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Avian Translation, Woo Blues

‘All right, then in that case, I will woo you later. You have my word, Clive. I will whisper the sweetest most irresistibly romantic words into your ear, and slot myself between your shy trembling thighs before I mount you tenderly.’

Avian Translation, Tail of Love and Sex, Chapter 3

…………………………………….

Joshua leaned over the rail around the edge of the Haven, laid out magnificently before him the lake water stretched out glimmering with multi-coloured light, reflecting seemingly endlessly into the uncertain distance, as the blazing sun began its final weary dip to the horizon.

He was almost alone up here, only one or two people venturing up after evening meal instead of patronising the Tub and Crown. He let his wings playfully ride the breeze, practising their responses to the directional hints along the sensitive nerves in his feather’s roots, as tiny eddies and updrafts caught them. Flying was not only liberating… it was one of the unique advantages he bore, in this unpredictable world that at any moment, could become a terrible threat. He needed to perfect it, needed his movement be sure and instinctual, needed his wings to become stronger. It was why he trained with Mid, one of the lightest adults at the Hideaway (and unsurprisingly by her demand also), to build himself up so that eventually he would be powerful enough to soar great distances, and… because he really wanted take Clive flying. Part of that desire, was of course that he wanted to be capable of diving in and scooping Clive away from peril if it was necessary, they would never loose that sharp, battle wrought edge, but… if they allowed it… perhaps it could be fun too.

Speaking of Clive… The insanely frustrating reason for his presence up in the Haven in the first place! He returned his focus to his contemplation of the words he had uttered, somewhat in mirthful jest, in response to Clive’s aghast reaction at his blunt request for sex over a week ago.

Bowed lips curled and he chuckled at the memory, the look on his brother’s face… it was still so funny. Who could believe his big strong serious brother to be a closet romantic. His carnal prowess certainly did not suggest that Clive had refused the suit of random conquests up and down the continent. Surely woo, had not been a requirement of all those encounters.

But now, well… irritatingly… it seemed he had a promise to honour. A few day ago, when he had attempted for the first time, to bear his brother down and slide between promising thighs, Clive had nimbly shuffled back and taunted, “Oh I think not, I seem to remember, that you gave your word, I believe it was the ‘sweetest most irresistibly romantic words whispered in my ear.’ ” And to his scandalised disbelief his brother had since held his lush arse ransom until he delivered… He had not even managed to steal a measly grope, without Clive dancing away tutting chidingly at him.

He was sure this was some dastardly cruel revenge for his numerous teases of ‘Delicacy’ during and since their, um… consummation. Like himself, Clive had discerned one of his rare and largely unimportant failings, and also like him, his brother was laughingly playing this out to its pinnacle, and relishing every moment. The situation was truly beginning to feel as if verging on heresy!!

He grimaced and dropped his head into his hands. What had he been thinking, he was no Romantic… He looked people in the eye and asked… sometimes demanded… for what he wanted. He did not fawn or wax poetic flattery… make sultry eyes and lick his lips maybe yes, he needed to give his would be partner some incentive, but not… Woo!

Maybe this awkward situation was all because his history of liaisons had been intentionally brief, his life since Phoenix Gate too nomadic… too burdened with duty, to consider a relationship involving feelings. Then, after he had discovered his brother still lived, even those encounters had become mercenary, to the point coin had sometimes exchanged hands in order to ensure that sex, though not lacking passion, was simple and impersonal. So, unhindered he could continue his search for Ultima, for Clive. He did not regret his decisions, at nearly thirty years of age, after more than a year reunited, what he had now with his brother eclipsed any paltry offerings he may have settled for under the deluding guise of love in the past.

Yet that, did not help him in the least right now!

This was infuriating! And in desperation to decipher this riddle called …Romance… he had suspiciously hidden like a stalker and covertly listened to Asta spout her devoted love proclamations in the hopes of hearing something breeches tighteningly… sorry wrong expression, heart poundingly Romantic. But he had quickly come to the realisation that it was all about him, and that was just too strange and disturbing to eavesdrop on. Then people had begun to notice him hanging around Asta and he certainly did not want them getting the wrong idea, and he absolutely did not want his lingering seemingly love sick presence becoming known to Asta. So, with his tail crunched up narrowly almost between his legs in embarrassment, that unlikely experiment had died a swift death and he had made a speedy getaway.

Which left him in a conundrum, he could not ask how to be Romantic, his sources would want to know why. And great screaming founder, he was not a Romantic! How was one supposed to simply know what special words to say.

I Love You… he had already whispered that plenty, and though they garnered a most spectacular response, it was obvious these were not the words Clive sought.

I want you… he had probably uttered these words as many times as ‘I love you’ in the last few weeks. So also, not the correct words.

I need you… … He thought for a moment, brow creased. To an extent, were these words not the same as ‘I want you.’ He tapped the railing thoughtfully. All right put these ones in the maybe list, for now.

