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THE WATCHER

by Ruric



The shadowy figure paused in its progress through the woods. The surrounding trees arched toweringly upwards, their overhanging branches casting deep shadows over the woodland floor, totally obscuring the
clear night's sky and the faint, silvery light offered by the crescent moon. The figure picked its way over several fallen branches, careful to avoid breaking them. It would not do to let those in the clearing know
of his approach. The scents of the woods rose to surround the stealthy figure as he crept forwards. The strong tang of pine needles crushed underfoot by his leather booted feet; the warm, musty smell of the
slightly damp earth disturbed as he passed; the occasional, strong heady perfume of the small white flowers of the woodland floor, which only opened their delicate, tiny blooms in the evening, to be pollinated by
the night moths.

It was very difficult for him to see where he was going, as he walked through the shadows cast by the trees, but he knew the way to the clearing by heart. They had met here before and, he was sure that they
would again. His heart was drumming erratically in his chest, he could feel it beating frantically against his rib cage. The pulse in his temples pounded and he felt like an iron band encircled his forehead. His mouth was dry and he was finding it difficult to control his breathing, to keep calm and not heave in desperate gasps of air. The muscles in his thighs and calves screamed with tenseness at the futility of the slow passage through the woodlands. He wanted to stride forwards, crashing through the tangle of vegetation, brushing it out of
his way. To be able to run, to get to the clearing before it was too late, making as much noise as he wanted..... But no, he couldn't do that, not tonight. Tonight he had to see for himself, once and for all.......

The last words, final, shouted and angry echoed round his mind. Maybe, maybe if he just hurried a little more he would be in time to stop what was going to happen. Perhaps it was still possible to make amends,
somehow to apologise. Finally, he raised his glance to squint forwards through the trees. Yes! At last, the subdued, yellow glow of a fire could be seen through the wild vegetation. He edged forwards tentatively
and paused, he couldn't get too close, not yet. Wait, the inner voice urged him. It might not happen. But he knew that was a small hope. Those last words rose to haunt him again, and he felt the pounding in his
temples increase. No, he angrily dismissed them and the rising tide of pain that they caused. He wouldn't think about that now. Not until it was proven all was lost.

In the centre of the clearing a fire burned brightly, casting a circle of golden light into the grassy area. The small fire had obviously been set for the purpose of illumination rather than heat. It was the middle of summer and the night air was warm and humid. In fact, the watcher's skin was covered with a slight sheen of sweat, which he brushed out of his eyes as he surveyed the scene before him. The fire had been built with care. A ring of stones encircled the small pit, ensuring that no stray spark could jump across the barrier and cause a conflagration throughout the dry vegetation of the woodland. He caught the spicy smell of the burning wood, recalling happier times when he too had camped beneath the stars, after a days work had been done. Remembering the smell of roasting rabbit, lying sprawled on a bed roll, looking lazily up into the endless skys. But those days were long gone. He couldn't remember the last time he had lain by a fire........ he dragged his
wandering mind brutally back into the present, before he became lost in memories of the past.

Sitting to one side of the camp fire was a tall man, his broad frame as hunched over, elbows resting on knees, fingers interlaced to form a support for his chin. He started intently into the fire, as if trying to fathom the secrets of its burning depths. The man was completely still, as the fire crackled, spit and hissed, its golden light reflecting off his darker hair. He could almost have been a statue carved from marble, the only sign of movement he made was the gentle rise and fall of his rib cage with his breathing.

Ah, the watcher thought. He's here already here. Perhaps that should have been anticipated. But where was the other? He should have been here by now. Funny, he couldn't even call him by name anymore. It threatened too much pain, to cause the rage to rise again. It was important that he not lose control.

Approaching as closely as possible, without attracting the attention of the seated man, he sought a sheltered spot, from which he could observe the glade without being seen. Finally he found what he looked for. A tall tree, with enough vegetation in front to obscure his figure, but still enable him to see through to the centre of the glade. Wearily he rested his back against the tree, stretching taut muscles, trying to ensure that his legs and arms didn't cramp. He'd no idea how long he might have to wait for the arrival of the other. Peering up throughout the trees a glimpse of the moon was revealed. Such a beautiful night - almost perfect for a long walk in the woods, or camping out under the moon.....

