Lover's Twilight
Ursula Round 4 Part 1 One of two posts

He wanted everything that Alex had to give him. The soft kisses, the hot tongue that could drive him wild in ways he had never been driven wild before. Alex was so eager, so open. So silky hot that Fox was hard already for him. And Alex's eyes, those green, knowing eyes, were burning for him too. He knows, Fox thought to himself. He knows what he does to me.

And he loves it.
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So intent on each other, the two beauties would hardly have noticed if a flood rolled over them. Alex just knew that if he lost either Walter or Fox that he would die. Each of them made him feel so alive, not just beautiful...after all the slave dealers found him beautiful. Walter and Mulder expected things of him... that he could think, that he could be brave, and that they could rely on him. They made him want to be worthy of love. He wasn't sure if either of them really loved him or if they used him as a substitute for each other, but if he had to be content with scraps, that was acceptable.

All he knew was that Fox's lips were hot, silken, even as he slaked his thirst for them, he wanted to kiss them again and never stop.

Responding to Fox's urging, Alex curled his legs toward his chest, relaxing for the fingers that coaxed him open. He shivered beneath the touch, wanting it, wanting to feel the strange full sensation of Fox's large cock in him. His desire made him moan and push against the fingers. His eyes closed as Fox grinned down at him. He felt like a slut, but he wasn't ashamed. Fox was his Prince. It was right to give him everything...

But even if Fox had been a peasant, a slave, a no one, he admitted, he would have loved him. Perhaps even better.

A harsh grunt intruded and in a moment, Alex was bereft of the heat, the silken flesh of Prince Mulder.

Alex opened his eyes and saw a horrid face looming over him. Instinctively, his body begin to transform. The man grinned and said, "Do it, little mouse, and I'll take the prince in your place.""

Mulder? Where was the prince? Alex arched up to look and saw him crumpled in an awkward position only a short distance away. He tried to see if the chest was still rising.

"The spoiled brat's alive," the man who pinned Alex said.

Now, that Alex's fears for Mulder were allied, he wanted to hold his breath. The man reeked of blood, feces, sweat, and old food. His teeth were jagged black fangs. His hair was a tangled mass almost indistinguishable from the bloody wolf pelt that rested upon his shoulders.

Alex gasped, "What are you going to do with him?"

"Take him back where he belongs. To the bishop. A milksop like that has no place out here. You on the other hand are wiry except in the place where a man wants a little fat on his pretty boy."

Callused hands stroked Alex's ass to illustrate what he meant. "Now, what is it to be? Will you satisfy me without a lot of squealing and fighting, mind ye, or shall I have the prince? I've never had me a genuine prince..."

Nodding, Alex fell back. He prayed that Walter would come in time to save him and yet, looking at the bloody wolf pelts hanging from the man's evil eyed mule, he half-hoped that Walter was far away. This man knew about killing wolves.

No finesse for this man, he opened his breeches, releasing a foul odor like spoiled cheese. His cock was not as large as Walter's was or as Fox's was, Alex realized. It should not be hard to take it. After all, he was no virgin.

The man's strong hands pried apart Alex's cheeks as if he meant to rip him in half. At the first probe, Alex set his teeth. He knew he should relax, but he couldn't. The man leaned forward as if to kiss him, but instead bit him hard on his nipple. Alex screamed in fear and pain. It felt as if the man meant to bite off the sensitive bit of flesh. Laughing the man released his teeth. There was blood dribbling from his chin.

"I like the taste of you, little pig. Maybe, I'll put you in a stew when I've worn you out," Eyes crossing with concentration, the man shoved inside Alex's rebelling flesh.

Despite having been prepared by Fox, Alex was tight; his orifice drawn closed against the unwelcome intrusion into his flesh. He felt as if he was drowning in ordure, in the man's stench and with his wieght crushing him. All he could think about was turning into a rat. He could leave this and get away in a second. Yet if he did, he didn't doubt that the man would rape Fox and that was an unbearable alternative.

A high pitched scream erupted from Alex's lips as the wolf hunter made his violent thrusts. The ugly face contorted as he came. His body settled atop Alex's for a few moments as he panted.

