Play Minstrel Play.........

[Merelan]

I tiurned and let my fall of hair hide my face. He was a charmer, nad i would have to watch it or I would fall for his words.

Yet....

he seemed sincere.

Outside the bakery I looked in, there was Lucas.

"maybe." But he looked up, his eyes lighting up, I waved. Thenhe saw Francis. Scowling he hid his look and turned to the shelf.
Slipping in I waited my turn and took the bag he offered. trying to make him smile, to know I was his friend. But his eyes would not leave Francis. Lucas was slow, had been since he had returned from his turn in the services. but he was sweet and gentle. I did not wish to hurt his feelings.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

'It seems the lad's a bit jealous of me. He likes Lyra quite a bit. I wonder if I could assist with that auld head injury.
'Well only one way to find out I guess and he's basicly a good man so why not give it a try for him,' he thinks to himself.

I asked the Gods to help "Lucas" and restore his mind to what it was before the injury and when he reached out to hand a bag of bread to Lyra took his hand and shook it as I said I was very pleased to meet a good man and friend of Lyra's. Now only time would tell if the Gods were listening or would choose to help the lad.

"Mmmmmm, smells marvelous in here doesn't it. I so enjoy the smell of fresh baked bread and things.
"Lucas do you have any sweet rolls I could buy?"

 

[Merelan]

"Lucus makes delicious sweet rolls and he won't tell me his secret ingediant, will you?" Pleading again, truly they were special, though I had long ago figured out the special spices. But he liked to think no one knew. It made him proud.

But today he acted different, distant. I put it down to Francis being there. He handed us the rolls, took my coins, as I pushed aside Francis and we left.
Again the sun was brilliant, but in the distant there was a storm coming.

"We better head back, or we will be caught up in the storm, and while I don't mind a little rain, lately the storms have been wicked." Leading him ahead.

"I just want to stop and get some wine."

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

"Ahhh the nectar of the gods and favored of Dionysus. Lead the way my dear," he says beaming and licking his lips at the prospect of a good wine.

 

[Merelan]

I stayed outside as he bought the wines and bundled up what we had bought.
Then back we headed, the storm that had threatened was moving in fast. If we hurried we would beat it, maybe.
But weighted down with our goods slwed us, and the sprinkle started.
"I hope you don't mind getting wet dear." Knowing how quickly it would be torrential. Shifting the bags of spice and tucking them into my blouse, tying it tighter to protect them even more from damp. Blushing as I see him watching.

The air stilled suddenly and the winds shifted. I smelled the air, but only rain was on it this night. Thank the heavens.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

He mutters softly to himself, "Lucky spices. Wish it was me." as he takes off his cloak and drapes it over your shoulders.

"No arguement now. It will keep you warm and dry and I'm just fine. The rain will cool me off Lrya. That cloak does get a trifle hot you know," he says as he looks up and around at the sky.

"We might want to pick up the pace a bit. This will be a good storm when it breaks and it will likely last the night a tomorrow too."

 

[Merelan]

As he spoke it hit, the wind was terrific. We had minutes before the rain hit. But I loved the wind, and did not fight it.
Standing tall and leaning into it, letting it tear my hair out and about me, his cloak swirling and catching at his legs as he reached to steady me.

The power in a storm was wild and uncontrolled, like I so wished to be. Laughing I faced the sky and inhaled. Taking the wind into me and laughing yet more. Then demurly I tucked the cloak closer and pulled myself together. He would think you a wild thing.

Why should I care what he thought though. He would leave soon, and again I would go on with my happy life. Safe nd secure, and alone, alone, alone alone.....

But not now, not this night.

The wind grew stronger and I could not help but smile, tucking a secret in my heart. Storms and wildness, nature's beauty was so arousing. It thrilled me to the bone to be out here. But instead of holding my arms open to it, I huddled close under his cloak. Inhaling. The spices gave off a rich scent, and the musk of him lingered in the cloak, with campfires and other places. Places wild and unfettered, strange and bewildering.

Places I would never see, never know. Sighing again. Lifting my head I let the wind whip and take me. Knowing my hair would be a tangle, and I must look a fright. And not caring.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, the Wanderer:

"Hurry along Lyra. Let's get the goods in before it rains and then, if you'll trust me I have a gift for you, a surprise, but it will take your trust that nothing will occur you don't want."

He hustles the two of you to your place and inside where you both laugh as you unload all of the things from town as you chat and laugh.

