Furry Magic
folder
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Lucius
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
104
Views:
136,551
Reviews:
711
Recommended:
4
Currently Reading:
3
Category:
Harry Potter › Slash - Male/Male › Harry/Lucius
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
104
Views:
136,551
Reviews:
711
Recommended:
4
Currently Reading:
3
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
chapter 68
Title: Furry Magic, chapter 68
Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
@@@@@@@@@@
A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting...I was in the hospital...and no, it wasn't any fun.....and for the reviewers who feel that I went in the wrong direction with the fic...I invite you to rewrite it. Every author has his or her quirks. It would be fun to see how FM would be different If I had made different choices. I promise I won't howl plagarism...and I promise I will read every word without prejudice.
@@@@@@@@@@
Draco Malfoy was sore. His legs and chest ached. The wounds were healing, Professor Snape was very pleased with his progress, but they hurt all the time. At times just a small pain, at others, a throbbing, tearing pain. Snape told him it was from the residual of the poison, and that he could be given a draft for it, but that would slow the healing. So Draco chose to bear the pain.
He sat back on his heels. He had come down here, to the stone room, drawn to the ancient words. The seers' ruling had been a relief for him, Harry was safe, within the protection of the pride. Draco had a working knowledge of the everyday expectations for behavior in the pride, but he had never delved deeper into the laws. He thought now, that had been a mistake. He should have asked, explored, and tried to understand. Especially when he had been the heir.
The words started far up in every corner, ran along every inch of space, save for the floor under his furs. He couldn't see them clearly, the ones so high up. In the condition he was in, he knew climbing up on a ladder would be a bad idea. One slip and not only would he be hurt, but he'd never get Mantheer or Yaji to bring him here again. Once their protective instincts were roused, no amount of cajoling changed their minds. The would stand like stony pillars against all his begging.
He shifted in the nest of furs they had arranged for him. Turning on his side helped ease the strong spasm that was gripping his thighs at the moment, kneeling had been a bad idea. He read the words in front of him for the third time, pondering them. It was, naturally, too much to hope for that the laws were forthright and easy to understand. Or that they would be written as do's and don'ts. No wonder the seers spent all their lives studying the laws. And no wonder that even the kings went to the seers at times to seek clarity.
"And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." Draco murmured out loud. What did that mean? Was Harry supposed to be soothing for his father? Because as much as he loved his father, and...OK...loved Potter, their relationship was anything but soothing. Intense. Yes. Passionate. Absolutely. But not soothing. Not in the way Draco felt soothed by his guardians. No. The comparison was almost laughable. Lucius and Harry were pure fire.
On the other hand, Mantheer and Yaji made Draco feel safe. Cared for. Loved. Secure. He cherished them in a way he had not before the conception of his child. It had taken Harry, *and* the two guardians to get Draco through the ceremony of conception. He had not wanted to have a man mate with him. Not even the glorious, golden Amrys. Having the furry bodies of his guards next to him had been...necessary. Having them with him every night, and every day since his attack, was becoming...necessary. There was a definite theme here, he thought, wryly. One he'd have to examine more closely in the near future. He had a feeling that he, Mr. Heterosexual, was in for a shock. But later. For now...
Draco frowned. He read the law again. "And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." Did it mean the Chosen could be used by the king to smooth the workings of the pride? To calm the members? To comfort those who needed comfort? King's of the pride had long offered the Chosen to other royalty as welcome when they visited. It was considered the highest honor the pride king could bestow. So high an honor that it was *not* expected by the visiting royals. Not requested. And if offered, was never, ever refused.
Of course, there was also the situation they were now in. There had not been another Chosen in Draco's lifetime. Yet, even he wondered if it was right that the ruling three did not share the Chosen. Amrys and Graeme had always shared everything with Lucius. Only those two, the second and the third, had Rights to touch what was the king's. The Rights to his bed, to his time, to his body, to everything that made him king. To everything that made him who he was. Even more so now that Amrys was the Sire.
They were tighter than ever now, the ruling three. And Lucius was trying to do something. Draco had pondered just what, my Ghod, after the scene in his father's rooms, the screaming...he had to ask himself the questions. Lucius had tried to give Harry to Graeme. And when Harry refused, the king had tried to sever their bond, to walk away and reject his Chosen. Merlin what a mistake that had been. But, it had also been a well needed lesson.
Was the favor of the Chosen the balm that the king used to keep his ruling triad stable, content? It made sense that it was. To Draco anyway. But, this was the first day he had come here. What did he know? He determined to ask Amrys about it. Graeme, while Draco didn't fear him, not really, was a bit to volatile to ask. Though as Draco understood, Graeme was as close as it came to an expert and fanatical adherent to the laws and traditions of the pride.
Harry, though. Draco shook his head. Harry was not the most balm-y sort. He was too powerful, too stubborn, too....Harry. If balm was what his father had been looking for in a Chosen, then the king had miscalculated badly in his choice. But, the tie between the two of them was there. Blazing strong for any one to see. Unbreakable the seer had said. The young blond man shook his head, grinning secretly to himself.
His father, powerful king that he was, had bitten off a bit more than he could chew when it came to Harry. Potter, was a handful. Or more. The king himself could use help in taming that fire. Perhaps...the help of his second and third?