There was a short stronger gust of wind and his still swerving wings flew out wide to catch it, though the flight feathers remained spread open so that the airy swirl could filter through and not knock him off his feet.

His shoulders rolled delighted along with the unconscious actions of his wings and his meandering mind idly thought… You make me feel, like I’m flying brother… He blushed brightly, what fucking trite. Absolutely not.

He sighed and eyed the railing and the dwindling light, then lightly sprung up and hopped over the wooden bar. Wings flung wide and beat the first purposeful flap.

Flying truly was freedom.

………………………………………..

He returned hours later. It was late, Clive… was probably worried, which meant he was likely in trouble. He had spied the guiding light from his brother’s inexplicably returned Blessing, on the balcony of their chambers numerous times over the passing evening and well into the night and had ignored it. Firstly because he wanted to and sometimes quite simply, he balked at Clive’s chronic overprotective big brotherish-ness. Gods he was nearly thirty! He could go out for a walk, erm… flight… unescorted if he so chose to!

And secondly because Clive was being quite irresponsible in creating that ball of flame. In order to keep its vulnerable residents safe, the Hideaway had many rules. One of which was lights go out with the sun. Not all of them of course but a lit-up secret base in the middle of a blight afflicted lake could quite give the game away that it was inhabited. Lights were minimal and kept away from outward hatches and doors, and none were to be visible from the outside.

There were two exceptions to the rule, Tarja and Clive, and his brother was being so very negligent to abuse his privileges so, just for the chance at a glimpse of him, so he was not about to re-enforce the undesirable behaviour by obediently returning to heel. It really was not necessary, he had not gone far, had not done anything dangerous, had not gone near fiends or bandits or god forbid, normal people, safely concealed from all eyes in the encompassing darkness. He had even deigned to regularly crow out to his brother all evening, so Clive knew he was fine! But, it had been hours of aimless contemplative wind racing and his wings ached, and his mouth was dry, it was really time to return.

Landing lightly on the pier, tired wings readily folded up in rest but feathers still whispered in the breeze, he stamped the feeling back into his feet and made his way casually up to the main deck, slowly passing the Ale Hall… the deserted Ale Hall. He stopped abruptly cocking his head thoughtfully and back tracked to the bar. Then feeling slightly criminal, wandered in and nervously looked around, an idea tentatively manifesting in his head.

Maybe… maybe words… were not the only way he could show his brother he could be Romantic.

.…………………………………..

The next day his plan was in place. It was silly, slightly desperate, hopefully romantic, and supremely risky, but yet, in place. Stage one, recruiting Torgal, who he had found up in the Haven that morning, and so sitting down next to him and sinking a hand into the thick ruff, he had stealthily grumbled, “I have a task for you boy, would you help me?” He had received the expected head tilt and wagging tail, and could not help comparing him to Clive wearing his bewildered look, it was hilarious.

Now all he had to do was wait…

…………………………….

Clive had fallen asleep some hours ago and he had dozed alongside him, fighting off a deeper sleep while he waited. As the moon rose past its zenith and began its slow descent it was time, but with his brother’s arm heavily slung over his waist, he would have to move carefully. Clive was a seasoned soldier, he could both fall into deep sleep and wake up swinging, at the drop of a pin. Clive grumbled at his slow movements and he coo’d gently singing him back to sleep as each limb raised off the bed rolling his brother around a little on the mattress. Then as he finally stood free next to the bed, he breathed a heavy sigh and tightly restrained his noisy eagerly shimmering feathers. Then a giddy smile bloomed and as quickly as he dared ran for their door, praying for a quiet creak as he opened it.

Now for stage two, as he had hoped the Ale Hall was once again deserted. He glanced around quickly then began dragging stools and positioning them along the walls before bracing his shoulders and heaving at fucking heavy solid wood tables, bearing them outwards until there was a sizable clear area in the middle of the Ale Hall floor. Birthing a tiny flame at the tip of a finger he walked around tables, lighting the stubs of leftover candles from the patrons evening of merry making.

As he assessed his handywork Torgal appeared silently beside him and he leant down greeting their companion with a rough scruff up and a sneaky treat. Smiling conspiratorially at the lolling tongue and shiny eyes he whispered, “Alright you know what to do, right boy? You, are our lookout, you warn us if anyone comes near, understand?”

Torgal licked his nose and gave a quiet gruff ruff, tail wagging gamely. Almost as if happy to have a task, amongst the primarily lazy boredom of the last few months.

Joshua chuckled, and ruffled his ears, “Good boy, it is a very important duty tonight. I am counting on you to protect us. You can do it!”

Torgal whined thinly, turned and retreated into the doorway of the main deck, taking up an observant stance ears twitching forwards and back towards Charon’s toll and the Forge.

Stage two completed.

Stage three… Hopefully also an easy stage, get Clive.

