Ties of Time

by Natalie L

Twenty-five years later:

Present time

"Is she not beautiful?" B'layr watched as their daughter, K'tiri, strode purposefully across the meadow, her eleven-month pregnant profile richly adorned in the forest green velvet gown that had once belonged to her Bearer.

Jim wrapped an arm around his soulmate, tugging B'layr against his shoulder. "It's hard to believe she's finally come of age. I guess it's time for this old man to retire—pass over the mantle and let someone else take the reins."

"She will make a fine Chieftess. You have raised her well."

"We have raised her well, Professor," Jim quipped. "You had a hand in it, too."

B'layr watched as K'tiri approached a raised platform in the center of the meadow, ascended a step, and sat with regal pride in the chair provided for her. His mind wandered back to when she was small.

>>>>*<<<<

Twenty-one years earlier, early March—four years after the birth of the twins

"Mother! Mother! Come and see!" A small hand tugged at B'layr's shirt, demanding his attention.

"In a minute, little one." B'layr turned to his daughter, noting the brightness of her pale blue eyes. "I must finish here, first." He turned back to the e-mail from the university, reading and rereading the text, barely believing.

"What's up, Imp?" Jim walked through the cabin door and over to the desk where his mate was bent over the small computer.

"I have passed my exams," the elf said, exhaling slowly. "I now have a Bachelor's degree in Anthropology and Psychology."

"That's wonderful!" Jim embraced both his mate and their daughter. "When is the graduation ceremony?"

"The 29th of May," B'layr whispered. "I cannot believe this."

"Why not?" Jim asked. "You've earned it."

B'layr turned to K'tiri, lifting her into his arms. "At what expense? I spend all my time here, instead of tending to my family, as I should." He bounced the four-year-old on his hip. "What is it you wanted me to see?" he asked her.

"Outside!" K'tiri pointed to the door. B'layr obediently followed the direction and walked out into the spring sun.

"See?" The youngster pointed up to the branches of the maple tree, which was just filling with spring green leaves. Nestled in the branches was a robin's nest. "Our Sire says there are three eggs in it and that they are as blue as the sky."

"He is right," B'layr agreed. "And in under two weeks, the parents will have three hungry mouths to feed."

The elfling giggled and squirmed to be put down. B'layr set her on the grass and watched as she took off running and shouting. "T'erin! T'erin! Come see!"

Jim turned to his mate. "The graduation is only a few weeks away. Do you want to join your class for the ceremony?"

B'layr nodded. "I would like that very much. The helicopter could come and get us and take us to the university?"

"Not a problem," Jim affirmed. "I'll just call Steven on the radio and make the arrangements. You'll need to go into the city to pick up your cap and gown."

"I can make arrangements via e-mail," the elf informed him. "We should not need more than one or two trips to the city. I wish for our whole family to attend. Would that be possible?"

"I'll see if Steven has a bigger helicopter he can send, or perhaps have him send more than one," Jim suggested.

B'layr nodded and watched as the twins scaled the trunk of the tree and crawled out on limbs near the nest to observe the wondrous eggs they had been told about. T'erin crawled a bit too far, snagging his breeches on a twig and losing his balance. With a heavy thud, he landed next to the granite gravestone.

Jim and B'layr were immediately at his side. Jim ran sensitive hands over the small body, assessing damage. The elfling began to squirm, tears forming in the clear, blue eyes. "He's broken his leg," Jim told his mate. "Shhh, shhh ... just hold still." He spoke softly to his son, soothing the child with gentle strokes. Slowly, he straightened the limb in question, which had been folded beneath the small body. "Remember what I told you about the dials? Control the pain, turn it down."

The small face scrunched up in concentration, the young elf trying bravely to do as he was told. Finally, his face relaxed, and he smiled up at his Sire.

"Better?" Jim asked. When the child nodded, he ran his hand down the length of the shinbone. When he didn't get a response to his touch, he addressed T'erin once more. "Now close your eyes and concentrate on the dials. Keep touch as low as you can." When the elfling had complied, a quick jerk of the leg popped the bone ends back together. He looked up at B'layr. "Go fetch the splints from the first aid kit, then bring the Healer."

B'layr sprinted back to the cabin, pulling their extensive first aid kit from beneath the bed. He gathered the splits and bindings, and delivered them to his mate before turning to the long house to find K'tan.

By the time the Healer arrived, Jim had T'erin in his own bed, the broken leg braced and held still by pillows packed to either side. K'tan sat on the edge of the bed and examined Jim's handiwork. "It is good. I will make a tea to help with the discomfort and to ward off any possible infection," he said, pulling the needed herbs from a pouch on his belt. "The elfling does not yet have complete control of his Sentry abilities. Until then, the pain reliever will be useful."

