*Author's Note: Read at LEAST chapters 6 and 7 of Vengeance Quest first, or you won't really understand this story.  VQ can be found at .*

Storm's Song

Please… no… no more…

Hearing the clank of metal, course laughter grating on his ears through the roar of shock and pain and a dying soul.

Stop… oh seasons please stop please—

as harsh paws ran across his beaten body, bruising, violating, and again that cruel mockery of laughter as cloth rustled, as he shook in dreading anticipation of more humiliation, more invasion, more—

PAIN

white flame thudding into his back, arcing it forward, a gasp of agony as blood clogged his lungs, as darkness spread from the arrow in his spine, and he forced his dimming gaze to that solitary beloved figure, tried to gasp out final words with a final rattling breath.

Fare… well…

and night consumed him at last.

He floated into nothing, a speck of shattered consciousness drifting through the soundless sightless void.  Drifting, drifting—until the nothing became a current of midnight, and around him sparked glimmers of light, of moons, of souls, the stardusted sky formed into a flowing river of light and dark and nothing and everything and—

Something lurked in the distance… A dark gleam, shadowed emerald, veiled wood—held back only by an eternal wall and heavy gates.  Gates that swung open in silence, velvet silence, and the current of spirit guided him through.

To deposit him in horrific memory.

A shuddering gasp as unwanted paws touched him and unknown lips kissed him and then it was all pulled away, humiliation replaced by the stinging pain of a blow, of claws digging into his thigh, tearing away fur and cloth to leave him bare in spring's night air…

NO—

and he screamed as remembered pain flared beneath his tail, as the rhythm of violation tore at his body and mind and soul and—

"Stormsong… shh… it's over… it's over…"

Strong arms wrapping gentle about his convulsing figure, a warm body sheltering his, a familiar scent that spoke of love and security.  He buried his face in the furred chest, clung like a drowning beast to a wooden spar, cried out his pain in the safety and comfort of the other's embrace and soothing voice.

"Shh… they can't hurt you anymore, Stormy… no more, my song… you're safe now.  I'm here…"

An eternity passed in the warmth of that embrace, or maybe it was a mere instant, but somehow time didn't matter as he released all the agony, all the torment, all the grief in a tsunami of tears.  And at last he pulled away just enough to look up into the face he knew would be there, a dark male stoat with gentle brown eyes that held only love.

"Terann…"

The stoat smiled. "Aye, Stormy… it's me."

"But… thou be…" The slightest of shudders.

"Dead, aye." Terann's paw reached up, smoothed Stormsong's fur, caressed his ear. "As you are."

A slow nod. "Dead… yet I feel not dead."

The stoat chuckled, pulled Stormsong close again. "Nay, you won't.  But… we can't be hurt, here.  We can't die again. We're safe."

A long, tremulous sigh shuddered from Stormsong's chest, releasing all tension, andh e snuggled into his lover's embrace. "…Ye know…" he said after a while of comfortable silence, "there be one among the living much like thee."

"Kiern?"

"…Thou knewest?"

Terann kissed the weasel's muzzle. "Aye.  You think I wouldn't keep an eye on you?"

"…Aye, thou wouldst.  Curious soul thou be."

A laugh from the stoat, and he held Stormsong at arm's length, a smile playing about his face. "Ahh, Stormy… I missed you, bard."

An answering smile crossed the weasel's visage. "And I, thee."

More companionable silence, and then a sudden grin flashed across Terann's features. "I almost forgot…" He reached back. "Close your eyes." Stormsong obliged, listened to the rustle of cloth. "All right, open them."

He opened his eyes to a delicate lute held just before him.  His lute…! "How…?"

His lover just smiled. "It's your soul's voice—it's almost got a soul of its own.  Is it any wonder that it's in Dark Forest?" He laid the lute in Stormsong's lap. "Go ahead.  Play for me."

Wondering paws lifted the intricately carved instruments, tested a few strings, sending silver notes into the malleable air.  Stormsong didn't notice, simply bent over his beloved lute and poured his heart into the strings, love and joy and wonder echoing throughout Dark Forest, spilling forth as silvery glimmers and shining motes of light and a scattering of dancing star's, until all the Forest shone with the beauty of the bard's soul's song.