………………………………………

Returning to their chambers he sat along the side of their bed excited and nervous and slightly embarrassed about his intent. Surely not to the point he would be if he was about to wake his brother up to spew forth pointless unfamiliar pretty words… not that he could, the right ones still eluded him. Yet Clive might still find this funny and his -fragile heart could not take it-… He giggled at the thought, founder fuck that, if Clive laughed at his efforts he would consider it a roaring success, his brother’s gaiety had become somewhat a personal mission for him since their reunion. Every laugh and snigger a triumph in his opinion.

Still smiling with anticipation he leant and reached down scooping up one of his flexible decorative plumes and slid fingers down it until they grasped the pointy ticklish end. Then he tipped forward on an arm and ran the lacey tip slowly down Clive’s nose, zig zagging it a little escalating the irritation. Clive snorted and his nose twitched, and chest hitching in silent laughter Joshua repeated the motion a few times until a tanned hand flew up and swatted at his face, growling in irritation. His brother turned over towards him reaching out and grasping his knee before settling once more.

Joshua again reached down this time running the silky point around and just inside, the shell of his brother’s ear. He managed a few tormenting loops before the hand on his knee shot back like a striking snake and constricted around his hovering wrist. Gasping surprised but quickly overtaken by hitching laughter as he realised Clive had likely been awake since he had turned and grabbed his leg and a low annoyed voice grumbled.

“I am certain such an hour at night is meant for one of three things dearest brother, sleeping, fucking and infiltration. Abusing my person with your Frilly Feathers, is none of the above… probably.” His voice lightened optimistically, and a still closed eye’s eyebrow rose. “Unless… You have had a change of heart about them being introduced, to certain bodily spendings??” Now that would be a luxurious experience, well worth waking up for.  

“Great founder no! Keep it away Clive!” He grimaced, still horrified at the memory.

“I thought as much.” Clive shuffled and opened his eyes, gazing up blearily, smiling tolerantly, “So then, enlighten me of your nefarious plot.”

Joshua dropped the single feather and it sprung back, he let his supporting arm bend down and pressed a quick kiss in his brother’s hair then replied, “A plot, admittedly yes… but nothing nefarious.” Well… a plot to infiltrate his brother’s tight arse wasn’t -nefarious-… was it? He shook his head tilting back and tapped at his caught wrist, and Clive deftly switched his grip to wrist holding wrist as Joshua stood and pulled him smoothly from their bed.

With no glaring reason for military speediness or thought, Clive stretched lazily, absently dragging his brother’s arm up with him, and after a moment his gaze landed squarely on one excitedly and noisily vibrating little birds heterochromatic eyes. He slumped and switched his grip again, threading their fingers together, holding Joshua’s hand, gesturing with the other. “Lead on.”

Joshua turned with a bounce and feathers -fluttered-

… Great merciful founder.

………………………………………..

Joshua dragged Clive out to the Ale Hall, glancing to the steps and refreshing Torgals instruction to guard, with a quick circle of an upturned finger, the hand sign for patrol. Clive watched curiously but indulgently and a few seconds later he stood confused in a circle of candle lit tables near the bar. Joshua squeezed his hand and dropped it silently instructing stay, and he jogged up to the Orchestrion selecting a slow but buoyant tune.

Smiling wide he returned to stand before his brother. He was missing the formal embellished boots and blood red overcoat of his rank, so instead he arched up quivering red wings behind him, simulating a regal display. He took Clive’s hand and dipped into a bow over it, gently kissing the knuckles before looking up through thick pale lashes and winking, “Assuming you remember how to do this brother, would you do me the great honour, of a dance?”

Clive grinned, well this was certainly unexpected, and slightly nerve racking, they were in a public space after all… and also heart flutteringly sweet. What exactly was Joshua up to. Yet, if they were to play beyond the safety of their closed door, the middle of the night was undoubtably the safest time to do so. Charmed and game for whatever fun was planned he took back his hand, resting it over his chest with the other placed at the small of his back and made a short bow back while asking. “Who is leading?”

Joshua’s tail hitched up a little, relieved and happy, trembling rustling the quills, and excited he mumbled while taking a step closer and pulling Clive’s arm up to rest on his shoulder. “Of course, I am brother. Do try not to stand on my toes.”

Clive let out a rough chuckle. “Ha! Never have before will certainly not embarrass myself by starting now! Lead on, My Love.”

However, as Joshua circled them around and around their small makeshift dance floor what neither of them accounted for were feathers! Beautiful long feathers!

Loop after dizzying loop, twist after turn… time after time… -tripping- over the droopy ends of his decorative trails. Each time Joshua winced, strangling a petty swear word and ruthlessly denying the obsessive urge to gather up and meticulously comb each one for damage. Reaching a precarious limit, he huffed annoyed and came to a graceful halt stepping back and bowing shallowly once again to his brother, muttering a hasty, “Excuse me.” Then glaring at the eyed points tangled around their feet bent sideways, and to Clive’s dawning delighted laughter reached around his behind, running his hand under and down his excitedly wriggling tail, scooping up the shafts, and bundled them over his leading arm as a performing dancer would an excess of flaring costume skirts.