Jim nodded his agreement, taking the herbs and crossing the room to the pot of hot water kept by the fireplace. Dropping the herbs into a cup, he poured the water over them, allowing them to steep for a few minutes. Blowing on the concoction to cool it, he carried the cup back to the bed.

T'erin made a face as the brew was brought to his lips. "Ugh! Sire, no, please," he pleaded. "The drinks the Healer makes taste bad."

Jim smiled in agreement, but urged the drink on his son. "I know, T'erin, but soon your leg will begin to hurt, and you don't have the ability to control the pain reliably. You need to rest; the Healer's drink will help you to sleep."

"I do not want it!" The child clamped his mouth shut against the bitter tea. "I won't!"

"Turning down your medicine is not an option," B'layr said reasonably, coming to sit opposite his mate. He brushed the long, wild curls from his son's face and smiled at the stubborn child. "You will drink this." He took the cup from Jim's hand and pressed it to T'erin's lips. Reluctantly, the child opened his mouth and took a small sip. He wrinkled his nose, but didn't protest as B'layr tipped the cup, forcing him to finish the contents. "Now, you will close your eyes and sleep."

When the child had complied, Jim looked up at his soulmate. "How do you do that?"

"Do what, my heart?"

"Make him drink that stuff," Jim said, waving his hand at the cup B'layr still held.

"It does not take 'rocket science', " the elf chuckled. "You only need to convey who is in charge."

"He doesn't listen to me," Jim complained softly.

"I am his mother," B'layr responded, equally soft, as though that explained it all.

"Will T'erin be all right?" K'tiri walked up to the bed, slightly cowed by the presence of the Healer. She snuggled into B'layr's embrace and turned her face up to eye her Bearer. "It was my idea to climb the tree to see the eggs."

"This was not your fault," B'layr assured her. "T'erin could have said no. We could have stopped you. Children will be children. Your brother has learned a lesson today and has gained valuable practice using his Sentry skills. What have you learned?"

K'tiri looked thoughtful. Then, with wisdom beyond her tender years, her face grew serious and she said, "I have learned that a good leader does not encourage her people to perform foolish acts. But I did not ask him to do anything I was afraid to do," she added.

B'layr placed a kiss on the small forehead. "No, you did not," he agreed. "But a good leader also does not take foolish risks herself."

K'tiri dropped her head, leaning to rest against B'layr's chest. The elf gathered his child close and held her.

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"She was quite a tomboy," B'layr said with a smile, watching as several attendants swarmed around their regal daughter.

"That she was," Jim chuckled. "It's amazing we survived her growing up."

B'layr joined the laughter. "Tell me about it! Remember the graduation ceremony?"

Jim grimaced, and then grinned.

>>>>*<<<<

Twenty-one years earlier—B'layr's Graduation

"Jim, where are the twins?" B'layr stepped out of the fitting room where he'd been trying on his graduation gown.

"They're right..." Jim began to gesture toward a corner of the room where the children had been playing, but they were nowhere in sight. "Ah, shit! They were right here a minute ago!"

"How could you lose them?" B'layr asked, taking Jim's elbow and maneuvering him out the door of the shop. "You are a Sentry, for God's sake!"

"I just ... it was just for a minute...." Jim stammered.

"You were listening to me, were you not?" It wasn't an accusation. B'layr's voice held a hint of amusement as well as compassion.

"Smelling, actually," Jim corrected, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. "You have that particular scent about you right now. I couldn't help myself."

"Maybe they should have taken my ovaries as well," B'layr commented, steering Jim down the sidewalk of the busy street. "I am sorry I still give off the mating scent, even though I can no longer bear."

"I'm not," Jim said softly, directing his senses outward, searching for the missing twins. "They went that way." He pointed down the street toward Holden Park.

"It makes sense that they would head toward the only green left in the city." B'layr nodded and led the way across the street. Jim ran up behind him, holding up his hands toward the oncoming traffic. Car horns blared as the elf crossed against the light, determined to get to his missing offspring.

Once they were safely across, Jim grabbed B'layr's arm, turning him around so they were face to face. "You could have been killed! B'layr, you've been to the city often enough to remember you have to wait for the light!"

"Our children are missing," his mate replied. "What would you have me do? We cannot leave them alone here. It is too dangerous."

Deciding this was not the time to argue, Jim lifted his head and scented the air. "This way." He took off to the left, heading into the central area of the park. Minutes later he paused; opening up his sight and hearing, he scanned the area.

Quiet giggles drew his attention toward a large oak. Nudging his mate, he headed in the direction of the tree. "I don't know, Chief," he said with a wink. "I think the kids are gone for good. We'll just have to get used to life without them."

"Too bad," B'layr agreed, having spotted the delinquent elflings in the branches. "I will miss them, though. I guess we will never know if K'tiri would one day fulfill the legend of the tribal Chieftess." The giggling grew louder. "I suppose that now L'anin will be responsible for bringing about the prophecy, as I can no longer bear." He sighed. An acorn fell from above to bounce off his head. Looking up, B'layr grinned.

