Ga'Hoolian Passion
Ga'Hoolian Passion
A Guardians of Ga'Hoole fanfiction
DISCLAIMER!
I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, OR PLACES MENTIONED WITHIN THIS STORY. ALL WERE WRITTEN BY KATHRYN LASKY
THIS STORY CONTAINS ADULT MATERIAL NOT SUITABLE FOR READERS UNDER 18.
The Great Ga'Hoole Tree was in full bloom at this time of the Silver Rain. The Pure ones had been vanquished, and as far as Soren knew, peace once more reigned in the owl kingdoms. All was well.
And for Soren all was very well. He had been in Glaumora on earth these past few months. After all of the things he had been through, even when he first arrived at the Great Tree, nothing compared to the happiness he felt when he gazed upon a new owl at the Tree. Pellimore.
It had all started about two months ago. There had been a forest fire all the way out in the Kingdom of Tyto. Early reports indicated nothing big; just a routine colliering flight. Normally, the weather chaw wouldn't have gone so far out for a forest fire, but since the White Rain still had its icy teeth sunk into the land, forest fires were hard to come by.
When the chaw had arrived, everything had been going well. There were plenty of bonk coals to be collected, and no one could fly through forest fires like the weather chaw. Soren imagined Bubo, the Tree's blacksmith, would find their loot very useful in his various crafts. Ezylryb even seemed pleased. When they went back to the bucket to deposit the coals, he always had a dirty joke to dispense. Even Otulissa laughed.
Then Soren heard a peculiar sound. It was a soft screech, so imperceptible, even Soren wasn't sure he heard it. He tilted his head this way and that, using his facial disk to funnel the sound to his ears. He heard it again. It was an owl, a Barn Owl. Soren was sure of it.
He followed the screech east, to a tall oak that's trunk was engulfed in flames. Up in a hollow about sixty feet up, he saw a flash of a white face. A Barn Owl. She was trying to escape, but curtains of flame rose and fell as branches burned around her. She tried to launch herself from the hollow, but the confusing updrafts generated from the heat caused her to slam into a burning branch. She ducked back into the hollow before the branch broke and fell on her.
Soren spread his wings and raced toward her. Maneuvering the chaotic air currents masterfully, he hovered in front of her hollow. "Come with me!" he shouted over the roar of the fire.
With one glance at his face, she recoiled. "No! You're a Pure One!"
"No, I'm a Guardian! You have to come with me now!"
Soren didn't have time for this. With the way the flames were spreading up the trunk, this tree would fall in a matter of minutes.
"Go to Hagsmire, Pure One!" she spat in his face.
This wasn't working. Soren entered the hollow. "Take my talon," he said. "I can carry you out of here!"
"No!" she cried. She batted his foot aside and followed up with a heavy smack to his face, sending him sprawling.
How could he convince her that he was a Guardian of Ga'Hoole? What could make her believe him?
"Believe," he thought. "I know what made me believe."
And so he began reciting the Fire Cycle, the Ga'Hoolian legends of Grank and the first Colliers. His voice pierced the sound of the fire with a deep passion, and the young female was transfixed. She stopped after he had said a full paragraph or two, word for word.
"Quite an appropriate selection, given our situation," she said.
"Then follow me, and do what I say, as soon as I say it, and you'll be out of here in no time." She nodded and the two exited the hollow.
"Down!" he said as soon as they went out. A mighty downdraft descended upon them, but they flew lower, and the draft dissipated before it slammed into them.
"Port!" he called. The two banked and deftly avoided a coming fuel ladder.
So it went. Soren read the flames and called out to the young female. She flew beautifully.
In a few moments that seemed like a lifetime, the two were perched in a fir on the edge of a small river, outside the range of the blaze.
"Smooth flying," she said to him.
"Thanks," he said. "I'm Soren."
"Pellimore," she replied. "But you can call me Pelli."
