War And Love, Part One
#4 of War And Love
Rain pounded on the deck as a lone feline sat in his cabin, watching the waves pass with a vague look of sadness on his face. His hand tapped a slow rhythm on the table before him, just under one of the windows on the rear of the great ship Sarhandael. His father stood on the deck, behind the navigator, barking orders to the sailors scurrying to and fro adjusting ropes and righting sails in the rain. The feline in the cabin adored the rain but not the sea, with its vast emptiness and undulating horizons; it made him nauseous to look at for extended periods. He turned his attention back to the text lying open before him, titled "The Lore Of The Beast", a history of the Narzhol race, his own.
It had been quite the sensation in court when he was born; the only Narzhol to have been born in centuries. A sub-race of the Felis race, Narzhol were ancient indeed. They were rumored to hold great magical power, as well as being able to tap into the Narzhol racial memory. They were all wrong of course; the feline snorted as he read the section on their 'powers'.
"Lies." he said, shutting the book with another dismissive snort. "I doubt he even met one of us before penning this." He stood, going to one of the speaking-tubes in a corner of his cabin.
"Quartermaster?" He spoke into the tube, then pressed his ear against it. A sound of rustling came up, followed by a terrific thud, then a voice breathing heavily.
"Y-Yessir!"
"Please send up some tuna with some of the fine bread. And a bottle of wine."
"Yessir!" There came the sound of scurrying footsteps up through the tube, and the feline backed away to lie on his bed.
He despised being drug along on his father's voyages, even if the destination was somewhere as remote and interesting as Cairi, the Gold Kingdom. Rich in spices and overflowing with magical energy, it was a stark contrast to his dark, militaristic homeland of Ozzos. Yet as he ate the food delivered by the quartermaster himself, something else tugged at a corner of his mind, a corner long suppressed. He imagined his perfect mate as he chewed on a crust of fine Ozzan bread, down to the soft and luxurious fur, well maintained and combed daily, his nude body dripping with seawater as both he and the feline held each other on the beach, speaking of their plans together...
"Aylwin!" came his father's voice, as the door opened. His daydreaming shattered, he looked up quickly.
"Oh, father, is something wrong?" Aylwin asked, eying his father's damp frame. His hair was braided down to his shoulders, and beginning to gray at the tips along with his facial fur.
"No...been too long on deck, I guess. I wanted to tell you we've been making excellent headway, we'll be arriving in Cairi within the next day." His weatherworn face looked excited. Time was important to the old captain, and he was saving plenty of it.
"Really? I should pack then, right?"
"Right, get things ready. We'll be leaving as soon as the negotiations and pleasantries are done." He spoke of the yearly trade route negotiations; he hadn't missed one yet.
"'Course." He remained seated, leaning back in his chair. "Oh, father...could you inform the crew not to bother me until dawn?"
"Ah. Of course, my son. Wanting to be well rested?"
"...Yes." He said with the barest hesitation. The captain nodded, shutting the door behind him as he left.
His heart pounding and food nearly forgotten, Aylwin leapt to his feet almost as soon as the door was closed, undressing and folding his clothing neatly on his sea-chest in the corner. The only light was from the pair of windows over the table, and this was quickly snuffed by the heavy crimson curtains, drawn after another glance over the sea. He lit a lamp, setting it on the side table as he rummage inside his second chest for his most private relic. A large, polished stone carved in a vaguely phallic shape glinted in the light from the lamp next to Aylwin as he held it close, warming it in his fur as he searched for the small vial of oil that accompanied the stone.
"Oh Hinxato...not long until we are together again, but I can't hold it any more..." Finding the oil he took both to his bed, coating the now-warm stone in the slick oil and reclining against his stacked pillows. Spreading his legs he brought the stone to his tailhole, wincing a bit with the initial effort but gasping quietly as the finely-polished stone slipped past his ring and into him, filling him with the warm tightness he had missed so much since he had last seen his lover. Quickly he unsheathed, his feline member getting the same treatment as the toy, using the last of the oil in the vial. The air in the cabin soon filled with the scent of his play, mixed with the flowery scent of the oil and the salt from the sea, tingling Aylwin's sensitive nose and increasing his pleasure. The toy's increasing girth was difficult for him to take, even the head quite a stretch, but even this shallow penetration filled him with a warm, roiling sensation that spread to his member, encased in his hand as he stroked quickly. Gritting his fangs and tensing, he clamped over the toy to feel its reassuring firmness, his orgasm flowing over him like a tidal surge over a hapless fishing village. Powerful and fierce, his orgasm sent his seed across his chest and belly in a fan of viscous heat.
As he slumped against the pillows, allowing the toy to slip free from his tailhole's viselike grasp, he could almost hear Hinxato's loving tease; 'We must work on your endurance, dear...' But as his orgasmic revelry faded, his mind snapped back to darker thoughts. Homosexuality was punishable by death in Ozzos, and technically Ozzos and Cairi were at war, but not openly. Aylwin's father ran a mercantile go-between, and while technically a smuggling operation both nations profited so much they did not interfere. Also, his father was a delegate between the two nations, and this trade meeting had a dual purpose; to negotiate a peace treaty in between the trade-speak. Things were delicate, Aylwin knew this, but there were things that not even outright war can interrupt. Hinxato was a lord's son, Aylwin a merchant's son. While Hinxato's father, Lord Wyrdhowler VI, deeply approved of Aylwin, the feeling was not mutual when it came between Wyrdhowler and Cptn. Chamburleyn. The Captain despised the Lord, mostly on a social level, but also a long-standing dispute between the two that only they knew of.
Aylwin had been subject to the lectures of Cptn. Chamburleyn almost nightly for a week prior to his first trip to Cairi on the evils of the Gold Kingdom, their debauchery, their drug use and their 'disgusting' practice of sodomy. But Aylwin had been shown differently when he met Hinxato; it is not debauchery, it is enjoyment of life. It is not drug use, it is personal relaxation. It is not sodomy, it is love. Aylwin thought of this as he cleaned up and packed away his things, only after doing such remembering to bathe away his seed and open a single leak-proof window to air out the scent. But such thoughts gave way to romantic dreams as he fell to slumber.