Well, he should be here shortly, they weren't that far away from the palace and city walls. Unless, hope rose desperately in his heart, ...... unless he'd changed his mind. Perhaps, after all, he'd reconsidered. Maybe he regretted the fight, the angry, hateful words which had spilled from both of them. It was a possibility.....although on reflection, it was very unlikely.

The watcher cast a glance around the clearing and froze, catching sight of a slight movement on the opposite side of the glade. His breath caught painfully in his throat and he felt his chest constrict, as he watched the small figure ease its way through the trees, stealthily picking a path towards the man seated by the fire.

The watcher smiled grimly. No......he never should have doubted him. He knew him too well. Once he made a decision he usually followed through. He was shocked to find that he was trembling. An uncontrolled shiver
raced through his frame, and he curled his hands into fists as he sought mastery of his body.

A shock of blond hair was highlighted by the soft light of the moon as the second man emerged into the clearing. He walked lightly over the earth, causing less disruption than a breath of air, barely a blade of
grass being disturbed by his passing. The watcher waited, as always surprised at how quietly the small man could move. He passed silently out from the trees and into the glade. The watcher strained fruitlessly
to hear the small snap of a twig or the rustle of disturbed leaves. The blond walked with an economy of movement, yet there was no hesitation in his step. He seemed to know by instinct exactly where to place his feet. As far as the watcher could see the man wasn't even looking where he stepped. His eyes were fixed on the bowed head of the seated figure before him. So lost was the second man in his contemplation of the
dancing, golden flames that the watcher doubted if he was even aware of the figure approaching him.

Something, however, alerted the seated man. As the blond finally reached the opposite side of the fire he glanced upwards to meet his eyes. The watcher saw the shuddering breath that the seated man expelled as his eyes took in the appearance of the new arrival. The man rose, slowly, his expression wondering, half hopeful, half fearful and his hand started to reach for the smaller man, before halting uncertainly and
dropping back to his side.

The silent shadow took a few careful steps forwards, wanting to hear their conversation.

But they remained like that, a frozen tableau, for what felt like an eternity to the spectre which observed them. For a moment the watcher thought they must have become aware of his presence. He held his breath, heart pounding, expecting the two heads to swivel his way, to be caught in the brilliance of their eyes. Another tremor shook his frame.

But no, they were apparently oblivious to their surroundings, so intense was their focus on one another. They stood on either side of the fire, eyes hungrily taking in each detail of the other's appearance, their
soft breathing the only sound to be heard. Surely one of them would speak soon. The watcher leaned forwards with anticipation, waiting to hear the words, hoping against hope that they would be different to the
ones he expected.

The woods were quieter than usual, as if the creatures of the night held their peace out of respect for the figures in the glade. The watcher noted the absence of the soft hoot of owls as they went about their
nightly hunt, or the gentle chirp of the bats and the susurration of their passing wings as they sought out insects for their evening meal, even the chirrup of crickets was absent tonight. It was almost eerie, the woods were never this quiet, not unless......

A sudden premonition chilled him to the bone. He felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, the primitive response of a hunted animal. Something, there was something out there. Then, the reason for the stillness was revealed. A cautious glance around the border of the clearing showed what he'd missed in the first assessment. A sudden flash of deep gold, as something blinked, slowly. Gaze narrowing, focusing in
on those aureate eyes, surrounding jet black pupils. The watcher was also being observed. Black fur encircling the gold, blending perfectly into the darker shadows of the surrounding forest. A flash as the jaw
dropped open, long, white teeth, and then a startlingly pink tongue lolled out of the side of the mouth. A wolf. A very large, black wolf, which the watcher would have sworn was grinning at him. A frisson of
trepidation, would the animal reveal his presence?

He heaved a quiet sigh of relief as the wolf dropped its head to rest on its paws and lazily closed it eyes. No, safe for the moment. Looking away from the animal the watcher's gaze returned to the two figures.
They still hadn't moved. Finally the blond took two quick steps around the fire until he stood barely inches away from his companion.

