Fishblight Mire gold [m]

the palazzo, he had not forgotten it, nor the rich dark fish fragrance of the rivers, nor the profusion of red flowers that grew along the edge of placid streams. nor would he forget the bared teeth and threatening words that had separated him from his love, forced him to depart.

and now he stood in a land wet and reeking of mud and the dung of underwater things. why he had come this way, armand did not know, but he sought footing in the slough nevertheless, dragging himself through it.

on the opposite bank, he gave up a small cry, for he was quite a vain boy, and his fur only glinted beneath its new veil of thick, stinking muck. it was the final test of his already well worn psyche; armand cried silently as he began to search for water, not to drink but to bathe.

He explored a bit more, less for Winchester, and more for himself. He heard a pitiful sound, ears curling as he  sought the source only to find an auburn haired nymph - or so he assumed, so coated was he. Castiel peered at him curiously, coming to a stop nearby. "Are you hurt?" Castiel asked with his gravely voice, though it was not unkind. He was just curious, cautious. He did not want to make him uneasy. 

no water did he find, but a tall imposing brute, who seemed to appear from nowhere. armand quailed, then recovered himself, standing upright beneath his mud-bath cloak. he met the eyes of the other seemingly without fear, but deep within him, he knew not what the other would do, this great muscled thing with legs that appeared twice the width of his own and a proud neck so thickly ruffed in velveteen chocolate.

the eyes -- they pierced the slight body and shivered him through with an emotion he did not recognize immediately as desire, but it came clear soon to him, and his lips curved in an wan smile. "water?" armand asked, ears swiveling forward though he were no more than a wide-eyed doe, and his accent nestling the syllables snugly within the recesses of his throat.

He was so far from home, his ward left in the capable hands of Deirdre while he spent the day by himself. It had seen him through many places - beautiful places, but he did not stop. Ultimately he was lead to the young male in his muck and mire, the dredges of the world still not enough to mask the beauty he could see within the chestnut colored male. He seemed so tiny, this little waif of a beast but there was in him still fire. Castiel could feel it. "Water? I believe I passed a lake.. " Castiel was unsure how much it might help the male to clean him up. 

" Would company interest you? I could escort you... "  It seemed like the polite thing to do, after all and he was interested in being polite. Nothing more, he told himself. 

the man spoke and the boy nodded, not bothering to hide his eagerness. he did not answer, but moved to the side of the darkfurred brute. if he could have water, he could wash away the filth that clung to him and thus find the footing he possessed only in acknowledgement of his beauty. and so he waited to be led away, trusting as the child he so fiercely resembled.

He did not receive an answer but many times Castiel was more comforted by silence than he was conversation. Conversations opened him up and exposed his weaknesses, he was often found tasting the bottom of his own paw. He did not mean to say the things he did, not directly, but, his wording was faulty at best. All too often Castiel learned of his mistakes too late. With a slight nod the male lead the smaller wolf north, further away towards the body of water he'd passed. His own paws ended up caked in mud, the color in some spots the same shade as his body already. He was eager to clean up though, immediately wading up to his shoulders in the water. 

He looked to his companion, curious about him although he did not want to pry. "I am Castiel," He offered, deep voice still laden with curiosity he could not temper. The male had seemed genuinely upset, and Castiel was unsure why - perhaps he had gotten lost in the muck, which would understandably frustrate anyone. 

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armand followed alongside the strongman, slightly behind, ready to leap away at the first tightening of muscles that signalled a threat. as they moved, however, the boy found his eyes drawn to the ochre and red-orange of the dying leaves round them and underfoot, stark against the cheery azure of the sky. what a place this way -- his love would have breathed new life at the colour armand now beheld.
the boy's head came up as the clean clear scent of water came to him, and he marvelled at its expanse. yet he shivered at the sight of his comrade sliding into the lake, his broad shoulders cutting a swathe though its surface. the man spoke, and armand followed, though he did not yet answer. ears thrust forward, the boy dipped his paw into the water and let his tongue dart to taste it, before gritting his teeth and entering the lake after his comrade.
he gasped, auds folding back against his skull, but began to sluice water over his muddy fur, noting in disgust how the muck spread out around him in a n unappealing halo. "armand," he said gently, looking to castiel as his lips trembled with the cold.[/td][/tr][/table]