Draco turned back to the wall, and the deep carved words. "And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." What exactly did that mean?
ne'ichan
faestion1@yahoo.com
Disclaimer: I do not own HP.
@@@@@@@@@@
A/N: Sorry about the delay in posting...I was in the hospital...and no, it wasn't any fun.....and for the reviewers who feel that I went in the wrong direction with the fic...I invite you to rewrite it. Every author has his or her quirks. It would be fun to see how FM would be different If I had made different choices. I promise I won't howl plagarism...and I promise I will read every word without prejudice.
@@@@@@@@@@
Draco Malfoy was sore. His legs and chest ached. The wounds were healing, Professor Snape was very pleased with his progress, but they hurt all the time. At times just a small pain, at others, a throbbing, tearing pain. Snape told him it was from the residual of the poison, and that he could be given a draft for it, but that would slow the healing. So Draco chose to bear the pain.
He sat back on his heels. He had come down here, to the stone room, drawn to the ancient words. The seers' ruling had been a relief for him, Harry was safe, within the protection of the pride. Draco had a working knowledge of the everyday expectations for behavior in the pride, but he had never delved deeper into the laws. He thought now, that had been a mistake. He should have asked, explored, and tried to understand. Especially when he had been the heir.
The words started far up in every corner, ran along every inch of space, save for the floor under his furs. He couldn't see them clearly, the ones so high up. In the condition he was in, he knew climbing up on a ladder would be a bad idea. One slip and not only would he be hurt, but he'd never get Mantheer or Yaji to bring him here again. Once their protective instincts were roused, no amount of cajoling changed their minds. The would stand like stony pillars against all his begging.
He shifted in the nest of furs they had arranged for him. Turning on his side helped ease the strong spasm that was gripping his thighs at the moment, kneeling had been a bad idea. He read the words in front of him for the third time, pondering them. It was, naturally, too much to hope for that the laws were forthright and easy to understand. Or that they would be written as do's and don'ts. No wonder the seers spent all their lives studying the laws. And no wonder that even the kings went to the seers at times to seek clarity.
"And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." Draco murmured out loud. What did that mean? Was Harry supposed to be soothing for his father? Because as much as he loved his father, and...OK...loved Potter, their relationship was anything but soothing. Intense. Yes. Passionate. Absolutely. But not soothing. Not in the way Draco felt soothed by his guardians. No. The comparison was almost laughable. Lucius and Harry were pure fire.
On the other hand, Mantheer and Yaji made Draco feel safe. Cared for. Loved. Secure. He cherished them in a way he had not before the conception of his child. It had taken Harry, *and* the two guardians to get Draco through the ceremony of conception. He had not wanted to have a man mate with him. Not even the glorious, golden Amrys. Having the furry bodies of his guards next to him had been...necessary. Having them with him every night, and every day since his attack, was becoming...necessary. There was a definite theme here, he thought, wryly. One he'd have to examine more closely in the near future. He had a feeling that he, Mr. Heterosexual, was in for a shock. But later. For now...
Draco frowned. He read the law again. "And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." Did it mean the Chosen could be used by the king to smooth the workings of the pride? To calm the members? To comfort those who needed comfort? King's of the pride had long offered the Chosen to other royalty as welcome when they visited. It was considered the highest honor the pride king could bestow. So high an honor that it was *not* expected by the visiting royals. Not requested. And if offered, was never, ever refused.
Of course, there was also the situation they were now in. There had not been another Chosen in Draco's lifetime. Yet, even he wondered if it was right that the ruling three did not share the Chosen. Amrys and Graeme had always shared everything with Lucius. Only those two, the second and the third, had Rights to touch what was the king's. The Rights to his bed, to his time, to his body, to everything that made him king. To everything that made him who he was. Even more so now that Amrys was the Sire.
They were tighter than ever now, the ruling three. And Lucius was trying to do something. Draco had pondered just what, my Ghod, after the scene in his father's rooms, the screaming...he had to ask himself the questions. Lucius had tried to give Harry to Graeme. And when Harry refused, the king had tried to sever their bond, to walk away and reject his Chosen. Merlin what a mistake that had been. But, it had also been a well needed lesson.
Was the favor of the Chosen the balm that the king used to keep his ruling triad stable, content? It made sense that it was. To Draco anyway. But, this was the first day he had come here. What did he know? He determined to ask Amrys about it. Graeme, while Draco didn't fear him, not really, was a bit to volatile to ask. Though as Draco understood, Graeme was as close as it came to an expert and fanatical adherent to the laws and traditions of the pride.
Harry, though. Draco shook his head. Harry was not the most balm-y sort. He was too powerful, too stubborn, too....Harry. If balm was what his father had been looking for in a Chosen, then the king had miscalculated badly in his choice. But, the tie between the two of them was there. Blazing strong for any one to see. Unbreakable the seer had said. The young blond man shook his head, grinning secretly to himself.
His father, powerful king that he was, had bitten off a bit more than he could chew when it came to Harry. Potter, was a handful. Or more. The king himself could use help in taming that fire. Perhaps...the help of his second and third?
Draco turned back to the wall, and the deep carved words. "And the Chosen shall be the balm of the king." What exactly did that mean?
ne'ichan
faestion1@yahoo.com