All finished he turns you to him, cups and lifts your face and looks very deeply into your eyes then says quietly, "Lyra, will you give me your trust.
"I will promise nothing will happen unless you wish it to but your trust is needed for my gift to you for you can't receive it in here and you can't receive it clothed. We both must be nude to embrace the gift I would share with you lovely, wild storm spirit woman."

 

[Merelan]

Nude? With him? A man? A stranger? As he cupped my chin and made me face him, our eyes met. I shivered and shook, frightened.

My lips started the no, but my spirit cried out. The storm was raging now. remembering his gentleness with the creature, and his concern with my friend. Was that all a ploy to get me?

Do not flatter yourself Lyra. He is handsome enough in his wildness to attract many woman, younger, more sensual ones. Not for you is loving anymore. Buried in the gorund with your husband lay your sex.

His eyes forced me to answer, so powerful in their look.

My throat dry, my lips suddenly felt cracked. Licking them I pulled away. But I could not speak. I turned my back and opened my cloak, his cloak, letting it drop to the ground. Then my fingers started at my ties, in their nervousness unable to get at them. Knotted and wet now. Yanking in frustration, snapping them in haste.
Pulling it over my head and hugging it to me, then it too joined the cloak. I felt him behind me. Not speaking, not moving. Just there.
I blushed as I tried to let go, then with a quick twist the belt was free and my skirt was falling, pooled at my ankles. Only a thin chemise covering me now.
A wild howl outside and the shutters blew open, rain coming through the open windows.
I rushed without thought to close them, soaking myself in the process, he too was helping. Pulling against the wind to latch them. His hand covered mine as we reached for the last at the same time. Our eyes me and I blushed, dropping my head.
For the chemise was soaked and lay tight against my skin. Out lining it. My hair must be a fright. Backing away I reached for a blanket, but his hand took my arm, stopping me.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

"No sweet and lovely Lyra. It's not needed I assure you.
"Now remove the chimese and I too will undress. Then I can take you out into the storm for the surprise gift I've promised you lovely Lyra."

He steps back and sits to pull off his boots then stands and undresses slowly and methodically, with no hint of shame or embarrassment at all, just as if it's the most natural thing in the world to do.

His spreads out the clothing wet by the blowing rain and lights a fire so that there'll be warmth for later and to dry his clothing too.
As he does all of this he's humming a song, an unfamiliar one, or is it.

It makes you think of happy times and also the wildness of the storm outside and the heat and warmth of the fire all at one time. It's a song of wildness and contentment, of happy times and closeness, oneness with nature and companionship and more.

 

[Merelan]

I stand shivering, but am not cold. My back to him, I hear him. His movements like a cat, his humming bringing to mind a wildness, a calmness, a love, a soothing, a bewitching.
The storm is wilder, as if in response to him humming. He is, he is humming in tune, in time with the wind.
Or is it storming in tune to him?
Wild thoughts, and feelings make me shiver more.

I feel him behind me, close, his breathign near my ear. Nervous and frightened by him, and this feeling. yet, calm inside. My heart soothed by his low hum.

Then his hand is on my shoulder, not grasping, or sensual. Just there. Firm and strong.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

The song continues as he gives your shoulder a light squeeze and then the hand slides down your arm to your hand and it's squeezed lightly before it's used to turn you to face him.

"Will you trust me Lyra?" he asks looking into your eyes, "Will you remove it and come with me into the storm?" and the humming begins again as he awaits your reply.

 

[Merelan]

Again I start to say no, but I am stopped. The humming seems to come alive on it's own, as if it is not him.
Eyes locked I lift my free hand and untie the neck. Then blushing again I pull it slowly from me, knowing he is looking, and yet, not.
For his eyes seem unfocused, as if he is already out in the storm.

A howl and clap of thunder and I shiver. The tiny hairs on my arm prickling as I drop it to the floor. Then stand. Trying not to look at his nudity, and trying to ignore mine.

It has been so long since i have seen a man, that I fear I will disappoint him and stare.
He does not speak, only that humming, that low tune, I can barely catch it. His hand again catches mine and puls me to the door.

Another howl and flash of lightning.

My heart races and breath grows shallow. I feel my breasts rising and falling in response to the way I feel. The wind tugs at my hair and whips it around me, and over his face. He laughs low and lets it tickle him as we step out into the night.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

He leads you by the hand not into a field around your home, but instead into the woods as they're lashed by wind and rain, the sound and fury of the storm.