Armand. It was not a name that Castiel had heard before and yet none had heard his name, strange as it was. It was partially why he'd taken to Cas, and in other fonder memories, it was a nickname that once had bloomed affection in him. Now he could not quite find it in himself to trust the memories he had of Winchester, the man leaving him behind without a second thought. Castiel silenced the thoughts in his head by dipping briefly below the surface of the water only to emerge again near immediately, the chill a much needed distraction. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Armand."  his deep voice still tried to caress the syllables of Armand's name, using a surprising amount of finesse. 

He could see the reaction the male had to the muck and mire on his coat, wondering if that was what had truly upset him so. It was hard to fathom someone being so upset by some dirt, but then, some truly detested any affront to cleanliness. When Castiel was clean enough he lifted himself from the lake and went a few paces from the shore to shake the water from his body. 

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castiel was lovely as any earthen hue the master of the palazzo had ever painted, each guard hair shaded in chocolate and ecru. while armand did not gaze openly upon his companion, the roll of muscles beneath the waters did not go unnoticed, nor the sonorous vibration of the man's words through the lovely column of his throat.
armand, ears falling back against the delicate lines of his skull, nodded then, unsure of what to say. it was not a matter of a barrier to his tongue; he knew well the language in which castiel spoke, but armand did not know if he wished to to answer. there remained in the boy a great chasm of wariness, tempered with the flint of anger that his fleeing had wrought in him.
before he could dwell upon these things, castiel lifted himself up from the water, and armand watch the lake stream in a clear sheet from the man's withers, from his legs and hips and through the dark tangle of pelt between his legs. the boy swallowed and looked down at the surface of the lake -- why did he act this way so soon after he had lost all he held dear?
he supposed it had been fucked into him, and this gave armand a thin bit of pleasure as he too came from the lake. its touch forced his own furs down against his body, that castiel might see the outline of all his bones, the slim, girlish spread of his hindquarters and slender waist tucked up before.
armand pretended that he did not care if the man looked as he fell to meticulous grooming, washing lakewater from each individual hair until at long last his dried cloak began to glow with the light above the pair as if armand were covered in the golden coins of his dowry, paid almost to death for a marriage that would have meant his end.
the boy parted his lips to speak, but his stomach rushed to the fore with its disgusting sound of emptiness, and armand's ears again splayed backward with shame. he need not speak now, castiel knew his weakness.



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Castiel would lie to himself if he was to suggest that Armand was not beautiful. He was delicate, shapely, enchanting in appearance and the mystery of his silence  - something Castiel found in so few people - was equally baffling and comforting. Castiel had always been a man of few words at most times, choosing actions over the easily confusing lilt of voice and song. To wonder if Armand was similar to him only made him want to know the man more and he couldn't help the way his brow furrowed for a moment. 

It was a struggle to pull his blue eyes away, feeling suddenly exposed as he knew it was probably easy to be caught watching as the man's coat yielded hues he'd never seen before - for a brief moment he was so bright and so brilliant it even outshined Winchester. Win was rough around the edges, darkness lurking in him that drew Castiel in like a moth to a flame. It hurt, though, to think of him, to ponder him, and Castiel had never allowed himself to drown the way he longed to. 

Call it penance, call it his own perdition, but he was chained and bound. The sounds drew his eyes again and Castiel paused, frowning as he looked over the man. "Relax, let me help." He offered, needing nothing for himself - he could tell the man had been through a great deal. "I will return." He didn't wait - didn't let himself, lest he make an even more damning mistake in being around the man - and took off to find some herbs to help settle his stomach and a small meal. 

When he came back he only hoped the male was still present, the small bundle of plants held carefully in his teeth along with the hare.