A mouth with rotten breath crushed his. Alex turned his face away, but the man slapped him and forced his mouth to open. A tongue like a raw piece of liver shoved in his mouth choked him. Alex could feel the stiff badly tanned hides against his tender flesh. The man's belt cut into him and his grasping hands left bruises everywhere. Alex wanted to die. Only the need to protect Fox kept his crushed spirit from fleeing his body.

It what seemed like only moments; the man was pounding into him again. This time the pain and misery yielded to nature's ministry and he fainted.

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An aching head was the first thing that Mulder knew. One moment he had been about to broach his delicious, if common lover, and the next he was waking here naked and with someone hammering in his ears. He could hear someone keening and he wished that they would shut up. Prying open his bleary eyes, Mulder saw what looked for a moment like Walter in wolf form, hunching over a screaming Alex.

A second glance told him that it was hardly the wolf, which had no interest in mates, human or otherwise. It was a huge man, dressed in wolf pelts and he was raping Alex. As his sweet and sexually naïve lover went silent, Mulder forced his dizzy body toward his discarded sword. He damn well knew how to use that. Walter of Navarre was not inclined to go easy on a student, not even one that was a prince and he was twice as hard on Fox after they fell in love. He wanted Fox to be able to defend himself.

Just as his hand connected with the sword, a boot kicked it away. The wolf-killer brayed laughter and clouted him as he pulled Fox to his feet by the hair. "I'd have you too if the bishop hadn't forbidden it. Instead, you can watch me as I rape you green eyed slave again. Later you can enjoy the sight of me skinning your dear wolf-lover alive. Tell me, pretty prince, do you let the wolf mount you? Does he lock like a dog? Do you like that?"

"You sick bastard..." Mulder spat, "it's not like that at all. Walter would never have me when he is a wolf. He has not interest in such things in wolf form."

A slap stopped his defiance and the man threw him to the ground. As dirty as Fox had learned to fight since leaving his gilded cage, it was useless. The wolf-hunter fought twice as dirty. Soon, Mulder was stretched out on the cold ground, naked and cold. Stakes and straps of hides tethered his wrists and ankles. The wolf-hunter grinned and went back to rummaging through their packs.

A coughing moan told Fox that Alex was waking. As soon as Alex was alert, the man dragged him toward the fire and said, "Make yourself useful. Cook me some soup out of those dried meat and vegetables. I'll want some campfire bread also. Not too hard either. My teeth are bad. Don't know how come you and the prince have such white ones."

"All it takes is a twig of birch or willow, sir, you brush with the splayed ends and your teeth don't rot," Alex said, sounding cowed.

"Too much trouble," the wolf-hunter answered. "Cook my dinner."

"May I dress?" Alex asked.

"No, you look pretty, shivering like that. I'll warm you after dinner," the wolf-hunter said, following up with a deep guttural laugh.

"Well, at least let me cover the prince with some blankets. The bishop's not a man for you to cross. He'll punish you if anything happens to the prince. The man's royalty you know. Not like us common folk. Used to feather duvets and silk, he is." Alex said. "A man like me can endure almost anything, but Fox is an aristocrat, puny." Alex's voice took on a purring tone and he ran a hand over the wolf-hunter's arm. He said, "He's no stallion like yourself. Why before you took me, I might as well have been a virgin. You made me faint with the force of your fucking, but I'll do better. Much, much better. I know just how to make you feel good."

The wolf-hunter's arm snapped out and pushed Alex back from him, sprawling him on his ass. He laughed again and said, "Don't try your lies on me, bucko. I'm no fool. But go ahead and cover the prince up. No use risking the bishop's wrath. I hear he has the devil in his pocket."

Mulder whispered, "Are you all right?" to Alex as his lover stiffly walked over with blankets.

"Don't be whispering," the hunter warned, fletching some wicked looking arrows. Each gleaming head bore a barb toward the end. They were made to maximize the damage. His face with the dark eyes beneath the heavy brows looked like that of a beast. He was the ugliest man that Fox had ever seen. He couldn't bear to think of the man touching Alex again or worse of what would happen if they Walter came back to check on them.

Shivering, Fox looked at the sky. It was a bit lighter. Surely, dawn must be near. If Walter just stayed away a bit longer, Mulder would become a falcon and the bonds would no longer hold him. Alex could transform into a rat after that and warn Walter.

