you were born, which makes you no better than a bastard! He left you mother with nothing, no money, only some worthless papers that said they were married!"
Ley. bit back tears, as Wrai. stared up at him, lowering his voice again to that bitter, angry hiss he used before,
“I was meant to marry your mother. Shirnin Emathran of Weeping Vale! The marriage had been agreed upon, and then she is inspected and found to be tainted! Marred! She shamed me infront of my entire court!”
“She lay with my father to get out of marrying you.” Ley. hissed, anger seething deep inside him, but his upbringing forced him to keep it in check.
Wrai. whipped around, his cheeks blotched red, his muddy brown eyes aflame.
“I brought you into my house, against my will, because my wife begged me to. She felt she owed your mother something for what happened. If it had been up to me, you would have been in the workhouses before your mother corpse was cold. I gave you a home. I raised you with my children. I sent you to the Temples to be educated and make a life for yourself. And when you decided to become a cleric I entrusted you with the education of my son.”
Ley. sighed.
So this was the meaning of this. This was what it was bearing down to.
Wrai. gasped in anger, and poured himself another generous portion of brandy, and turned to face Ley., after a few measured breaths, he asked,
“Have you lain with Pol.?”
Ley. started with shock, his eyes wide as saucers as he looked up at the knight, his mouth working open and closed as he tried to think of an answer.
After a few gasps he looked away again, there was nothing he could say to save this.
Wrai.’s voice shook as he continued,
“I’ve heard rumours about you and my son. And now you’ve confirmed them. I gave you everything, I put my utmost faith in you, and this is how you repay me.”
Ley. choked, trying to think of something, anything to answer, but his mind was utterly blank, there was no answer to give.
Wrai. paced the room for a couple of minutes, before he stopped infront of Ley. and spoke quietly, a threat lingering around the edges of his voice,
“I have been in correspondance with his Revered Holiness, the leader of your order. There is a place waiting for you in Aquelim.”
“In Aquelim, sire?”
“It’s the furthest away that I could get you. There is a ship awaiting you in Alyhandra, it will leave in ten days. I want you out of this house, and as far away from Pol. as I can get you. Anglia seems to be the limit of my reach. You can do whatever you like when you reach Aquelim. Whatever you want except return here.”
Ley. nodded, too overwhelmed to speak.
“Be greatful that I’m sending you away. If it were up to me, I would have taken you to the stable and hung you from the rafters. Remember that I am again doing this for my wife. She cares for you deeply, and it is only by her word that I am sending you away. I want you dead.”
Ley. gasped, still nodding, and tears began to slowly fall down his cheeks.
Wrai. stood there enjoying his victory for a few moments before he continued,
“You will leave tonight. Gwendir will ride with you to Alyhandra, and see you off on the ship. You can say your farewells to my wife and my children, to Bri., late tonight just before you go.”
“What about Pol., m’Lord?” Ley. hiccuped, Wrai.’s face hardened to a mask of infuriated hatred,
“You wil not breathe a word of this to him! If you tell him you are leaving he will follow you. I know my son well enough. You will not tell him a word. I will not have it! Now leave, I’m sick of the sight of you. Gwendir will be ready at midnight, you will leave then, or suffer worse for it.”
Ley. swallowed his sobs, nodding his consent. Wrai. gave him an imperious wave, and Ley. stumbled out of the office.
Lady Mar. was sitting on a chair in the hallway outside, and reached out a hand for Ley. to kiss as he came out.
Ley. obeyed, trembling all over, and looking up he asked,
“You knew he was sending me away, m’Lady?”
“Yes, Ley., it is best for us all.”
“It is best?! It is best for you and him. Have either of you stopped to think about Pol.! I’m afraid that if I leave he will only get worse.”
“He will be fine.” Lady Mar. insisted and began to walk away, when a thought struck Ley.,
“M’Lady? What of my things? My mother’s trunk and my books?”
“We sent them off yesterday. They will be waiting for you onboard in Alyhandra.” The lady nodded over her shoulder, and Ley. gaped after her.
The maid that had been sweeping the floor quietly at the end of the hall looked up at Ley., bleary eyed with a small smile on her face, but Ley. ignored her as he stumbled outside, struggling to catch his breath.
So the secret was out.