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Rumors had been circulating in the village for some time. Aeros had just heard them, but he knew well enough that by the time certain gossip reached the ears of the chieftess, the villagers had been spreading it for a while. This almost universally held for gossip about the chieftess' family, so while it was an unfortunate thing that Aeros had to deal with, there was a small grace in that he wouldn't have to travel far to perform his duty and investigate the matter while his wife, the leader of the herd, did damage control.

As Aeros approached the spring that was reserved for the use by the leaders of the herd, the pair of guards moved aside. Being the mate of the chieftess carried certain advantages, even if he never would carry the title of chieftain. That mattered little enough to Aeros - the marriage was all that mattered. It meant safety for him and his family, and those of his herd that offered to join with the others. Aeros and his herd assimilated well within their new fold, but it seemed that others did not meld as seamlessly.

Before passing the two guards completely, the chieftess' consort looked at them both. "Leave us for a few minutes," he said quietly before proceeding. Having given the order, he moved on, not waiting to make sure that he had been obeyed.

Another small grace was found at the spring itself. There, the prince Deimos bathed without the companionship of neither his mate nor any servants. He was alone as he dipped his hands in the water, lifting them over his head before opening them slightly and letting the warm water drip onto his ebony hair.

Aeros took a moment to inspect the other centaur, noting their differences. He had, of course, spoken with his son's mate many times, but it was rare for any member of the leading family to get moments of privacy to themselves, let alone with another member of the family. In the quiet and serene tableau, Aeros merely observed, trying to see if there was anything about the other male's body which would betray the rumors being true, or whether there was anything else untoward about him.

"You don't merely have to admire from the bank, you know," Deimos' voice drifted over the water, soft and lilting. "I doubt that I could forbid you even if I wanted to."

Aeros grunted. "At least you remember _something_of protocol."

Deimos turned slightly, just enough that he had to look over his shoulder to catch Aeros' eyes. "Whatever do you mean?" Almost as if he was daring Aeros to call him out directly.

The older centaur was glad that neither his nor his wife's herds subscribed to this coquettish bullshit. They were both of straightforward stock. Perhaps that is why they were able to get along so well. Perhaps that was also why Deimos was having difficulty adjusting to life within the new, amalgamated herd. If his people were more delicate in their approaches, then he probably was not expecting to be confronted so directly.

"I meant," Aeros started, stepping up to the spring's shore, "that we have gotten word of your dalliances with other males in the village."

Deimos turned fully, causing the water around his flanks to ripple and eddy, breaking up the sun's reflection and setting the surface of the spring into a glittery dance that underlit his face. The formerly coy, playful expression of the prince had soured into a frown. A face that still held the elasticity of youth now showed deep furrows on his pale forehead.

"My husband has shown no hesitation in keenly lusting after others, and yet I am the one getting dressed down for my behavior?"

"That is his prerogative. He is of the chieftess' blood. It is only right for him to sire many children, and claim any of the herd that will have him. He is our protector, and will someday be our leader. You are to be the faithful spouse, the center of the home."

Deimos crossed his arms in front of his chest. On someone built as Aeros, this gesture would have caused muscles to flex and show off an air of defensiveness. Deimos was lithe, and pale, almost feminine, lacking in the hard and defined musculature of males like Aeros and his own spouse. For Deimos, the gesture only gave off the air of a petulant child. Aeros imagined a back hoof stomping at the floor of the spring in protest.

"That is easy for you to say. Your wife loves you, your wife is faithful to you. You don't have to worry about her deciding that one day, someone else will serve her needs better than you can and dismiss you like some worn-out concubine. You don't have to spend your days making sure that the shelter is kept up to the high standards required of the leading family, only to have your spouse not come home that night, or the next, because he has been venting himself upon some_mare_!"

An angry splash of the water punctuated the prince's rant. Aeros didn't flinch nor move away as droplets of water arced towards him, splattering against his hairy chest and stomach. He did not return the prince's gestures, simply standing at the edge of the water with his arms hanging at his side. He was naturally bigger, taller, and of more stocky build than his son-in-law, and the geography of the terrain only accentuated the difference. Scowling down at the princeling, the chieftess' consort's face couldn't help but soften.