Alex tucked one of the blankets under Fox and draped the other on top. One corner of the blanket fell over his hand and Fox felt a cool touch of bone in his hand. He slid his fingers along the object and realized it was a knife, one of the small ones that Alex wore up his sleeves usually. Understanding he gripped it and said, "You going to be okay?"

Alex shrugged and said, "I guess it was bound to happen to me. At least, it wasn't my first time."

Green eyes looked deep into Fox's and Alex said, "It's a good thing he'll keep busy with me, Prince."

Understanding, Fox nodded and watched as Alex limped away. The marks of the assault were already darkening the fair skin; they seemed profane against the beauty of Alex's body. Fox grunted as the knife slipped, but he didn't mind a little blood. He was a warrior, scion of a race of soldier-kings. He was not born for some bishop's harem but to battle beside men like Walter of Navarre and Alex, former thief, mountebank, and slave, but now his brave companion.

Fox worked steadily, ignoring the pain as the knife slipped more than once and nicked him. He could feel the strand yielding. The hunter had his back against a stunted tree as his troll like face remained intent on the distance. His bow and arrows stood ready; he bristled with his other weapons.

The small stew pot bubbled and the soup smelled good. Fox had forgotten that he had not eaten before decided to make love to Alex. Perhaps he had been unsuccessful at hunting and had gone hungry in his bird form as well. The hunter said, "Bring me some of that."

Shivering miserably, Alex walked to the fire and filled a bowl. Mulder moaned as he saw the blood streaking from Alex's ass. He would make the wolf hunter pay for that. The last strands of the hide rope parted and Mulder used the cover of Alex's movements to transfer the knife to his other hand.

The hunter ate like a big, slurping down two bowls before burping loudly, wiping his grizzled face on his filthy sleeve and reaching for Alex. He pulled his toy across his lap and kissed him, his hand busily roving over the hard muscular body.

The wolf-killer still looked up, but he was increasing preoccupied with Alex's body. At last, his lust defeated his wariness and he made Alex turn. He apparently thought if he faced the clearing that he could still react in time to grab his bow and arrows. Fox thought he was a fool.

Alex's head hung low and he uttered low despairing moans as the hunter brutalized him. The second wrist was easier to free. Mulder cautiously reached and got one ankle free. He was working on the other when a roar came from the bushes.

No wonder the hunter had been so confident! Mulder could see the wolf-form of his lover dangling from a tree. He was snapping at the air, twisting vainly in an attempt to free himself. The hunter pushed away from Alex, drawing a scream of pain at his abrupt withdrawal. He grabbed his bow and notched an arrow with one smooth moment.

As Mulder threw aside the blankets and sprang to his feet, Alex tackled the man, jarring his aim.

"You'll pay for that," the wolf hunter snarled.

Dawn's first light was dancing over the horizon as Mulder dashed for his sword. A moment's glance told him there was no time. A second arrow was already in place. There was only one thing to do and with a shout, Mulder flung himself into the path. He felt himself changing as he did so. He was half bird, half man when the arrow hit and then...there was nothing.

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Scrambling to his feet, Alex only knew he must do something quickly. He grabbed the first thing that came to hand, a rock, and pounded it into the wolf hunter's head. As soon as he was sure that the man was not moving, he ran, grabbed up a knife and went to free what was now a cursing Walter of Navarre. He took just a moment to let the man down before running to grab up the hawk. He was afraid it was dead, but it stirred, proud eyes glaring at him. The arrow pierced one wing, not in a vital spot, but he feared it would be worse to remove it. This needed skill.

Taking the hawk from Alex, Walter snarled, "How could you have let this happen?"

A moment later, the stern features softened and Walter said, "I'm sorry. It wasn't your fault."

Reaching toward Alex, the man appeared to want to comfort him. With a shudder, Alex backed away and said, "Don't touch me again. No one ever touches me again. Not for as long as I live."

"He raped you? What about..." Walter asked.

"He didn't touch your prince. I made sure of that," Alex raged. A sob drew from his chest and he realized he still had the knife. He knew what he wanted... to cut the flesh that had wounded him. He'd castrate the wolf hunter!

Looking back, Alex screamed a curse. The man was gone, vanished. Even his mule, which had never been tethered, had escaped from the camp. Alex said, "He got away. The fucker got away. I have to go after him."

"No, we'll take Fox to ...a place not far from here. An almost deserted monastery where a man I know does penance. He'll be able to help Fox," Walter said.