"Pelli," he said under his breath. Now that he could get a good look at her, he realized just how beautiful she was. The feathers on her face and breast were a soft, creamy white and her wings curved sensuously into her sides. She looked gorgeous, like a soft summer breeze or the tapestries he had seen at the Tree.
Since Pelli had no home at this point, Soren offered to take her to the Tree. As soon as she layed eyes on its great branches, she never ceased to be amazed by its wonders. One of her favorite places was the library.
The only problem was that, being previously unaware of the Tree and less educated, she did not know how to read, but she longed to. She confessed this longing to Soren, and he offered to teach her. They spend hours upon hours every night pouring over books. The rest of Soren's friends could see how utterly smitten he was, but said nothing, waiting for the romance to unfold.
And, slowly, it did. Each night he spent with her, he began to notice more. How soft her feathers were, how her eyes had an amber glint to them, and how attractive her scent was, like hazelnuts. Soon, everything about her became attractive, from her laugh to the different way she thought about the characters in the books they read. The memory of their meeting was another point of attraction. It showcased her fighting spirit, level headedness, and calm confidence.
And Pelli began to notice things about Soren, too. At first, the various nicks, scars, and burns that marred his handsome face, the ones he had sustained from battle and a life of diving into fires looked brutish to her. But when she asked about them, he told them of his heroics in a very modest way. Each rugged mark was a reminder of all the good he had done, and she could see that he was more than most owls. She couldn't place it, there was something about him that drew her to him.
Soren knew this about her. The way she touched him told him her feelings, and the way his heart pounded made his own feelings perfectly clear to himself.
It had taken a while for him to come to a decision, though. A mate was an awfully big decision, but after counseling Gylfie, Mrs. P, and even Ezylryb, he decided to make his move, especially now that it was mating season for Barn Owls.
After a few days, he had worked up the nerve to make his proposal, and despite his nervousness, he was still in Glaumora. He was almost certain she would say yes, and the thought of being with her overrode any of his anxieties.
He wandered into the library. It was early in the morning, and the last few owls were shuffling out. Pellimore remained at her table, pouring over a book, as usual.
"What are you reading?" he asked as he approached her.
"It's a romance story. Primrose recommended it to me. Honestly, I didn't think I'd like it, but it's very good."
"Maybe we could read it together," he offered.
"I don't think you'd like it. It's so gooey and mushy. Hardly your kind of book."
"I can understand romance," he said quietly, placing a talon over hers. She looked up at him and gazed into his eyes. She got the hint, but what would she do?
Without a word, she closed the book and put it back on the shelf. "What are you thinking, right now?" he asked her.
"Just about the book," she answered as she released a deep breath. Turning to him, she said, "It makes love seem so glorious, I can't even imagine what it would be like to feel that much for another owl. It's overwhelming. I can't even imagine..." she repeated, looking down.
He placed a talon underneath her face and gazed once more into her dark eyes with a hint of amber. "I think I can show you, if you'd allow me."
She paused for a moment, the gravity of his veiled proposal hitting her hard. She looked away, as if searching for an answer, then back again, her beak agape. Then, she drew a wingtip across his face lovingly, drawing strength from his confident expression.
"I'd love to," she said in barely a whisper.
She pressed herself close to Soren, and he placed his wings around her tenderly. She buried her beak into the feathers on his neck, smothering herself in him. He closed his eyes, feeling her heartbeat, her breathing, every aspect of her. Never before was he this close to her.
"Come," Soren said. He led her out of the library, and with a knowing but happy gleam in her eyes, she followed.
Owls did not have complex procedures for claiming another as mates. The male merely proposed, and if the female accepted, the two would mate, and that was that. Word would spread, and then the two were official.
Soren couldn't go to his hollow, because he shared it with the rest of his closest friends, but Pelli's hollow had been empty since she came. When they arrived, Soren slowly opened the door, allowing Pellimore inside before him. She drew a curtain of moss over the sky port that led outside the tree, and Soren found a string of milkberries and placed them over the doorknob, a universal symbol that two owls were occupied with one another.