"I wasn't sure that you'd be here," his voice was low, hoarse and strained, almost a whisper. A slight uncertainty evident in the statement.

"Have I *ever* let you down?" the deeper reply was a gentle rebuke. The blond flushed, a tide of pink rising to colour high cheekbones, and looked away from his companion in embarrassment for a moment.

His gaze was now almost directly on the silent figure observing them, and once more the watcher stilled all movement. His breath caught in his throat as he observed the blond's flushed face, saw once again the lines
of tiredness around eyes and mouth . The blond's shoulder slumped, exhaustion evident in the small figure which suddenly seemed vulnerable in the emptiness of the clearing. He felt his limbs twitch, his body
almost starting into movement, before his mind quelled the automatic response.

A sound drew his attention back to the two men. It was a short, bitter laugh, which had issued from the blond as he returned his gaze to his taller companion. The figures were bathed in soft, golden glow of the
fire, as it danced and reflected off their leather clothing. The scene was deceptively calm, but the unseen watcher could see the tension in the two figures and sense the anticipation in the still night air.

"No," a pause as the tension mounted and the blond struggled for words. "You *never* let me down. You were always....." the blond's words were silenced as the taller man reached out and laid gentle fingers across
his lips.

"Hush," the one word was whispered, barely loud enough for the watcher to hear, but it was a command not a request.

The fingers moved round, sliding from the blond's lips until they cupped the back of his head. The taller man inexorably drew the blond towards him, until finally he bent over and his lips captured those of his
companion. The watcher could see the kiss was gentle, questioning, waiting for a response. The only point of contact between the two men in the clearing was the hand cupping the blond head and their joined lips.

Finally with a soft sigh the blond relaxed into the kiss, stepping closer to the other man he wrapped his arms around the broad back, hugging him close, as the other man's arms encircled him in turn.

The watcher remained transfixed observing the surrender. Tears blurred his vision, he struggled to breathe around the sudden lump in his throat that felt as if it would choke him of air. A moment of utter desolation
washed over him - how could he? He drew in a shocked breath and then desolation was replaced by bitterness and a white hot anger. He brushed the tears from his eyes, concentrating on the figures before him once more.

They had released their hold on each other. The blond's smaller hands were hastily pushing the other's clothing away from his body, revealing a strongly muscled and lightly furred chest, even as the larger hands
stripped the battered purple vest from his shoulders, and pulled it roughly from his arms.

The blond broke free from the kiss, panting slightly, and rested his head against the other's broad shoulder for a moment. His smaller hand, fingers splayed, made a leisurely exploration from the base of the taller man's throat, down across his chest, to the waistband of his leather pants.

>From his place beneath the trees, the watcher heard the low growl of pleasure the man made, and saw the abdominal muscles tense and relax in response to the caress. His own skin burned, as if he could feel the
blond caressing him too, and he was surprised to find himself growing hard as he watched them.

The taller man moved, once again capturing the blond's lips in a kiss, but there was no question involved in this kiss. This time the taller man demanded a response, and the watcher witnessed the small man give it
willingly. He practically stood on tiptoe, as his left arm locked around the broad shoulders. His right hand reached up to tangle in the darker hair, and with one swift movement, his legs were locked around the
other's waist.

The watcher heard the grunt of pleasant surprise as his hands came around to cup the leather clad ass, offering support to the blond. He sank slowly to his knees, supporting the burden of the lighter man
easily, then leaned forwards, pressing the blond into the soft grass and moss of the clearing. As the taller man covered him, the smaller figure was obscured, only a glimpse of blond hair could be seen above the broad shoulders and back.

The watcher edged forwards furtively, his view partially hidden by the taller bushes of the forest floor. Once again he found a spot where he could observe the figures unimpeded. The taller man kissed the blond
thoroughly, hands tangled in the golden glow of his hair, then he broke away, tongue tracing a delicate pattern of licks and bites across the strong jaw to the blond's ear. He nuzzled at him, whispering something
in a throaty baritone rumble, far too softly for the watcher to hear, but which produced a soft groan and a whimper from the body beneath him.