He looked back to his smirking brother who raised a cocky eyebrow but tactfully said not a word. Though he did not really need to and flustered Joshua once again held out a hand and requested, “Shall we continue?”

“By all means.”

And he was certain the cretin was still silently laughing!

…………………………………..

Jill, was slightly worried. Not overmuch, Torgal was a hound after all, not a child, but it was rare he did not find his way into her small private room, and by extension the foot of her comfortable cool bed at some point before midnight. So yes, she was slightly concerned and instead of lingering in the fuzzy unrestful doze as she had been doing for the last several hours, she had decided a brief tour of Torgals favoured haunts to see if she could locate him to be a sensible action. She was not certain what she would do if she did not find him, but she could face that problem later if necessary.

Making her way from the bunks past the dimly lit infirmary and the mess was a quick leg, Torgal never frequented these areas, but she slowed as she passed the stores and began glancing about for the glow of patches of white fur that would give away Togals presence in the nighttime gloom.

It was cloudy tonight, so quite dark, but hints of the bright moon shone through and guided her way along the smooth wooden boards to the steps upto the main deck. As she mounted the bottom one, she looked up and beheld an attentive wag-tailed Torgal, taking a few steps towards her and grumbling welcomingly. She smiled wide and, despite having been only slightly concerned, relieved. Walking lightly up the steps to kneel on the top one, reaching out arms to fuss and whispering an accusing, “There you are you silly wolf, I was worried about you. Now is the time for sleeping, what are you doing out here boy?”

Torgal leant his muzzle on her shoulder growling quietly before rearing back and resuming an alert guard stance. Her brows creased confused, what in the world was Torgal protecting at this late hour, in this unlikely place. She sat back and looked around spying the dim glow of dying candles and for the first time hearing the heavily muted music of the Orchestrion.

Her head tilted suspiciously, the Hideaway did not have a curfew per say, but everyone who called it home, understood their worth and their role. Also sadly, many of them were not from backgrounds where restful sleep was a human right, and were grateful of the opportunity to be able to fully replenish themselves every night. They worked hard and they slept hard, and it was not often after the bar closed that there would be people still awake and present. She became curious.

She gathered her skirts and rose sneaking down the hallway for a closer look into the main deck, at who was making use of the Ale Hall, possibly for a romantic interlude, as founder knows privacy was an impossibility in the bunks, and slowly highlighted by tiny flames glaringly gold feathers came into focus, followed by rich red, and burnished blonde hair. Joshua, and a darker figure… Clive. She smiled pleased at their presence and automatically took another step forward, a greeting on her lips before she froze and truly looked at them.

Surrounded by candles and romantic music.

As Clive leaned in and softly kissed Joshua.

Her breath hitched, her hand quicky shooting up to stifle her involuntary shocked noise, and she slowly took the step back, and another, until she once again stood at the crest of the stairs of the main deck next to Torgal. Distraught she knelt next to her wolf, wrapping arms around him to steady herself, holding back blistering salty tears.

What… What was this.

Surely she must have witnessed something other than what it seemed, but… what else could it possibly be. There could not feasibly be many… if any… reason for brothers to kiss so. It was not an accident, and it was certainly not the first time, they were confidently, knowingly necking, in the middle of the night, in the deserted Ale Hall, with Torgal vigilantly on guard.

This was planned.

“Great merciful founder, what do I do Torgal!” She whispered, brokenly.

Shaking she remained frozen against her loyal comforting friend, fighting for control, breathing deep and harsh as muddled thoughts darted and spiralled in her head. Yet as she fretfully calmed, bit by bit she noticed, that the thought most prominent, that reverbed again and again to the forefront of her mind, was awful fear, that someone other than her… someone who did not love them as she did, would discover them next. Would witness this un-natural rendezvous… thoughtlessly condemn them. With no leniency or allowances as to the hardships they had lived through for each other, or knowledge of what event had prompted this illicit change in their relationship.

She took a shattered breath raising her head. Her heart pounded and tears begged to fall, but she warded them off facing another undeniable truth. She was so upset not because her brothers were canoodling, but because she had seen the proof, that Clive was no longer hers, and despite everything, right now, at this moment, they needed her protection. Unfortunately, had she ever been sensible and practical and efficient and as the Iron kingdom’s most devastatingly destructive weapon, like Clive during his years of brutal slavery, she had been forced to learn the soul destroying skill of compartmentalisation.

She could face her heartbreak later.

Reaching a painful decision, she fluffed Torgal’s twitching ears and hoarsely bade with the rotating hand signal for guard, “You keep watch here, I will circle around to the forge and watch from that side. Keep them safe my friend.” Torgal’s tail thumped down twice and he whined questioningly as she stood, straitening her skirts, and retreated like a pale phantom into the darkness.