The hollow was considerably dimmer, but strands of sunlight still peered through the moss curtain, dappling Pelli's head with spots of gold. Soren's breath came faster. Never had she looked lovelier.
He approached her slowly. He ran his beak through the feathers all over her body, the closest an owl could come to a kiss. She gasped sharply. She had been preened before, but this was much more passionate, much more intense. She preened Soren back, feeling his lean but strong muscles, his silky feathers, and she could hear his soft moans as his sweet breath washed over her face.
Soren leaned down and whispered into Pellimore's ear, "Are you ready, my love?"
She leaned in and whispered back, "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"So have I," he said. Pellimore slowly lowered herself onto her back and spread her legs apart, revealing her pink vent. The look in her eyes conveyed nothing but trust.
Soren breathed sharply at the sight of it, and the tip of his pink member slowly slid out. He drew closer to her, and lowered himself. He could even feel the heat radiating off of her vagina. He could almost feel her readiness.
With a foot, she slowly drew the back of a talon against his cock. Never before had anyone else touched his penis, and even the slight contact sent a jolt through him.
More of his thick malehood slipped out, now growing painfully erect. Even if both of the two were virgins, Pellimore somehow knew that Soren was quite large, and she imagined what it would be like for him to penetrate her, to feel that glorious stretch.
Soren wanted to feel it, too, but Pelli got a mischievous look on her face. Seeing as how it was their first time, she wanted to prolong the act and make it special. After all, it wasn't often she was in a position to drive a stud like Soren crazy with desire.
Pelli grasped his firm member, and Soren moaned loudly. She wasn't quite sure what to do from there, but she let instinct guide her, and she slowly moved her talons along the shaft, now slick with a coating of his thick precum.
"Oh, Pelli," he half gasped, half moaned. She quickened her pace a little, now pumping his cock. He shut his eyes tightly and his face turned upward as his beak clenched with pleasure.
Soren wasn't about to let himself blow his load like this, though, and he didn't want to leave Pelli out of the loop of the incredible pleasure he was feeling. Deciding that his talons were too sharp, he lowered a wing as Pelli stroked him and placed the tip inside of her vent.
Pelli hadn't been expecting this, and she moaned loudly in surprise, pausing her work on Soren's cock. This brief delay gave Soren the manual dexterity to move his wingtip inside of her, rubbing the thin feather shafts all over the inside of the moist opening. His primaries tickled and stimulated her most sensitive spots, and she moaned in passion at the ministrations, attempting to keep her hand moving along Soren's penis.
As they pleasured each other, it became more difficult to focus on pleasuring each other. Soren could only wiggle his wing inside of her as he bucked his hips into Pellimore's hand, cascading precum coating her talons. Pelli was also numb with pleasure, only able to grasp Soren's throbbing cock as he thrust.
Soren decided that he could deny himself her body no longer, and he broke away from her grasp, lowering his cocktip to her opening. Even though he barely grazed her lips with his member, he could feel the moist, hot vent that was so ready to accept him.
Before he entered, though, he caught Pellimore's gaze once more as she stared up at the male that loomed over her. No words were said; they merely nodded to each other in passion.
With that, Soren thrust his maleness deep inside his new mate, claiming her as his own.
Sharp, loud moans ripped from both beaks as their genitals met in a wet, gooey squish. Soren was only about halfway in, but Pelli could already feel her vagina stretching to accommodate her new husband's girth.
Soren felt incredible. With every beat of Pellimore's heart, her vent, hot and wet, squeezed his length. He grit his beak again and briefly shut his eyes, wanting nothing more than to thrust wildly inside her, to hear her call his name in ecstasy. He fought the urge to fuck her gizzard out, though, opting for a steady rhythm to acquaint themselves with this new horizon of pleasure and passion.
He pumped his malehood in and out, thrusting forcefully enough to make Pellimore gasp and moan, yet gently enough so as not to hurt her. His cock became slick with their juices, and the more he thrust, the more her vagina squeezed around him, causing him to cry out in pleasure as well.