The watcher's body responded involuntarily to the sounds of arousal. There was a hard, heavy ache in his groin and his cock was growing harder as he watched the small figure writhe beneath the other man.

The blond's arms were still locked around the broad shoulders, but the darker man reached up, and pulled them away before sitting back on his heels. His hands strayed down, across the muscled chest of the blond,
pausing to tease tawny nipples into jutting points of pleasure.

The watcher trembled, his skin breaking out in a slick sweat, echoing the reactions of those in the clearing. His body was responding to the scene before him, bringing a flush of excitement to his cheeks, making
him burn in the warm night air. He could almost feel that golden flesh under his own hands, the sleek, soft, silky skin, peaked nipples, heart beating wildly against the ribs as his hands slid downwards....

The darker haired man leaned forwards, tongue circling one nipple, teeth teasing at the point, until the blond groaned aloud, a sound of desperation, as his body arched upwards towards the other man, and met a
hand, which pushed him back into the soft earth. The darker man smiled against his skin, then blew softly, cold air across the sensitive skin so recently enclosed in warmth. The bond uttered another strangled
whimper and brought his hands to lock into the darker hair of his companion, pulling his head across to the other nipple.

Sensations flashed through the watcher's body. His own nipples grew hard and he slid one hand between clothing and skin to stroke his own peaking flesh. He could almost make believe it was another touching him,
smaller, talented hands caressing him. His cock strained against his leather pants and so he moved one hand downward to stroke it through the supple material, as he narrowed his eyes, watching the movements of the
two men before him.

The darker man was sliding down the blond's body. His hands were still caressing and teasing the tawny nipples to stiff peaks, but his mouth now traced a hot trail of licks and bites down across the muscled
abdomen. His tongue made lazy circles around his supine lover's navel before stabbing downwards, causing the blond to arch upwards again, and the watcher saw his small hands tighten in the other's hair until the
knuckles showed white.


The darker man raised his head, looking hotly up the sweating form beneath him, as he moved his hands, oh so slowly, down the waistband of the blond's leather pants. Teasingly, he allowed his hands to slide over
the slim leather clad hips, cupping his tight ass slightly, then sliding downwards from hips, along the outside of the strong thighs to the knees. He sat up, forcing the blond to release the death grip on his hair. His larger hands traced a pathway from knees back up inner thighs to the blond's groin, and then one large hand tantalisingly stroked the promising bulge of the dark leather codpiece.

The blond groaned again, breathily murmuring what could have been a request and the darker man rumbled his reply. The watcher strained to hear, but the roaring in his own ears prevented him from distinguishing
the words which had been spoken. The darker man reached for the blond again, hands competently unbuckling the leather belts, unlacing the codpiece and pushing the pants over the blond's slim hips.

The watcher found his own hands echoing the movements of the other. He glanced downwards as he unbuckled his own belts, and pushed his own leather pants from his hips, to pool around his ankles. His own cock sprang free, engorged and aroused. His left hand moved downwards to cup his balls as his right closed firmly around the velvety warmth of his own erection. A clear fluid coated the head, and he slid his thumb
across, spreading the lubrication. By the time he returned his gaze to the clearing the darker man had finished stripping the blond and had discarded his own pants and boots too.

The darker man was standing, having obviously just removed his own clothing, and seemed to have the intention of joining the blond back on the grassy floor of the clearing. But before he could accomplish this
act the smaller man rose to his knees in one graceful movement. Kneeling before his darker lover, his reached out his left hand to touch the other's waist, halting him where he stood. His right slowly encircled the cock, as he looked up at his lover.

Liquid fire shot through the watcher's veins at that lithe movement. He could imagine exactly how the blond would look. Eyes raised, heavy lidded with desire to meet those of the man standing above him, pink
tongue protruding, quickly to lick his lips, before his mouth closed, wet heat surrounding the throbbing member. Still he couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding before him. It happened exactly as he
expected.