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yes -- armand felt castiel gazing upon him, felt the pressure of the other's confused gaze, knew that he had awakened a want in the swarthy wolf not so easily denied. here was his witchcraft -- his dark magick, spun into him by his maker; he was a jewel meant to warm the hands of those who held him, and held often he was. a jewel, a brilliant gem, but cold. there had been but one man who ever touched the core of the auburn-haired child, and it was a name he could not even speak.
armand watched as castiel departed, and was still for the duration of the time that he was alone, stilling himself save for the slight trembling of his bony limbs. and when the man reappeared, he brought with him sweet herbs and the rich scent of blood. armand's body responded to this, and when castiel had presumably allowed him to have the meat, the boy lay it upon the earth, and licked gently the velveteen fur, and sniffed at the herbs.
"you have bathed me. you have fed me. what is it you want?" armand inquired in a cold purr, accented with the tones of the palazzo, a melodic upswing to his words, and here he drew near to castiel, until only a scant few inches of space separated them, and he could look up with his clear chestnut gaze into the haunting eyes of the strongman. "is it i?" armand whispered, lashes fluttering slightly as he extended his muzzle, a whisper upon his lips. "i would think it foolish if you did not take your payment, castiel."[/tr][/td][/table]

He watched to see if that was agreeable to Armand, if he prefered something else or not. He might have balked, tried to get something else for him, even though he was an unknown but Castiel's bleeding heart seemed to need to help the man. Still, there was the desire in him that he did not understand exactly, something else calling to him and he wasn't sure he wanted to explore it. He wasn't sure it was appropriate to explore it. Castiel set the pair down and stepped back to give Armand freedom to do as he pleased, wanting the male to be as settled and eat in peace. 

He moved his tongue across the soft fur and Castiel was transfixed, his heartbeat increased. He swallowed thickly, casting his eyes away. The question might have brought a heat to his cheeks if his fur was lighter, thinner, instead he tried to swallow it back. It was even harder to think with the male so close to him, his scent so rich - luxurious, and it opened in Castiel a great fount of need. 

"I...I need nothing from you," He tried to sound convincing, tried to ignore the urge to pull him close, to just take and hold as he pleased. "You are not an item for barter." He said, though he did not move away, did not dare move at all.

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the man spoke in a gruff voice that betrayed the tumult within him, behind the piercing colour of his eyes, and armand's own roved over the powerful masculine features with a languidness that could not be mistaken. "let me be the judge of such things," the boy murmured, his voice a sussuration that warmed the tousle of terra-cotta hues beneath the other's chin. and here he parted his lips until only the tip of his tongue dared to stroke the underside of castiel's chin, in a submissive gesture branching into two implications.
he drew away in the next moment, and lay down as gracefully as he was able upon the cold grasses. the trembling began again, but armand was able to concentrate it only into his limbs, and wrapped his plume across his flank, and waited with a small cool smile for castiel to surrender.[/tr][/td][/table]

Castiel did not fear man. He had been through worse than what the golden child could do to him. He feared feeling though, after what he'd felt for Winchester and then the betrayal the dark male had done to him. Not only to help orchestrate the attack on his pack and family but to leave him? He could not say he felt anything for Armand, even as the male offered himself. He felt concern, he felt a desire to tend to him, but that was where it ended. Where it would have to end. 

Still his lips parted and a soft sigh left his maw when Armand's gentle touch stroked the fires he tampered down in himself. He felt it, the desire, the tension growing in him. But Armand drew away and he relaxed minimally as he watched the boy settle on the ground. For a moment he trembled, quivering and Castiel was drawn closer again, nuzzling briefly against the base of one ear, down to his scruff. "Are you cold?" He asked, laying his larger frame next to Armand's golden body. 

He dared not touch properly, not as he truly wanted to, because he suspected if he did he wouldn't want to stop.