While Alex stiffly and sorely found his clothing, Walter's huge hands cleverly wound clean linen around the arrow after clipping off most of the shaft. Alex tried to wipe the smell of the wolf hunter from his body with a wet rag, but he didn't think he would ever be clean again. Perhaps if he could bathe in the man's blood, he would be able to forget. Even so, Alex doubted that he ever would allow himself to be touched by another man. His soul felt as raw and aching as his body.

His first aid accomplished, Walter packed up the camp hurriedly. He said, "You ride, Alex, and hold Fox. I'll lead."

Flinching away from the formerly welcome touch of his lover, all Alex could do was to worry about Fox and imagine his revenge on the wolf hunter. The bird was panting; beak stretched widely, the red lining showing from the gaping opening. Holding the bird immobile, Alex winced and moved around on the saddle. He was too battered to walk, but riding wasn't comfortable. He wondered how long it would take before he stopped burning inside.

Walter ran as if he was as wolf like as his night form was. He seemed tireless and was swift. Goliath seemed to know something was wrong and he glided. It still jarred Alex's aching flesh. He just wanted to huddle beneath warm blankets someplace safe. He longed for the safety of Pandemonium's wagon and to be rocked by Samson's massive arms. He sniffed and was ashamed of it.

Looking up, Walter said, "I know you've had a rough time of it, Alex. In time..."

"I hate people," Alex said. "I wish I was big and hideous so no one ever desired me."

"Oh, Alex, beauty is a gift," Walter said.

"Yes? What good has it done Fox or me? If he were plain, would the Bishop have desired him? No, the man would have just taken the kingdom and been glad of it, instead of sending demons to chase him down. If I had been ugly, maybe I would have just lived an ordinary life. It wouldn't have been a bad thing to be just a farm worker or something like that," Alex said.

"I think you would have been restless, my love," Walter said.

"You don't love me," Alex said, "You only love Fox. I figured it all out. Because you can't be together, you use me. As soon as your curse is lifted, it's good-bye, Alex. Well, you can forget it. I'm not ever going to have sex again. There must be someplace where I can be safe."

"Alex, I think both Fox and I have grown to love you for yourself. I would be an ogre to want anything from you before you have healed body and soul, but I wish you would at least believe I cared. If it had been me, I would have gladly given myself to spare both of you. What you did was noble, Alex. If I had not loved you before, I would have loved you then. You are a good brave man."

That helped a little, but Alex still didn't want anyone to touch him. He felt so sullied. He wanted a hot bath and to scrub his skin, wash as far inside him as he could reach to get the spunk of that man off him. He shuddered, fancying that he could still smell the man.

Wary eyes studied the passing scenery. It seemed that the wolf hunter might be anywhere. However, nothing happened. Maybe the man was dead someplace. Alex had hit him on the head after all. Sometimes, people with brain injuries got up and walked around then just keeled over and died.

Reading his mind, Walter's deep voice said, "He might be dead, but if he's not, I'll find him. Never fear."

"Okay," Alex said. He swayed, weary and in pain. The falcon stirred in his hands, uttering a creeling sound. "Oh, my poor Prince, I hope you know you are safe and that we are going to help you. You were so brave, Fox."

"Up ahead," Walter said, "See that crooked tower? That's where Deep Throat lives."

"Deep Throat is an odd name," Alex remarked.

"He belongs to an order that vows to give up all of their old identity. They take odd names that set them apart and don't mate or marry. It's a strange monastic bunch. Too bad that they did not give up wine as well. That was his downfall. Deep Throat was Mulder's most trusted advisor and his confessor, but when Mulder confessed to him that he was in love with me and that we wished to marry...well, Deep Throat told the bishop," Walter explained.

"He came to us to warn us and was wounded when they took us, but his fellow monks carried him here and healed him. His penance is to be alone in that tower, rendering help and medical care to all who need him."

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The man, who came to the gate, looked old and furtive to Alex. He wondered if he still drank too much? Should he be trusted with Fox?

The man reached for the falcon and said, "Is this the Prince?"

"Yes, what do you think? It's day therefore I am a man and he is a falcon. This is your fault, Deep Throat. In a few more hours, we would have been away," Walter spat. He said, "You take care of Fox. I have to go look for the man who did this to the Prince. Take care of Alex as well. He has been abused and is in pain."