The blond's tongue did appear, briefly to moisten his lips, then he lowered his gaze from the darker man's hungry eyes. The pink tongue appeared again to tease at the head of the other's cock, surprising a
gasp from the taller man, as it worked its way around his erection, and slowly licked from root to tip. Then his mouth covered the other and a groan of delight tore its way from the throat of the darker man. The
blond head raised and lowered in front of the darker groin as the man's large hands locked onto the blond's shoulders, fingers gripping tightly.

They made an erotic sight, the watcher concluded, barely capable of conscious thought any more. Such a sensual picture was more suited to the temples of Eros, than a balmy night in the woodlands. Eros, God of
Desire, who well knew the power of instinct and understood the forces of uncontrolled sexual passion. The watcher found that the movements of his hand upon his own cock matched those of the blond's head as he
sucked at his lover. His body burned, blood thrumming through his veins, climax threatening, as his left hand pulled his balls away from his body, his right stilled, allowing the frantic beating of his heart and the need for fulfilment to decrease slightly. He closed his eyes, squeezing them tight, trying to shut out the vision in the clearing, as he fought to regain control of his ragged breathing.

Muffled sounds from the clearing forced his eyes open again, and he saw the dark man, fingers now locked into the golden hair as he pulled the blond's head away from his body. His erection was wet from the
attention which the blond had bestowed, but it was obvious that he had not yet reached completion either. The taller man crouched down, full lips once again capturing the small man's mouth as he pushed him down to the grassy floor.

He broke away from the kiss after a moment, to slip three fingers into his mouth, moistening them before his hand slid between their bodies. A couple of seconds later the blond gave a half agonised moan, telling the
watcher all he needed to know about what was taking place.

The watcher was torn between a desire to close his eyes and flee through the undergrowth as fast as possible, to not witness what was about to take place, and his own horrified fascination and arousal which held him trapped as surely as any rabbit in a predator's hungry glare. He could feel his own erection throbbing in his hand again, in response to the sight before him.

The blond's legs were spread wide, muscles in thighs and calves clearly defined. The darker man knelt before him as he spat quickly into his right hand, reaching down to coat his own erection. He leaned forwards,
taking most of his weight on his left arm as with his right hand he guided himself into his willing and eager partner. Another gasp, a mixture of pleasure and pain, joined with a grunt of satisfaction from the darker man. The two lay still for a moment, joined, then the blond moved his legs to clamp around his lover's waist. The darker man pushed upwards, resting his body weight on outstretched arms, shoulders flexing with the effort, as he slowly began to move. His hips thrust in and out, slowly and steadily, as the blond raised his hands to grasp frantically at the man's biceps, fingers digging deeply, leaving white indentations in the flesh.

His right hand closed around his own erection, his movements matching those of the darker man's hips, the watcher observed the darkly seductive movements of the two men. Their bodies glistened in the light
of the fire, the sheen of sweat adding highlights to the shadows cast by the dancing flames. The closeness of the night air meant that he too, was bathed in perspiration, and he felt it trickle slowly down his back.

The blond's right hand slipped from the other man's arm, to rest between their bodies as he began to pump his own erection. As he watched them writhe together his heart turned to stone and a dark desire for
vengeance was born deep within his soul. The watcher could hear the gasps, the low words of encouragement as the blond urged his partner on, ever faster towards completion. His own climax was building, as his hand moved in time with the twists and thrusts of the dark man's hips. He saw the shudder start to pass through the other man's body, dimly heard their moans of satisfaction as his own release occurred, his cock throbbing as a warm, wet stickiness covered his hand to drip to the ground.

********************************************************************

It was several minutes before his shuddering breathing returned to normal, and he stooped to wipe his sticky hand on the ferns of the forest floor. He pulled his pants up hastily relacing them, buckling his belts and turned his attention once more to the clearing.

They still lay tangled within each other's embrace. He began to walk forwards making no attempt to disguise the sound of his passage through the undergrowth, but had to halt still in the shadow of the trees as a
low rumble greeted his progress. The wolf had moved whilst he watched them and it now stood between him and the two figures, its low growl obviously a warning to the darker man.