"It is not an easy position to find yourself in, Deimos, that is sure. Still, you have responsibilities to not only your husband but to the herd that cannot be ignored. We all do. That is the price we pay to be in the position of power that we find ourselves in. You have better guards, better food, better drink, and better quarters than anyone else in the village because of your union. Do not jeopardize it lightly."

Deimos started to turn, his eyes gazing at his own reflection before he seemed to remember himself and looked up at his father-in-law. "And if I do everything right. If I remain chaste and pure and avowed to him, and he decides that he wants to take a younger wife who can bear him young? I could still end up losing it all. What is to stop him from doing so tomorrow?"

"His parent's disapproval. Neither of us hold cheaply the vows that we made to one another, and we hold the same feelings towards the vows that you made to one another. We would not allow him to so callously toss away a union such as yours for frivolous reasons."

The prince shifted his weight between his hooves, a roll of the eyes signaling to Aeros that his words brought the younger centaur no comfort. "So he will not do it officially, he will merely carry on as he has been, without repercussion?"

"I will...speak to my son about his behavior as well, Deimos. Consider, though, how your behavior affects how the people see us. Even if you don't believe your husband cares whether you have these encounters, others of the leading family do." With a deep breath, Aeros added. "Please."

The final word softened Deimos's scowl a little bit, and he uncrossed his arms just enough to let his hands dip below his navel, fingertips just entering the water. It was a more demure, subservient pose, and Deimos nodded in agreement. Not feeling like he had done anything other than wound his son-in-law, Aeros departed the edge of the spring, unable to even relish the satisfaction of a duty well executed.

The spring was quiet for a little while after the chieftess' consort departed. Deimos returned to his bathing, not as exuberant as before. His skin was already growing hot under the light of the sun, something he was unaccustomed to if the paleness of his skin was any metric to measure by. Even though the water of the spring was heated, it was still a small relief from the baking feeling that was slowly creeping on his arms and shoulders. The thick, black fur on his horse-like flanks didn't have that same issue, thankfully.

The sound of another set of approaching hooves made the prince look up from the water's surface for the first time since his father-in-law had left. A small smile slowly spread over pink lips as he saw one of his guards approaching. The leading family had differing opinions when it came to the guards - some saw them as unnecessary, but Deimos was always glad for their presence. Not that he ever felt endangered, but they were kind and not a bad sight to behold. They were, after all, some of the best warrior stock the herd had to offer, and were kept trained to some of the highest standards.

"Everything ok, prince?" the guard, whose name Deimos knew to be Platon, asked, crossing his arms and leaning his top half on a tree branch that bordered the spring. It was the branch that housed the prince's sash and diadem, the symbols of his station.

"Fine, Platon," the other centaur responded. "Just a lovely little family chat, nothing to concern yourself with." The prince knew_something_of propriety, not to air the family's dirty laundry in front of anyone, not even their trusted bodyguards. "Did he say anything to either of you?"

Platon shrugged. "Just told us to scram for a few minutes. We worried about you, that we would come back to find you in trouble, or worse, but it doesn't look like he even made you get out of the water."

Deimos blew air between his lips to make a dismissive noise. "Of course he didn't. It was easier to look down on me from up there." The prince walked along the bottom of the spring towards his bodyguard. "With you here, I take it the coast is clear and Niko is waiting his turn?"

With those words, the prince's coy, borderline shy lilt returned to his voice. Even his movements, his right hand wrapping around his left forearm, a slight turn of his head downward and to the left, so that he had to look up through his own eyelashes at the other male, were choreographed and purposeful. Deimos' herd had their lands taken by the chieftess' almost two years prior, and in that time, Deimos quickly learned what to say and how to say it when it came to the others of the herd. It was partially that skill that let him survive the assimilation, and catch the eye of the chieftess' second eldest son.