…………………………..

Clive, was floating in a heart struck heaven, glowing and thrumming with mesmerised puppy love as Joshua spun him slowly around their makeshift dancefloor. Granting kisses and trembling teasing touches and the intermittent private sanctuary of curled wings. He was sure he had an airheaded adoring grin on his face but it did not matter, Joshua had one also. This was incredible, so very worth a midnight wake up call. Something to savour and sear into his memory, as it was sure to be a rare occurrence. Of course, they could get away with a public dance here and there, a bouncy ditty or a group circle dance, maybe even, if rousingly drunk, a rare formal dance.

But not this.

The music clicked over to a new song, quiet and slow and beautiful. Joshua sighed and rocked his elbow, letting his quills drop with an absent flick to straighten them out behind him. He moved his arms, hands leaving the familiar traditional positions for formal dancing and wrapped them around his shoulders pulling him in to slot close together, his chin rested besides Clive’s neck and Clive returned the affection holding his brother close. Instead of twirling they stood and swayed.

Clive’s head dropped into his brother’s neck, the place which he had bitten so primally the first time they had sex… fucked?... made love?

Maybe mated, was the correct term. None other seemed fitting.

He had apologised profusely later, to which Joshua had become angry and insulted and shrieked back that, he would never allow another to mark him, only Clive was permitted to take such liberties, and how dare he apologise for his claim. Then the blonde had wilted looking contrite and confused, and so concerned himself, he had gently suggested healing the unconcealable mark. His brother had nodded shakily and flames had briefly engulfed his neck, then after all trace was erased Joshua had clung puzzled and upset.

He had not been completely sure as to the reason why his brother was so greatly distressed, but having inhabited the base mind of a beast himself, he could hazard a guess, and comfort was a given between them. Deep in his chest, he had felt the hint of despairing truth that had he still harboured Ifrit in his soul, he would have understood and felt the pain himself. But, since then his brother had invited teeth eagerly, and always in the same place he had initially scented out. Which never failed to make his mouth water, as it did now.

He half expected, half desired, for his brother to perform that incrementally tiny tilt, the plea to pull back lips from teeth and take a fierce sharp hold of flesh. However, Joshua continued to sway dreamily and he felt his brother’s hand trail up his neck and tangle in the hair at his nape, stroking soothingly. He pulled his nose away and took a deep breath of the settling air of the Ale Hall, the scent of savoury stew and sweet beer and hard working bodies hazed the room, and helped him wrestle his monstrous side back. He remembered, this moment was love not mating. So instead he firmed his embrace, and unprompted one hand slid down his brother’s back and sank into the poofy base of a quivering tail. 

Joshua giggled low and quiet, anxiety over Clive’s possessive touch on his tail long since overcome, and his words buzzed against the leaping skin of Clive’s neck, “You, just cannot help yourself can you brother?”

Clive mumbled back, “I am certain you do not realise the extent to which this flirty addition mounted beckoningly over your perky behind has a mind of its own, and just how much, it torments me daily… sometimes nightly, beloved.”

Joshua raised his head smiling knowingly and replied, “Oh, I am very aware, and believe it as you will, as of late I venture I have the right to make the same complaint.” One hand left Clive’s shoulder and dropped quickly down his arm till it cupped a cotton covered globe, greedily digging fingers into the plump flesh. His eyes sparkled as he said bluntly, “As tight leather breeches, leave nothing to the tender mercies of imagination, and you are being persistently, and infuriatingly resistant about letting me in, brother.”

Clive sputtered a laugh and dragged Joshua back in closer by a gentle guiding grip on tail and the root of a wing. Yet, unfortunately the sweet slow song was building up to an ending crescendo and so too should their romantic interlude. They had chanced discovery for long enough and he had no wish for their luck to run out. However first he had a suspicion he wanted an answer to.

He pressed a short kiss against Joshua’s cheek and spoke mildly into the skin, “So tell me, why the nefarious plot, for a delightful yet risky night of dancing.”

Joshua steeled himself, all right it was time to come clean, and hopefully have earned permission to finally indulge himself in his brother’s unfairly perfect body. “Well, as you have not hesitated to remind me over the last passing days, I promised you the ‘sweetest most irresistibly romantic words’ did I not. However, despite my inexhaustible efforts to discover the perfect ones, I still find myself lacking for romantic words. And, it has been daaays Clive.” He griped ruefully, then he raised his head and turned it to gesture at the candles and the Orchestrion. “So, I thought, this… candlelight, and music, just for the two of us, may hopefully suffice in their stead. So how did I perform, have I passed your Romance test?”

Clive’s eyes glinted mischievously, “You, are admitting defeat then brother?” He teased pitiless.

“What? No! I am providing a different aspect of romance Clive, surely all romance leads up to the same… goal… ultimately.”

Clive sighed wryly and unrepentant shook his head, “Well I admit you did well, but the promise was for romantic whispered ‘words,’ I think regrettably you may have failed to deliver.”