The two figures untangled from each other's embrace and stood hurriedly pulling on their pants, ready to face whatever danger approached. Well, thanks to their guardian he wouldn't be able to catch them completely
vulnerable.

He strode into the clearing stopping a few feet away from them.

Still half-naked, the light reflected off their glowing damp skin, they looked like two carved golden statutes. The blond stood slightly in front of his taller companion, almost protectively.

A red tide of rage swept through him, and he promised himself, revenge would be his eventually.

"Iolaus.....," he began angrily but his throat closed on the sound. Words failed him. What could he say that would make a difference now?

For a moment the piercing blue eyes that looked at him showed him straight into the soul of the man before him. They were filled with a never ending pain, years of hurt and a sense of betrayal. His own anger
receded slightly when he saw the expression, leaving a feeling of emptiness and loss behind. He couldn't meet that honest gaze, and looked briefly over the blond's shoulder at the man standing behind him.

He expected to see a glow of victory in the dark brown eyes that regarded him watchfully, but the only emotion that showed there was anger, clearly directed at him. The darker man rested one hand on Iolaus' shoulder comfortingly, and he shuddered to witness the proprietal action.

"Iolaus, don't do this....." he looked back at the blond, but the blue eyes were shuttered now, emotions masked. No insight left into that bright soul. "Please, come back with me now....." it couldn't end here,
not like this.

"To what?" the words were simply stated, no anger in the tone at all.

"It doesn't have to be this way." He had to try, one last time, to convince him that things could carry on the way they always had.

"Yes it does. You know it and so do I. You made your choice, made it clear where your priorities lie, and now you have to live with it. Please, go back and leave me alone."

Iolaus turned away, and went to the pile of hastily discarded clothes, and sat down to pull on his boots.

The watcher faced the dark man, neither spoke for a few moments.

"He's right you know. You didn't really give him any choice, this time. So he came to me," the expected goading and gloating was absent from the rich baritone voice.

"So what does it feel like to have finally won?" he questioned, bitterness clearly evident in his tone.

"I haven't won," the answer was weary and exasperated. "No-one has. But you have just lost the best thing that ever happened to you. Now just go away and leave us alone. You chose a different life so go and live it."

The words penetrated the numbness surrounding him. It was over. Nothing would ever be the same again. He turned wearily and left the clearing.

Iolaus rose, came back over to his darker lover, carrying their remaining clothes. As the darker man sat down to pull on his boots Iolaus' gaze followed the retreating back, an expression of sadness and loss once more showing clearly on his face.

His darker companion paused as he shrugged on his vest. The wolf padded softly into the clearing, winding its sinuous form around its masters legs and he stooped to pet it and ruffled the silky black fur. Its
tongue lolled out of its mouth and it seemed almost to be smiling at him. His faithful familiar.

He straightened once more, and looked at Iolaus. The shorter man's gaze remained on the direction the other had taken. With a soft sigh the darker man stood and quietly approached his companion and lover. Lover,
he couldn't help a small sense of victory at that. Finally, Iolaus had come to him...... or had he?

Iolaus was conscious of the heat of a body standing close behind, as an arm encircled his waist, pulling him against the muscled hardness of the taller man behind him.

"I'm sorry it had to end like this, Iolaus."

"Me too."

"Are you sure you made the right choice?"

"Yes. He chose to become King and marry. That was right for him. There was no way that I could stay then and he knew that."

"And this is the right thing for you?" Iolaus heard the undertone in the question, realising that the darker man didn't really believe that he was here, for good.

He turned around, staring deeply into his lover's warm brown eyes.

"Yes. This is the *right* thing for me too. Never doubt that," with a reassuring pat to his lover's arm Iolaus kicked earth over the fire, making sure no stray spark remained.

The sun was beginning to rise, a heat haze forming in the sky heralding the arrival of another scorchingly hot day as the two men and their lupine companion left the clearing.

And that's the story of how Ares, God of War, and his warrior companion and lover Iolaus entered the chronicles of the legends. And of how Hercules, King of Corinth and husband of Iole, became their bitterest
enemy.

FINIS

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