Of course, Aeros' appearance made that feel like less of a blessing and more of a curse today, but the prince was determined to get the encounter out of his mind for a little while. He had some blessed privacy with one of his favorite bodyguards, someone who he was sure had the discretion, or perhaps the fear, not to let a little dalliance between them become a source of gossip. Aeros would be furious if he found that the very first thing that Deimos did after being scolded was precisely what he had been scolded for.

Platon, for his part, had started out hesitant. He was one who subscribed wholly to his duty and honor among his fellow centaurs. It took a while, but the more time he spent with the rather feminine-looking prince, especially when Deimos was without his husband, the more he grew to like him as a person, and not just as a ward to protect. From there, the gradual shift into a more physical intimacy came easier. They could never be together, not while Deimos was wed, but they were always near one another.

Platon was larger than Deimos, taller both in his human-like torso and his horse-like body, and bulkier thanks to his breeding and training. Unlike the royalty he guarded, Platon's skin blended more smoothly with his dusky brown coat. He simply spent more time in the sun, his skin tanning under its rays, and when he sweat, or was wet, Deimos whispered to him that it shined like bronze.

"Well," Deimos said as he stepped out of the water. "We had best get to it then if Niko wants a turn and I can get cleaned up before people start to notice my absence."

The guard grunted his ascent, removing his arms from the tree branch and kipping up with a mighty leap. He managed to hook his front limbs on the branch, resting most of his weight there while on hoof tips on his back legs. This exposed his stomach and the sternum of his horse-half to the prince - the centaur that was moving quickly to kneel, half-underneath and half-to-the-side, of his bodyguard.

Deimos' green eyes fell to the object of his desire, and he could see that already some thoughts were influencing the larger centaur's body. Between his legs dangled a powerful pair of colt-makers, capped off by a thick sleeve that contained a mighty breeding rod. Or at least, it was usually contained. Under Deimos' gaze, it slid into the warm air surrounding the hot spring. Reaching out a delicate hand that had never known a day's hard labor, Deimos' fingers danced along the flesh.

It was hotter than the water he had just emerged from and was growing firmer under his fingertips as it became more and more prominent. It was pale pink, almost beige, but growing darker as it grew more turgid. Moving his other hand to support the underside, he could feel the heat rising, and felt the centaur's cock dance in his palm. The guard's body only knew that it was breeding time - the positioning, the warmth, and whatever images that Platon had dancing about in his mind goaded his spear to emerge.

After nearly a foot of hot equine meat was available to him, Deimos leaned forward, planting a soft kiss just behind the flared, musky head of the guard's shaft. Without removing his lips, he slowly began to run his head up and down the length, tracing veins with his tongue. Where his lips were insufficient, although Platon and Niko had far come to admire their pillowy softness against their dicks, his hands worked along the steel-hard flesh, gripping and relaxing, rubbing and caressing.

It took Platon the better part of his training as a soldier and a guard to not buck his hips, to stand still while his prince's gentle ministrations sent gouts of pleasure to the region between his legs. Deimos' mouth dipped below the medial ring, slowly sampling every available iota of Platon's engorged member. Sinking lower, and lower, and lower along the flesh until he reached its origin. A cheeky slip of the tongue into the now emptied pouch got a cry of pleasure from Platon, and Deimos giggled. Hefting the two orbs in his hands, he rolled them gently before releasing them. Soon, those virile spheres would bless him with their nectar.

As he repositioned himself, Deimos saw that a nectar of a different type was already dripping down Platon's length. A thin, clear globule of natural lubrication had spilled from the opening at the tip of the cock, and Deimos quickly ran a pert tongue across it, not wanting it to fall to the ground. This was his gift, and not Gaia's, though all he had managed to do was smear it along the bottom of the broad tip. That would soon be irrelevant, though, as Deimos did what few thought possible - he opened his mouth wide and pushed his lips against the flared head.

The sensation of a tight and willing hole against the tip of his member broke Platon's concentration, and his body took over for a moment. His instinct to rail the hole until it was full seized him, and he bucked his hips hard against the prince's mouth. There was a muffled grunt of surprise, but more importantly, there was the sudden relief of the resisting pressure, and the feeling of a warm, wet hole encircling his member's tip.