Joshua winced mildly panicked, this was unacceptable, it felt like he had not had sex in years… again, and Clive was implying the continuation of this ridiculously frustrating game, and so he would have to wait even longer, to earn his prize.

Clive did not understand who he was dealing with.

His wings bristled and he raised a pointed finger jabbing it in his brother’s sternum. “Fine then you leave me no choice, I did not want to resort to such uncouth bargaining as this on you once more Clive, but I have only one option left to me now. Time to use the big magicks. I promise you, for one month, I will re-construct and maintain our nest… IF… I no longer need flounder for these confoundingly mystifying words you wish to hear me insincerely spout in completely unreasonable ransom to have you spread your legs for me.

Clive gagged, choking on breath and blushed a flaming red, Joshua was direct as always… and also knew him too well. Despite his deep-seated want for closeness and acceptance, it was surely silly of him to consider this, his brother’s nest as a bribe. It was just… a pile of blankets really. Embarrassingly attained, painstakingly constructed, and meticulously maintained, but nonetheless… a pile of blankets.

One that only he was welcome to join his brother in… so very pride strokingly tempting.

He hesitated, wavering. Admit his weakness, and give Joshua the knowledge and ammunition to lord it over him forevermore, and in return get his selfish desire for his brother’s nest and end this amorous dry spell he was inflicting on them both. Or hold out for a few surely awkward, if sweet loving declarations.

He sighed, and smiled defeated. “Counter offer, sly fox.” And Joshua tilted an eyebrow, wings raising a few inches eager and interested. Clive continued, “Our nest, for two months and one single sweet sentence from your wily mouth… nothing you have not randomly done before…” He paused seemingly finished but had a fleeting thought and one more demand bust forth enthusiastically. “Oh! And, you sweet talk, or bribe, or bully Mid into constructing us our own Orchestrion. So, what say you?”

Joshua’s gaze slid off to the side and he raised a thoughtful hand to his mouth. The rest of it fine, at this point he would pay any price but, ‘a sweet sentence’… not Romance. After a moment lips curved into a small smile and he slid closer, wrapping arms around Clive’s shoulders one hand twisting in thick dark waves, pulling his brother’s head in to rest next to his lips.

He whispered his ‘sweet sentence’ into his brother’s ear, “You make me feel… like I’m flying brother.”

God’s what trite… but it was true, and did it matter if it made Clive happy.

………………………………………..

Jill, as was Torgal, stood a silent attentive vigil, listening for advancing creaks and footsteps, and a short time later the music quieted to a stop. She did not look towards it, she needed not, and after a but a moment she heard tables scraping across the wooden floor before hasty stumbling footsteps and hushed voices approached. She sank into the depths of shadow beside the entrance of the corridor between the Black Hammer and Charons Toll and waited head lowered granting them their privacy, until she heard the door to their chambers heavily close. Certain now, that she would remain unseen she joined their exodus returning to her room, Torgal padding faithfully beside her after the departure of his master.

She cried… Not a dainty tear or two, real heaving heartfelt sobs. But despite her heartbreak, there was an aspect of joy for them, and resolve for their surely stressful secret plight… and the blossoming determination in her breast that after months of teetering uncertainty, her life should now begin again, for a sixth time. Her childhood, her wardship, her captivity, her freedom… Clive… and now, who can tell what next.

She would be fooling herself if she did not admit, that she had been holding onto the thread of tender hope than Clive would return to her. That the fear instilled in him at Origin, fear for Joshua’s safety, would gradually abate with time and distance, and he would accept that he could have both his desires. That he could protect Joshua just as effectively with her, that she could help him. But the forbidden step they had taken, that she had witnessed, was obviously not made lightly, or without intent of resolute fidelity. She did feel an unexpected twinge of relief as well, that Clive had chosen to be with Joshua next and not another… No-one had ever been able to compete with him for Clive’s devotion, and if she must lose him, she preferred it to be to the one, who neither she nor any other could ever hope to compare with in his heart.

She felt a certain small amount of empathy for their taboo situation as she, even only as a ward of the Rosfield house had been brought up a part of their family, and was considered by all to be their sister. And even though the juvenile infatuation had been there as children, as she and Clive had fallen in love as adults, she could not help occasionally catching a glimpse of him and seeing only her loving, protective, fumblingly eager and emotionally damaged, brother. Her saving grace each time it happened, the fact that there was no blood tie between them.

However, none of that now mattered. It was time to finally admit a painful defeat.

But, this would not break her, she was certain this life she had fought so hard for, would bless her with all the happiness she had ever wished she could have, and she would keep on doggedly trying, until she found it. Nothing, not even Clive, was worth simply giving up on the life she wanted for herself. She was sturdy and resilient, and like them, she was fully capable of a remarkable re-birth.

She wiped roughly at her eyes, Torgal whined concerned at her side and she leant into his comforting softness whispering, “Not to worry boy, I just need a little time. I will be fine.”

