DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of 100% FICTION and contains descriptions of explicit sexual acts between 2 consenting teenage boys. This story is based 100% off of my IMAGINATION and does NOT reflect the views of the celebrities mentioned. If this type of content offends you or if it is illegal for you to read this type of material, please don't.
What Happened to the Green Fairies? By Danimpa
Chapter 35
Earldom of Cornwall, England June, 1398
I sat up in bed quickly, gasping, feeling around me for Brendon.
He wasn't there.
Tears started dripping down my cheeks, desperation tearing through me. "Brendon!" I cried, my good arm still reaching for something that wasn't there.
The door suddenly opened and there he stood, packed bundle of clothes and food in his hand, dressed and ready to do.
I bit my lip, looking up at him. "I'm coming with you," I finally stated.
Even in the darkness of the room I could see him raise an eyebrow. "Ryan... What about your loyalty to your family?"
I shrugged. "Sometimes you owe more loyalty to the heart than the blood that runs through it," I muttered, pushing myself off the bed.
"What about her?" There was a snarl to his voice as he said it, a deep loathing that I shared.
"I've finally realised that I cannot give her vows and promises that are rightfully yours," I stated.
"How do you expect me to take care of you?" he asked on.
"I don't," I answered. "You sound like you don't want me to come."
"I don't want to take you away from your privileges only to realise that I'm not strong enough to keep you alive," he muttered, voice soft and honest.
"I won't survive without you," I insisted.
He mulled it over for a moment, then sighed. "Get dressed."
I walked into the dressing room and did as he'd asked, digging up some of my valuables as well and putting them in another bundle along with spare clothes. Then I grabbed hold of his hand, smiling at the light squeeze he gave mine.
"I love you," he whispered.
I smiled widely and leaned in to press a kiss against his lips. "I love you too."
We were riding north, had ridden on our stolen horses all night.
The sun was rising now in the east and we'd left Cornwall behind.
We had decided to set our noses for Scotland where our looks and names fit in a bit better, where nobody would recognise me as George the Younger of Cornwall and where there would be no questioning as long as we appeared to hate the English.
I was teaching him Gaelic as we went, once again appreciating what a quick learner he was.
At the moment, though, we had decided to get off the horses for a bit and get something to eat.
The riding was making us both hungry and the thought of starting a new life with him had taken away my hesitation to eat.
We tied the horses to a tree in the small forest we were riding through and got out a lump of bread and some cheese.
Brendon had decided to sit with his back against the trunk of a tree, teeth already closing over his food when he patted the space between his legs.
I walked over and sat down, letting my head rest back against his shoulder while I ate what little my stomach would accept.
The hand he wasn't holding food in was absentmindedly drawing random patterns on my stomach and the whole scene was so peaceful and content that I just closed my eyes, leaning back against him entirely while I handed him the rest of my bread.
I must've dozed off a bit, because next thing I knew he was done eating and his lips were against my ear.
"I love you," he whispered again, kissing my ear and moving on to suck the lobe into his mouth, nibbling slightly.
I let out a soft groan, my hand wandering down to his thigh to grab on and started softly stroking, gradually moving my hand higher.
His own hands were running up and down my chest, rubbing and caressing alternately before he suddenly pulled my doublet off and started working on the buttons of my shirt, fingers flicking across my chest every so often. Pushing the material off, he bent down a bit to kiss my shoulder, his fingers moving to trace the old scar that was half-visible next to the bandage on my shoulder.
Then he moved down to undo the strings of my breeches, untying my sword belt in the process. After that he pushed me off him a bit and I got to my feet, kicking off my boots and working the breeches the rest of the way off as well.
When I turned back to face him, he'd already dealt with his own clothes, once again sparing my shoulder, and sat down once more, back still against the tree.
"Come here," he muttered.
I smiled, walked back over and let his hands on my hips pull me down onto him, my head lolling back onto his shoulder while I gradually got the filled feeling back.
"You're mine," he suddenly whispered into my ear, finally putting claims on what he'd already owned for many long months.
"Through and through," I answered, shuddering at the feeling of his hot breath misting over my ear while contentment roared through me. I was there with him, I was his. And whether he'd ever say it out loud or not, he was mine as well.
His hands on my hips tightened their grip and he pushed me most of the way off with the assistance of my legs before pulling me back down sharply, thrusting his hips up to enhance the force with which he rammed hard into that spot in me.
I moaned out, loudly, hand going behind my head to fist in his hair, pulling. Just to have something to hang on to.
He kissed the back of my neck, pushing me up and pulling me back down again, sending another clean wave of pleasure through me.
I turned my head, faced him and plunged my lips against his, weaved my tongue into his mouth to push and probe and explore while his hands and my legs set up the pace, quick and deep and nearly unbearably intense. Colours were twirling behind my closed lids and strings of sounds that I'd never known I could emit were streaming from my throat, pouring out of my mouth.
My toes were curling already, the sound of Brendon's breathing nearly right against my mouth making it all the more severe, his harsh pushing and pulling sending me towards the edge quicker than ever before.
And he took me away.
It felt like the world coming to an end, the earth opening up to swallow me whole and I almost felt as if I was getting less palpable, as if I was disappearing.
"Ryan?" Brendon asked, scared hint to his voice.
I couldn't get anything coherent out, could barely breathe for a moment. My stomach swirled, my muscles clenched, my toes cramped and as I let go and felt him do the same I was suddenly reduced to oblivion, boundaries open as I fell into the other place, screaming for Brendon and grasping around for him desperately.
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Las Vegas, Nevada, USA January, 2010
/Ryan's POV/
I opened my eyes, looking around myself in confusion.
Where was Brendon?
Where was I?