Deimos switched to breathing in through his nostrils as his mouth was filled with musky, semi-pliable flesh, vaguely salty from its home inside Platon's sheath and the little dribble of precum that had been released during their brief foreplay. This had the added benefit of filling his nostrils with the other male's arousal scent, one to which he succumbed almost immediately. Moving his head up and down, the sheer girth of his guard's rod made it impossible for him to do anything else but keep a tight seal of his lips on the flesh.

His tongue worked feverishly, lashing at the slit to gather more lubricating gel when available, and smearing it in a combination of spit and precum along the rest of the shaft as it pushed further and further into his mouth and towards his throat. Deimos moaned softly around the cock in his mouth, his hands working the remainder below the medial ring in an alternating rhythm.

It wasn't long at all before he felt that flat head starting to poke at the back of his throat. The rumors around the village were not wrong, Deimos had plenty of experience pleasuring and being pleasured by various males of the village, but he also knew enough not to let this phase of the act happen too soon. Especially not if Niko was expecting to make use of this same hole to vent his own lusts.

Platon was the gentler of the two by far, though, and so he managed to regain his composure and let the prince decide the pace of the fellatio. With nothing else to grab onto, Platon's hands wove through his own hair, his body starting to buzz with the sensation as he was noshed off by the royal princeling. His grunts and moans were all he could do to keep quiet though, lest cries of ecstasy betray their activity.

After a few minutes, and with his mouth thoroughly roughed by the passage of the thick, meaty equine member pistoning in and out of it, Deimos finally decided to bring their encounter to an end. Taking one deep breath inwards, he pushed down until he felt the equine head pressing against his throat. Relaxing it as best he could, he continued to push until he felt it finally, mercifully, pierce his secondary entrance.

Once inside, he swallowed on instinct, his body trying to clear his airway. This only made his throat muscles spasm and clench, massaging the sensitive tip as hard as it could in the even tighter confines. This proved too much for Platon's body to handle, and the feeling of penetrating the prince's throat sent him over the edge.

A blast of thick, creamy spunk bulged the prince's throat as it exited the thick tube of Platon's cock and entered Deimos' body. Platon was a virile male and the promise that his dangling balls made to Deimos was fulfilled in spades as a second shot followed by a third emptied almost directly into the prince's stomach. Deimos held it for as long as he could, his automatic reflexes milking the guard's orgasm dry before he had to pull the cock from his throat. His tongue ran along the sides as he pulled it from, begging for a taste of the delicious cum but finding only the phantom of the flavor behind. Perhaps he could convince Niko to fill his mouth rather than his throat, to taste the virility of another male on his tongue tonight. Either way, his time with Platon had reached its conclusion.

The cock came free with a wet popping sound, followed by the prince gasping for air. Removing himself from the tree branch, Platon quickly helped the other centaur to shaky hooves, apologizing profusely. Deimos long since gave up trying to convince his guards that there was nothing to apologize for when they put in him the state that they did - Niko didn't care and Platon wouldn't hear that he wasn't wrong. The ivory skin of the prince's form glistened with sweat as he nodded that he was, in fact, perfectly fine.

When offered a wineskin by Platon, he refused it - he enjoyed the taste in his mouth too much to dilute it with wine and he had enough liquid in his stomach for the moment. Instead, he patted Platon on the shoulder, signaling that he should go relieve Niko so that Deimos could...relieve Niko, in an entirely different manner.

Looking at his reflection for a moment, the prince couldn't help but relive his conversation with Aeros. He wasn't ashamed of who he was - enjoying the company of males over mares, and not desiring to be suffering solitude in a cold home built for two but ever occupying one. His frustration and the forethought of being cast aside one day were trampled under the sound of approaching hoofbeats. Turning, he smiled to Niko as the other guard bowed as low as he dared.

"Come Niko, let your prince show you how much he appreciates your service."