……………………………….

Clive lay on his back, the sun was cresting the horizon, the first beautiful warming rays of light and energy blessing the fraught land with the promise of renewed life glowed through the splits of the newly acquired drapes of their hatch. Joshua laid against him, breathing deeply and evenly, wings and that god-damned tail sprawled behind him, draping carelessly and yet unavoidably beautifully over the edge of their bed. He bent his neck and placed a reverent kiss on a mussed golden crown, smiling gently, amused. Unfortunately, after their Romantic twirling interlude, the rest of the night had not played out, exactly as Clive had expected it to.

Returning to their room expecting it to be demanded he pay up, he had welcomed tempting lips and elegant fingers doing a painfully knowing job at getting his cock fully interested in the idea of ‘spreading his legs’ for his long awaited fucking. Then Joshua had thwarted his desires… again… citing in that lovely smooth voice, ‘Do not let yourself become too excited brother, I have no intention on collecting on our deal tonight.’

He had been rightly stumped and stuck for a response, so all that had escaped his mouth was an incoherent, ‘Eh?’ While unknown to him, he had unfortunately run aground against his brother’s unrelenting fastidious streak.

Joshua had blurted a laugh at his gobsmacked expression and elaborated, ‘Of course I expect you to bathe before I mount you Clive. Do you even remember when you last visited the wash rooms?’

He had still been in disbelief and had mindlessly stuttered a repeated, ‘…Eh?’

Joshua had sighed dramatically before grinning, and for some reason despite telling him not to get too excited he still rubbed tormentingly at the roomy crotch of his sleep shorts, squeezing possessively at his enamoured and confused cock. ‘It seems I have once again broken you brother, fear not I intend to collect with all haste… after you prepare yourself properly for me.’ The arm he had looped around Clive’s neck tightened pulling them closer as he had gained a thoughtful expression, and looked down at the tremoring dick he teased. ‘However, I suppose if you are so eager, you could slip into the baths and do it now? I did wish for more time than the few meagre hours we have left of this night, but I am more than willing to be convinced otherwise.’

At that point he had finally regained coherence and use of his stunned tongue and grabbing his brother’s shoulders sputtered, ‘What!? Joshua! All these shenanigans just for you to refuse me?’

‘Not refuse, postpone, just until you bathe Clive. It is not an unreasonable desire to wish you clean before I put my mouth on-… you.’

‘I am not bathing at such an ungodly hour of night Joshua.’

‘Are you suuure? To be frank, it would be most easy right now. The wash rooms would be completely deserted, allowing you the opportunity to do a thorough job, and that could be -rewarding- brother.’

He had shivered, in tormented longing but also repelled and shot back, ‘Maybe, but in COLD water, I hate cold water.’

Joshua had shaken his head and clasped his shoulder consolingly. ‘Then is seems we are at an impasse brother. Unless you have a… suggestion?’

Slightly incensed from the misleading foreplay but quickly deciding this need not mean the end of their fun for the night he had yanked Joshua in by his loose belt, pulling on the lace tie to unravel the waist. Then raised his eyes, winking and… suggestively licked his lips.

Joshua had swallowed harshly, face beginning to glow a blushing pink and he nodded jerkily. ‘That… would be acceptable also.’

……………………………………

The quiet morning serenity was besieged by a whispered “…God damn it!” How was he just now realising he could have heated the water himself!!

‘But’ he licked his lips, ‘the alternative was truly delicious.’

Oh well….

He smiled, snuffling into richly scented hair, only for Joshua to unconsciously grump at him for moving and wriggle down a few inches settling away from the annoying rooting nose, denying him this alluring smell. He did not know if it was his brother’s soap or just Joshua, but it never changed and never became any less enticing. He bent his neck further and pressed a light kiss against the velvet locks before reclining back.

…Bathing huh?

Truly, even after Phoenix Gate Joshua must have lived a fairly indulgent life, at least in comparison to him. An Imperial soldier slave, expendable, food and water a luxury to be earned, and bathing, well did dirty rags dipped in dirtier puddles of water and rubbed briefly over faces and crotches count as baths? Probably not. It had been nice when he had been on mission and a river ran near their camp, a very rare occasion, -especially if he had managed to sequester on his person a sliver of harsh soap,- to be truly clean. It was something most people take for granted.

And Joshua… Rescued from death by the Undying, comatose for years, weak for years more. Then beginning a journey burdened by duty, leading to his dea-… No, not going there. He back tracked a little thinking of years he had missed at his brother’s side. He wished he could have been there. However, Joshua had the Undying, and Jote to protect him. He was thankful for that. As fervent as the Undying were, their belief that his brother… the Phoenix… Their worshipped fiery God’s safety, was a necessity wholly above that of any other, was probably the only thing that had kept his stubborn fearless brother safe for years. They may be, despite their respectability and usefulness, what was in effect a fanatic cult, but he owed them, surely more than he could ever repay.