Soon, Pelli was thrusting against him, his cock now almost slipping out of her vent only to be rammed back into her needy pussy. Their crotches were wet with sticky fluids, but it was impossible to separate Soren's copious precum with Pelli's natural lubrications. Soren slowly ramped up the pacing of his thrusts, seeing how fast he could go without hurting her.
To Pelli, every hard thrust of Soren's throbbing erection only made her wish him to go faster, to take her as forcefully as she had been dreaming of. Yet, in every hard thrust, she could feel his passion for her, and with every deep, male hoot of a moan she could tell how long he had wanted her in every possible way.
Soren was close, he could tell. His cock felt as hard as steel and her vent was squeezing the rod tighter with every thrust. Each one of his breaths was becoming a throaty groan of passion, and Pelli's moans became high-pitched whines of need. She was close as well.
Pelli only wanted more, though. She wanted to feel him in every way, and as he thrust into her, mind-numbing pleasure racing throughout her vent, she couldn't help but beg him for more. "Ah, Soren. Take me. Give it all to me," she said in a steamy voice.
Hearing her call to him in this way sent another jolt through his cock. He was right on the edge now, and he wagered that she was, too. He wanted to oblige, yet he was going as fast as he could already; he couldn't thrust any more forcefully into her without hurting her.
Whether her begging inspired his passion or ignited a deep, carnal instinct, he swung his powerful wings down and hoisted her up, holding her off the ground, her face above his as he thrust even more quickly into her. She wrapped her wings around his neck, holding him tightly as he mated her. She could feel every powerful muscle in his chest, wings, back, and hips tighten with every movement. He was a machine.
Now Pelli and Soren were both moaning uncontrollably. It felt like flames of intense pleasure were welling up within Soren's loins, and he knew just how incredibly close he was. He could feel her orgasm looming as well, as her vent tightened around his malehood as she gasped, unable to even moan.
Soren braced himself by biting down on her shoulder, just enough to steady himself, yet not enough to hurt. He closed his eyes, and every muscle tightened. So close...
Pellimore leaned down, her own eyelids closed tight with pleasure. Somehow, she was able to whisper ever so softly into his ear a single word of pure love, passion, lust, need, and an indicator of her pleasure. "Soren."
When he heard her breathe his name, something triggered inside of him. It felt as if a fire of pure ecstasy were rushing through his loins, and Pelli couldn't even find the ability to make another noise as her orgasm began to take her.
With loud, sharp cries of passion and euphoria, the two climaxed together. Soren erupted into Pellimore. His hips bucked irregularly as he squeezed his wings around her, his seed spurting from his maleness deep into her depths, plenty of the thick semen leaking out onto the hollow floor below. Pelli's head jerked up, her beak and eyes wide open, her hips bucking sporadically against him as much as the position allowed. Tiny squeaks of pleasure escaped from her beak as her vagina contracted violently around Soren's thick cock, every spurt of semen and every contraction denied by her filled vent forcing white-hot pleasure through their veins.
Many moments later, Soren's ejaculation slowed to only a trickle, and Pellimore found herself in control of her muscles again. The couple felt very tired, even a little faint, but they managed to chuckle in between gasping breaths and run their beaks through each other's necks in their passionate afterglow.
Soren withdrew himself with a quiet, gasping moan from both parties, and some of his essence splattered to the hollow floor. He carried Pellimore over to her nest and gently lay her down, gazing into her eyes again as she gazed back, their faces both masks of tired but satisfied pleasure and passion.
The two were unable to resist the temptation of sleep, and they preened each other's faces and necks for a while longer before Pelli buried her head into Soren's neck and he wrapped his wing around her tenderly.
Even though the moon would rise soon, and even though many owls had no doubt heard their passionate cries, had seen the telltale string of milkberries and would be curious, and even though both were eager to announce their coupling, all of it would have to wait until the sleeping mates awoke later that evening.
Neither would awake for quite some time, as their seperate dreams, passions, and hearts had finally united into one.