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the man lay down alongside armand under the flimsy guise of care; this amused the boy, for why would castiel not admit to what he wanted? he was prepared to pay this price, to lay the silver coins of his fleshliness across the palms of this strong and sable creature. "yes," armand whispered, turning in a tangle of slim limbs to sling a foreleg 'round castiel's muscular shoulders. "when i was put to work in the bed of scarlet, i was taught to turn no desire aside, but where others merely tolerated their abuses, i welcomed them."
"indeed, castiel, whatever you wish -- i am all the world, and all the world may now be yours, for the price of greenery and blood." a feral smile crossed his muzzle; the hint of glistening white teeth beneath his lip, and he sighed in an exhale that was the surrendering of himself to it all -- to death, to winter, to castiel.[/tr][/td][/table]

When Armand touched him it made a shiver run down Castiel's spine. Oh, it wasn't for lack of want - he wanted things he knew nothing about, he wanted things he had grown up being told wasn't right. Things that he had no rights to. "You do not know of what you ask," Castiel said, gravely voice softening just a bit - it had to be his age. Maybe that was why he gave so much more than he had to. "I do not have to use you." He said, trying to show strength in his resistance. 

How sad would it be to admit to him that he was so woefully inexperienced that he didn't know exactly he was to take the gift offered to him. He didn't want to disappoint but he also didn't want to take advantage. The closer that Armand got to him the more aware he'd be that he'd essentially pushed the male against a rock and a very hard place. 

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"oh, but i do, and i wish you to do so" armand whispered. "fight me no more." it was a firm decree, an edict predicated upon the want that the boy sought to engender in the man. this was all he knew! his trade! he plied it well, but beneath it there was a genuine want to stave off the chaotic thoughts in his mind, save for those that focused him upon wringing pleasure from another warm body, and castiel's resistance only fed armand until he rose upon on one shoulder and looked down upon the man. "i want you to lie still," the child commanded, and this time he felt as if the other would comply.[/tr][/td][/table]

He was so fierce! Armand was so small, so young and yet he spoke to Castiel as a father would, instructing him to do as he wished and to lay still. Castiel leveled his blue eyes on the golden child, drinking in the look from his chestnut eyes. He was fearless, when Castiel would near cower under the weight of the emotions that Armand brought out in him. "Tell me what you would do." Because Castiel was unsure and needed the guidance - but he did not know if he wanted to relax fully and let Armand do as he pleased. Still, the male did not move or shift, he did not do anything yet. 

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"i would much prefer to show you, castiel," armand murmured slyly, and here he rose up above the great dark man, so that his legs straddled the other's body, and began to lay soft kisses along the wolf's chest, pressing down into the plush furs. when he had reached the other's sternum, armand paused and glanced into the other's eyes, reading there the story of castiel's trepidation. "i shall not tell you the word for this, for it is very crude," he laughed, "but trust me; you will enjoy it." 
the auburn child did not think that the other would believe him, and so held himself still, awaiting confirmation, his eyes and small smile teasing. it was unlike him to wait! he wished to take castiel roughly and do all manner of things to the man older and far more innocent than he.[/tr][/td][/table]

Perhaps Castiel was naive, but one could not say he was innocent. He had bled and killed in the war of his homeland, battled wolves he once called brothers and sisters who had turned against their flock. Innocent could never again describe him, not after the great fall of his honor - even though he felt he had done what was right. Now in the quiet of his mind was the memory of the last one to draw those feelings out in him - a sharp desire, the slow smolder of passion. He had not followed through, because of betrayal and fear alike, but who was Armand to him? He was a stranger, some figment drawn from a dream to tempt and teach him. 

The kisses made Castiel close his eyes, a soft sort of surrender all in its own. Armand did not harm him, moving gently and slowly - even as he admitted how crude the thing be was planning was. This made Castiel open his eyes, peering up at the smaller male. The sly smile on his face was only more enchanting and Castiel swallowed thickly. "You should smile more - you look better that way." What was in truth a compliment - maybe even a weak misguided attempt at flirtation - was delivered in Castiel's usual awkward way, even if he didn't mean it to be unkind. Still, Castiel did not move or rise against Armand, allowing the Golden boy to do as he pleased. 

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"there is little left about which i can smile, castiel," armand retorted, briefly annoyed that the man would press him to such, but all at once the irritation faded and a wink replaced it. "be quiet," the child commanded, enjoying his new role of dominance over the great strongman, and settled between the other's thighs to do as he had been taught.
when he arose some minutes later, it was with a laugh and a jest about the other's volume, as it were; armand sat placidly upon his haunches and watched the other with eyes that burned, for his own lust had not been sated. "what did you think of that?"[/tr][/td][/table]