The humming can still be felt as much as heard and it's in tune with the wildness of the storm as you both enter the wood nude. None of the trapping of man or his civilization on or about you now that the driving rain is washing you both.

Branches whip in the wind and raise unfelt welts on you both as the edge of the woodline is breeched. As you travel deeper and deeper into the large copse of trees they shield you from the intensity of wind and rain, but it can still be heard and felt.

Once agian two nude bodies are lashed by braches as you both emerge into a clearing that's dotted by clusters of wildly tossing and waving wild flowers. It's is here he's brought you and into the center of the clearing he leads you.

He turns and faces the direction the storm comes from, draws you in front of then back against him so that you too are facing the fury of the storm.

His hands cup your hips. His foot spreads your legs as the humming grows deeper and the storm blows. His hands slide up your wet flanks, over your heaving rib cage and around to cup your firm breasts and lift them, as if offering them to the storm.

Lightening flares illuminating the clearning and the two standing facing the storm. Hairs stand on end as another bolt shoots across the sky while the thunder from the first beats upon you both hammering, vibrating all of the two of you.

Goose bumped skin in his hands is squeezed. Hard aching nipples are pinched and again a bolt of lightening lights up the sky and clearing as they are pinched and rolled.

His hands slide up under your arms and down them to your hands. Gently holding them both he slowly moves them in front of you. Slowly both are raised before you and spread wide as if symbolizing you welcoming the Gods of the storm and finally raised up over your head wide apart welcoming the Gods with you.. all of you; all you have ever bee, all you are and all that you will be.

He steps away leaving you standing that way. Rain beats down on your nudity, wind caresses it as he moves to stand in front of you and also raises his arms to the roiling clouds in the sky.

A flare of lightening, a peal of thunder seems to be the response to his gesture and even over that you feel the humming of the song, the song of the storm. About it, by it, for it.. and for you, about you.

The wind whips his rain drenched hair. His manhood is erect, hard and seemingly unyeilding as it stands out before him pointing at you, at your femininty, your sex as it drips rain and other things into the clearing beneath your spread legs.

His lips move as he looks at you, all of you, with a pleased and serene look on his face and in his eyes. Eyes that then meet yours and hold them as his lips move seemingly soundlessly for all you can hear is the storm, the humming and just starting to be heard behind that the wild voices of the storm Gods and Goddesses as the careen around you and seem to begin to fill you.

Breasts harden as they do in passion, nether regions swell and pulse, wetness runs from your depths as you throb and vibrate as you feel more and more in tune with the elements and especially the Gods and Goddess of the storm raging around and now in you.

Francis backs a step, two and every hair on your body and his stands on end. Heat floods you both eraseing the goose flesh in an instant and causing sweat to stream down two nude bodies.

Lightening flares again and as it strikes the ground between you both the thunderous voice of the storm Gods beats and hammers you both as as a crack of thunder peals immediately after the lightening.

Both are dazzled and temporarily blinded by the brightness, both are temporarily deafened by the voices of the Gods... blinded to all but each other and the majesty of the elements.

Then, seemingly with out reason a hole opens in the racing and boiling clouds. A hole that allows the sun to shine down on just the clearing and no further bathing you both in its golden light.

The storm can be seen, heard but isn't felt now. Now you two stand in an island of calm surrounded by the chaotic winds, rain and lightening, the thunderous voice heard but more quietly...

His soft and quiet, his low and deep voice says, "I hope you like my gift to you lovely Lyra. You are now and forever will be one with the storms and the Gods and Goddesses of the storm."

"This is your time, your first time.
"I leave you to revel in it sweet, kind and lovely Lrya," and he backs slowly beyond the sunbathed clearing into the storm and woods again. He just stands there watching you, reassuring you with his presence and the humming becomes stronger and a song you will always remember. A song it seems you can call forth and use to summon the Storm Gods when you need them, his gift to sweet and lovely Lrya, who is a wonderful expample of what mankind should be... loving, kind, honest and caring.