My sight fell to the bottle on the floor and suddenly it all came rushing back.
Absinth, being talked into giving it a try, all of us passing out in the room.
I was aware of an extra weight on my shoulder and looked over there.
Jacqueline.
Suddenly I wasn't at all comfortable having her there and I gently pushed her head off me, looking around the living room of Brent's apartment.
Brendon and Audrey were in the loveseat across from us, wrapped up in each other.
For some reason I suddenly couldn't stand the sight of that.
I got off the couch, suddenly noticing how much of a mess my boxers were as I fought the pounding headache and went to the bathroom to get rid of them.
I'd heard a lot about absinth, heard that it was supposed to make you hallucinate; see green fairies. Never heard a thing about fucked-up, far-fetched wet dreams about one's best friend, though.
What the hell happened to the green fairies?
I got my pants off, boxers following and going straight to the trash before I pulled the jeans back on, deciding on commando. In my mind that was suddenly what I was used to anyway.
I went back into the living room, fighting dizziness as I observed the place again.
Brendon was stirring, eyes slowly fluttering open as he let out a groan and gently disentangled himself from Audrey. "Dude, I had the fucking weirdest dream ever," he exclaimed once his eyes met mine.
I raised an eyebrow.
Suddenly he blushed, don't know why. "Trust me, you don't want to hear about it," he replied.
I shrugged.
"Just, shit! Seriously, the next time William drops by and says he comes bearing alcohol, I say we don't let him in. And I don't care if he's come all the way from Chicago or China or where the hell ever. He's not coming in."
I nodded slowly. "My words exactly."
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Fact sheet -------------
Absinth: Facts: The alcoholic beverage, also known as 'La Fée Verte', in English 'The Green Fairy', has a strong hallucinogenic as well as aphrodisiac effect, causing dreams that may seem real. For this reason exactly, it is often used as a creativity enhancer amongst writers and artists. The nickname originates from the fact that 'seeing' green fairies while under the influence has been rumoured to be a common occurrence.
Catullus: Facts: (Caius Valerius Catullus) Roman poet, born approximately 84 B.C., died approximately 34 B.C. Has been hated by conservative forces from his time up to now for his blunt, often very graphic work, but has also been celebrated as one of the greatest poets in time. Was very open and proud of his bisexuality.
Charles II, duke of Upper Lorraine: Facts: Charles II was a prominent French devout Catholic, who at all times thought the Crusades were more important than the ongoing war between England and France. Later on he entered politics and became one of the most important Frenchmen of his time. Ages, dates, references etc are in the story kept as close to the truth as in any way possible. His mentioned wife, mistress and sons are all historical people, once again with ages and roles as intact as I could make them. *** He was only married once, and his first wife in the story was fictional so as to help me place Jacqueline in the family.
Clothes: Facts: Breeches were the practical type trousers, tight-fitting and solid; good for riding and moving about and used in varying quality by nearly every layer of the society along with rather loose shirts that reached almost mid-thigh as well as, often woolen, doublets. Underwear had yet to be invented. For the nobles' finer clothes, there were finer versions of the standard breeches, but they were worn with wide-sleeved, finely decorated houppelandes, not to mention the trademark 'hats'.
Cornwall: Facts: Located in South West England, Cornwall is a peninsula bounded seaward by the English Channel and the Atlantic Ocean and landward by Devon. Originally an earldom, it was in the fourteenth century made a duchy under the English crown after the last line of earls died out as the sole heir died at a young age, leaving no son. *** The family of the earl, as depicted in the fic, (hopefully) bears no resemblance to any actual Cornish noble family. Also, years have been changed to fit with the story. At the time 'Fairies' has been set to take place, the line had in fact already died out and Cornwall had become a duchy about fifty years earlier.
John Montague, earl of Salisbury: Facts: Approximately 1350-1400. Is by many regarded to have been the author of the first ballads of Robin Hood. He was one of Richard II's closest friends, and had a strong interest in poetry, literature and history and was a contemporary of Chaucer, Edward III as well as Richard II, often appearing in the King's Court. He was knighted in France, made a commander in Ireland under Richard II [1394-5] and supported the Lollards. His eldest son, the only one history tells us of, was Thomas Montague, who inherited the realm and was an active fighter in the 100 Year War. *** All Thomas' siblings are fictional. I've also changed his year of birth a bit to fit with the story.
Ross (earldom of...): Facts: Lands: Ross-shire, Ayrshire and Renfrewshire. The name Ross derives from the ancient Celtic word "Ros", meaning "a promontory", in this case the lands of Easter Ross. The clan is known to Highlanders as Clann Aindreas - the sons of Andrew. The traditional progenitor of the clan was Fearchar Mac an t Sagairt which is translated as "son of the priest". Fearchar was created Earl of Ross in 1234, for services to Alexander II. *** Albeit Celtic, Ryan was not a commonly used name by the nobles in Ross. Also, a little date-mixing, since the earldom was lost to the English in 1372 when the earl died with no sons and his daughter didn't manage to hold it.
The 100 Year War: Facts: (1337--1453) Intermittent armed conflict between England and France over territorial rights and the issue of succession to the French throne.
Yule: Facts: Pre-Christmas pagan holiday, celebrating winter solstice and the Norse god of fertility, Jul (=Yule). Obviously, the tradition comes from Scandinavia from where it spread to the rest of Europe. On the Twelve Days, now the Twelve Days of Christmas, a Yule log, a large tree, was burnt in the hearths as a sacrifice to Jul, as was virginities. Many of our modern 'Christmas' traditions have originated from Yule (in Scandinavia the same word for the holiday is even still used), such as decorations, evergreens, gifts (sacrifices), the date and much more.
The end...
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