Under their obsessive watch Joshua, had likely never truly experienced hunger so brutal his stomach would begin eating itself, or filth so rank people swung pitch forks at you to drive you and your stench off. Pain so fierce you forgot you had any limbs other than the one that radiated the encompassing hurt. He was relieved that none of these horrible experiences had been a part of his brother’s life.

Yes, it had taken Joshua deciding to become his saviour, for his brother to feel real suffering, escalating weakness, a lurking evil hole in his chest, constant encroaching undimmable pain and the ever-hastening claim of the curse as Ultima grew stronger and he continued to fight tirelessly beside them.

Guilt gnawed at his heart… While he stood sturdy and almost untouched battle after battle.

Yes, he supposed their adult years had been frightfully different, little wonder they had differing values and habits.

His brow creased, but to refuse SEX, for lack of a imminently recent bath? Almost verging on preposterous!

He sighed…. But, he was just laid here musing over inconsequential thoughts, stubbornly killing time, putting off the inevitable start to this day. It was early… too early really, and his brother likely due to their late night, would cling deeply to slumber for a least a few more hours. He lifted his chest and shuffled a pillow down, then smoothly twisted and slid Joshua’s head onto it.  

Pulling back free from his treasured burden he left the bed and swiftly dressed. He sighed once more and straightened resolute, and though he wanted to return to the alluring comfort of their bed and the heat that radiated unfailingly from his brother’s peachy skin, he could doze indulgently no longer. He… had a sister to win back.

Yes, a sister.

He had spied the telling whisps of long silver hair, blown by the breeze, swirling and peeking around the main deck archway, as he and Joshua had bumbled their way smiling and groping back to their room last night.

Jill had been there, silently watching out for them, as devoted a sentry as their four legged guardian.

Protecting them.

He had not revealed her to his brother, nor had he thought it wise to go to her, she would need time to organise her thoughts, and to reach her own resolution. And now she had used that time he owed her any explanation, any truth she wished to hear. Joshua would understand, in fact Joshua would be relieved. Despite his reassurances that his choice was wholly his own, it weighed on his brother, that Clive chose him. It weighed on them both that they had to skulk and hide and lie.

To everyone, Gav and Tarja, Mid and Jote

But especially to Jill.

He penned a short note to Joshua, explaining where he was and not to come looking, he would return when he finished speaking with Jill. Then walked quietly over to the entrance, and tilted the latch so it would fall back into place as he pulled the door closed. Sealing away his rumpled naked brother, obliviously dreaming in the wrong bed, from any who might attempt to seek him out while he was absent.

He leant against the front of their locked door, crossing his arms and gazing at the arched ceilings. The situation between himself and Jill had been… strained, for months. It was difficult for others to notice, their history of abuse making it all too easy to falsely don a protective guise, this one of normality, of friendship and comradery. He was not even certain Joshua had seen thorough that cloak of deception, though in his brother’s defence, he did not need to assume the ruse when they were together, whether alone or with their companions. He was too truly unbearably happy with Joshua, fake contentment was not needed. Should… he feel guilt for that? For feeling this indescribable joy, while in the presence of his previous lover. Either way he would not attempt to curtail the feelings, having Joshua… healthy and whole and by his side, was worth any guilt.

Jill was already aware of the oath he swore to himself on the shores of Origin. He had not been callous enough to end their love without exceptional reason, and it would be no hardship to explain how that initial vow had evolved… on his part… through selfish desperation, into a relationship guaranteed to bind his brother to him. In a position where he could be protected and adored and coveted, always near, for the rest of their lives. However, there was the undeniable possibility that she would not be able to grasp the extreme lengths he… they… had taken, in order to become this deliriously happy, to attain the purest love he had ever experienced, to remain together.

This talk had the potential go monumentally badly, but… he expected not. He was cautiously certain that, she would not have quietly stood watch over their winsome date, if she truly believed them disgus-…. wrong. Yet simply because she had held her tongue and stayed her sword, by no means meant she was happily or even passively accepting of them. However, even if she could not forgive him, he would make it crystal clear that Joshua was not to blame, that he had chosen his brother well before that instinctive invite to his nest. But, he had to believe this talk would not end badly, because… it would ruin everything, and if it did they would leave, perhaps back to Rosalith as Joshua wished to. Despite the dangers they would have no other choice, if necessary he would make Joshua leave.

But all would be well, because Jill loved them… He knew, if anyone was capable of understanding this strange love they had carefully and attentively nurtured between them over the months since Origin, since Joshua’s miraculous re-birth, it was her.

Once this talk was over, he would return to the encompassing embrace of his one love, and if it went well, Joshua might even be convinced to spoil him a little once more. Indeed, failure was tragically unthinkable, he braced his shoulders and set off for the bunks…

It… had been months, of awkward distressing tension between them, but… it was time to earn them their sister back.

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