Before Alex could protest, he was set on his feet. Walter brushed his hair back from his forehead and said, "I do love you, Alex, and I know Fox does as well."

The kiss was light, but it still panicked Alex. He shied away, hating himself for the way he felt. He knew it was not Walter's fault, but he no longer cared to be touched. He wished he could go to live on a desert island and never see another soul again!

The monk asked, "Is there anything I can do for you?" as he took the suffering hawk inside the ruins to tend to it.

"I want a bath. Is there a place to heat water?" Alex asked.

"No, need, I was just about to perform my ablutions. A nice hot bath is prepared. Go on. A hot bath and a tisane to make you forget your woes. You'll find, young man, that things are never as absolute as you think they are."

"And you have been raped how many times?" Alex asked baldly.

"Er, never, but..." Deep Throat said.

"Then you can't understand how I feel," Alex said. "Where's the bath?"

"Right through the door. Do you need stitches? Are you bleeding inside?" the monk asked.

"No, it stopped. I just need a bath. That's all," Alex said.

The bath was exactly as promised. Deep Throat brought him some clean clothing, rich things of green and black that Alex feared would make men look at him with even greater desire, but the monk said that was all he had.

The falcon rested in a box lined with silk. It was no longer panting as badly and its head stirred when Alex touched it. He wished the dark would come soon. It would be easier to tend the Prince in human form and besides, Alex longed to see the Prince again.

When darkness fell, Alex watched the Prince transform. He rested uneasily, a fever bedewing his noble forehead and causing his eyes to glitter. He kept calling for Walter of Navarre and a wolf answered from the wilds outside the tower. Alex sponged off the sweat and pleaded with the Prince to drink the honeyed herb waters that the monk prepared. He knew it wasn't safe to stay here, but the prince was too weak to travel.

It was the next day toward sunset when riders clattered toward them. The Wolf Killer led them and Alex knew great fear. However he would not abandon the Prince nor betray him in any way. He urged Fox higher and higher up the tower, not sure what he meant to do. Now, he prayed harder for the sunset than he had prayed for the dawn.

Fox gasped as he looked at the men below and saw the Wolf-Killer. He said, "Look, he wears a fresh pelt! He's killed our lover! Walter, Walter, oh, Alex, let us fall and join him."

"No, he would want you to live," Alex said. "Come,"

Now guards were clattering after them. Stones crumpled beneath them and Alex found the Prince dangling from his one hand. He would not fail. He must not fail although it felt as if his left arm was being wrenched from the socket. Fox was slipping despite his efforts and now, as sweat made their grip impossible, he fell.

Alex's cry changed from dismay to triumph as the hawk flew away, Fox's robe falling empty to the earth. He smiled defiantly at the guardsman who demanded to know what had happened. "He flew away," Alex said.

Growling, the Wolf Killer dragged him from the castle. Deep Throat said, "Alex, Alex, you must tell them. The curse can be broken if they see each other when it is neither day nor night. They must stand in a night without a day... and a day without a night."

The monk was mad.

As the Wolf Killer dragged Alex onto his mule, whispering foully in his ears of what he would do, the hawk came from the sky and clawed at his eyes. Alex's knife went to the man's throat and cut it clean across. His heart rejoiced to see the fear and surprise in his eyes.

The guards recovered from their shock and made to capture Alex, but now Walter came galloping. He lived. He screamed, "For Navarre! For Honor!"

His fierce attack took the guards by surprise and he spitted two of them. Meanwhile, Deep Throat muttered, "God forgive me," and broke a guard's skull with a stave.

Alex also accounted for one and even Goliath, the stallion trampled one poor fellow, who fell beneath his hooves.

Panting, Alex felt sick from all the stench and death. He asked, "What now, my lord?"

"You can get me back into the church? The bishop will be celebrating mass for it's the feast day of the patron saint of the city. I will kill him and end this."

"Wait, Walter, you must hear me," the monk babbled.

"I have no reason to listen to you. I will end the curse by ending the life that cast it. I have already avoided my honorable obligation too long. Come along, Alex. You must help me now. For love and honor."

"For love and honor," Alex murmured in wonder. He forgot everything but those magic words and went with Walter of Navarre.

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Next part to Cerulean Blue. Almost to the end now!