 

[Merelan]

I cry out as the trees lash at me, my voice lost in the gathering wind. Blood streaks down my face from cuts. On and on he leads. Stumbling and catching at him as it becomes harder to see in the dark of the woods. Deeper and deeper he takes me. What fool am I to be following a stranger here? And in the nude. But then we reach a clearing, as a flash of lightening ripples across the sky. He pulls me to the center, and against him. The power in the air calling me. I close my eyes against the heat.
He moves me and positions me, his hands on me, like fire, sparking something within me to rise.
Lifting my arms to the heavens as the rain starts to soak us. Then moving away, I start to also, but find I cannot move. Lifting my eyes upwards I see chaos and rain, drenching me, the wind tugging and pulling, threatening to tear me away.
My breath quickens as I feel the arousal within me growing, I know my breasts rise and fall in time with the wind, my nipples ache and seem to swell, my legs shake, yet are stronger then I ever thought. Holding me, rooted to this spot.
My pussy swells, I can feel the heat radiating from her.
Never has such a storm been. Suddenly I hear the wind deepen, then a light call. There seems voices on the wind, calling to me. I twist and turn as if pulled. Hands reaching out to me.
Then he is there before me, almost bowing to me. I lower my arms and start to reach for him, but a streak of lightening hits again, right before us.
Blinded by the flash I stumble back, held up by unseen arms.

In an instant we are flooded by a light, almost as bright as the lightening. His words reach me through the deepening silence. We are in the heart of the storm, the rest of it rages about us.

Leave me? I am frightened at his words.
What does he mean, but whispered words in my ear distract me. Opening my mouth to speak, instead a song comes out, a calling.
He backs out of my sight, and though part of me cries for him, another revels in the thrills running through me. Every nerve ending awake and in tune to the low song I whisper.
A deep laugh in my ear and I turn, another and another. Hands pulling me to and fro. I raise my arms and call out, and the storm gathers again. Chasing off the sun and bringing back rain and thunder, but more gently now. A sweetness in the air that was not before.
A part of me on the wind as I caress the leaves of the trees, as I feel the touch of the birds feet rest on my limbs, as I flit through my garden and scent the mint growing there. As I riffle over the waters and make them stir.
As I turn and twist the fallen leaves, chasing them through the forests. As I whip at his hair and dance about his body.
As I tug and pull at him, teasing him.
He has given me this? I doubt and I falter, but his laughter reaches me on the wind, on me, and I strengthen.
Slowly I dance, a deep primordial feeling taking over my limbs as I twist and turn on the wind, in the storm, in me.
My hands reaching up, and the storm strengthens, leting them weave slowly about me and it stills.
Laying them on my body and the skies purple, as if to reflect my passion.
Finding him out again as he stands watching. Tugging at his hair, touching his body, running my hands over him, through the wind. Caressing his manhood as it stands out hard and gorgeous. Licking off the drop of nectar and tossing it in my wind.
My storm, my body a part of all around me.
How long I play, how long I stand this I do not know. But slowly I start to weaken, my body weary. Dropping to my knees I cry, holding close to the sensations still about me.
The voices die out, a promise to return as the moon peers from behind a cloud, drifting off.
I kneel in the mud, my body filled with sparks as I gasp and catch my breath.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

He returns to you and gently lifts you into his arms. He carries you through the woods, all of the branches parting none touching either of you with more than a gentle caress now that the wildness of the storm has pass on into the distance. The low distant rumble of the Gods voices, thunder, sounding as if they're saying fare thee well.... until the next time as you head rests on his shoulder.

Once out of the wood you're carried inside and set gently on your feet. A cloth is used to dry you and he wraps you in a blanket before the fire to warm the chill from your body and bones and all the while a ghost of the song whispers through the air around you.

He lights the stove and puts on water to boil the begins to remove things from the pouches normally on his belt to crush and mix into the water once it's a boiling.

To the homey smell of the fire in the fireplace and the crackle as it burns is added the song as he hums it quietly, his working at the counter and the hiss as the water heats, as well as the scent of freshly crushed herbs and leaves and other strange scents.

 

[Merelan]

I barely remembered the walk back, only his arms around me, his murmuring voice. His steength, his scent, his closeness. Turning and twisting as he carried me as without effort.

Gently rubbing me down, I was too weak to move. My lips wanted to move, but seemed frozen.
Watching him as he moved about my house. Finding myself wakening at the scent of his brew. My hands petting the little fella he had rescued the night before.
Only the night before? But so much had changed, happend. I did not understand it. But the little guy urged me on, whimpering when I slowed my hand.
I looked down and smiled, he licked my fingers.
Half purring, half growling as he worried at a piece of string hanging from the wrapper around me. Looking up to see Francis standing before me, offering me a cup.

"I cannot move, he seems intent on me petting him." What an inane thing to say, after all that had happened I go on about the creature.
Now it was nibbling at my fingers, watching me as I spoke. Pleading with me to play.
Scampering off my lap and hiding behind Francis leg, then peeking out. hiding again when I laughed at it's antics.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

He stands watching quietly as she plays with the lil critter and smiles to himself as he thinks, 'Yes, I chose well. She's truly worthy of having some of the powers.'

"And who wouldn't appreciate that Lrya," he chuckles and looks down and behind his legs saying, "Now off with ya. Let her rest a bit for now. She fair tuckered out.
"And behave yourself. No going after the chickens do you hear."

It seems as though it nods and scurries out the door chittering to itself as it goes.

Again he extends the mug of beverage, "Drink. This will refresh and restore you Lyra of the Storms, Nature and Healing." When he says it it almost sounds like a title.

 

[Merelan]

I sip the hot liquid, it's gentle scent filling my nostrils.

"What happened? Out there." Ducking my head. Sipping again, and again. It warmed me, seemed to pulse life into me.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

"Simply put Lyra, you were weighted and judged, found acceptable and accepted by the Old Gods.
"In the old days, the far distant past you're now what would be called a fledglng Druid. You're one with Nature and Mother Earth.
"As time passes you will grow into your abilities and attain powers as you experiment and try things to help the Natural Order and Balance.
"The Balance between Good and Evil, Chaos and Order and all of the shades between those two extremes, for few are wholly Good or completely Evil, that is so needed for our world to continue to exist. Without that balance, should one ever be able to overthrow the other it will ultimately mean the end of all on this world. Both are needed to feed of the other and continue the natural flow of all things.
"You are becoming and will become a neutral natural force working to maintain the balance not allowing Good or Order to becme to powerful nor Evil or Chaos."

A pause and then, "You'll be able to heal as well as smite. The choice as to which is correct will be yours to make, but always remember with one there can't be the other and you must favor neither Law or Chaos. You must be neutral in the eternal struggle."

 

[Merelan]

I drank the last of his drink, then stood.

"I am confused Francis. I feel different, stronger, more then I was. But your words, they confuse me. Gods, Balance, Chaso. Healing? Me? Like in the stories? But why? How?"

In response he took my hands and looked me in the eyes. Once again I was drawn to their depths, their beauty as he spoke, understanding washed over me.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

"Yes you Lyra. You because you are who and what you are and because one is needed here and you were the only one possible to fulfill the role.
"There was to much evil or chaos here. I've started the work to restore the balance already. Perhaps no more will be needed, but if it is then it will become your task to take care of it.
"In time I will have to wander again, but until then I will teach you how to read the aruras you'll now be able to see around people, the good ones, the bad ones and the average ones, as well as other things you'll need to know. When it's time for me to go I'll also leave you two books to read. They will be your primers for other things you'll have to learn and practice dealing with healing and the like as well as Nature and how to nurture her here. Mother Earth needs us all to help her heal after what was done to her in the past."

 

[Merelan]

A wave of understanding broke over me, and i clutched at his arms. My eyes lockign into his to steady me.
He had doen this, gifted me thusly. I could even now feel it wihin me, lying curled inside, like a fire banked for the night.

'Francis, you, you? Leave?" Clinging to one word he had spoken.

"You will leave me?" My hands tightening on his arms.

 

[PhoenixPrime01]

Francis, The Wanderer:

He smiles as he looks down into your lovely eyes and sees the dawning understanding of what you've become then sighs sadly, as he answers your question, "Lovely Lyra it will come to pass. It's not my wish I assure you. I could spend years teaching you just how to heal, draw strength from the Earth, Speed from the Wind, Passion and Ferocity from Fire, Suppleness and flowing movements from Water and Coolness when stressed and Coldness when it's needed from Ice. Then of course there's all to learn about Nature, her needs and wants and how to tend her and minister to her, to help her heal.
" I'll remain until the call comes once again as it did to bring me to this place in need and to you Lyra, but all things leave. We all are born to meet and part, sometimes sooner than others. Sometimes happily and other sadly as when we move on to another life leaving some behind for a time. Other times one leaves the other for a time and is able to return again. That's the best we can hope for Lyra.
"It's the way of fate and the will of the Gods. We are but instruments of Their will and the fates," he says as his hands move to gently hold your upper arms.
"We will, barring misfortune or deliberate murder, live long lives. I do hope when I have to leave you it will only be until I'm able to return to you again."

 

[Merelan]

He held me tight, and i leaned in and rested my head on him, letting go of the blanket. not caring I was nude. it did not seem to matetr.
I wanted to draw from his strength, be reassured by his touch.
resting there, inches from his ear I whispered, not sure if he could hear me.

"And all I thought you wanted was sex."