Jim's eyes followed those of his mate. "Well, well... It looks as though the prophecy has a chance of coming true after all." The twins scrambled higher up the tree, giggling profusely at having been discovered. Jim shook his head and firmed up his voice. "Get your little elfin butts down here now, or I'm sending your mother up after you," he threatened.

"Oh, good one, Jim," B'layr laughed. "That should frighten them into coming down." He approached the trunk of the tree and began to climb. Before he could reach a solid perch on the lowest limb, the elflings had begun their descent.

Once they were back safely on the ground, B'layr took the twins' hands and sat down with them beneath the tree. "You are never to go off on your own in the city," he admonished. "It is very dangerous here. Not only are there big machines that can hurt you, but also many of the people are not to be trusted. You must stay close. Why did you wander off?"

"It's boring here!" K'tiri huffed. "The city is ugly and noisy. We just wanted to find something green."

"I felt much the same when I first came to the city," B'layr admitted. "But you should have said something to your Sire or to me, and not gone off on your own like that. We may tease, but we would be heartbroken if you were truly gone."

"We're sorry, Mother," T'erin said in a small voice. "We will not go off again without you."

"You are both forgiven," B'layr said. "But I will not easily forget the fright you have given us. We will go back to the loft, and there you will stay until the graduation ceremony."

"Mooooootherrrrr..." K'tiri whined. "Do we have to?"

"You bet you do!" Jim chimed in, taking T'erin's hand. "Let's go."

Rainier University Auditorium

"Amanda Easterly." "Samuel Edmond." "Roderick Egan." The list of names droned on as the graduates paraded across the wide stage to receive their diplomas and shake the hand of the Chancellor.

"How much longer until Mother's turn?" K'tiri asked, squirming in her seat.

"Not much longer," Jim assured her. "Just sit still and be quiet."

"Cheryl Eichmann." "Roberta Eisele." "Michael Eldridge."

K'tiri slipped lower in her seat until she was able to slide onto the floor and crawl away while her Sire's attention was riveted on the stage.

"Kathryn Elkhorn." "Lester Elliott." "B'layr Ellison."

As his name was called, B'layr stepped up onto the stage, striding quickly to the center to accept his diploma. K'tiri made a dash for the stage, running across the polished wood to where her startled Bearer stood.

"Mother!" The young elf reached her arms up, begging to be held. B'layr reached down and picked her up, transferring the mortarboard to his daughter's head. Unashamed and proud, B'layr shook the Chancellor's hand, and then held up his diploma in a victory gesture. K'tiri rode off the stage, secured against her Bearer's hip.

Jim and T'erin met the pair as they came down from the stage, Jim taking the squirming elfling from B'layr's arms and setting her on the floor.

"Do not be angry with her," B'layr told his mate, who was preparing to soundly reprimand their headstrong daughter. "She was only excited, and wished to be a part of the ceremony."

The two adults watched with amusement as rapid-fire chattering went on between the twins as they traded off wearing the mortarboard and playing with the tassel.

"Someday, the center of attention will be on K'tiri alone." B'layr's eyes shone with pride—for himself, and for the future of the tribes.

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"Mother! Sire!" L'anin waved from the edge of the meadow, moving slowly toward them. He was flanked by A'mara, who supported his weight and helped him cross to where his parents waited.

The couple arrived, and B'layr helped lower his son onto the blanket they had spread on the grass. "How much longer?" he asked, looking between L'anin and his soulmate.

L'anin's hand rested on his swollen belly, stroking the fullness. "It will be good if I can last until the coronation ceremony is complete," he panted.

"Lie back," B'layr commanded. When L'anin had complied, B'layr lifted the skirt of the maternity dress his son wore and scooted between his spread legs. Lifting his son's ample cock out of the way, he probed the birth opening with his fingers. "It has begun," he pronounced, backing up and pulling the skirt down. "You are opening your body in preparation to bring this elfling into the world. It will not be much longer."

"How long?" A'mara turned to his friend, concern for his young soulmate etched onto his face.

B'layr smiled. "Soon, but not right now. By day's end you will hold your child."

"I did not believe this was possible," A'mara said, his face gleaming with joy.

"This is a time for miracles," B'layr responded, resting a hand on his friend's arm.

>>>>*<<<<

Thirteen months earlier

A'mara watched the twins as they studied their lessons at the dining table under the tutelage of their Bearer. Sitting on the edge of the bed next to L'anin, he turned and smiled at the young Sentry. "It would seem that the time has come for me to move on. The twins have grown quickly and now blossom under the attention they receive from their Bearer and Sire."

"No," L'anin protested. "You have become a part of the family. K'tiri and T'erin consider you their foster-Bearer. You do not need to leave."

"My heart," A'mara whispered, resting a hand on L'anin's shoulder. "The elflings have nearly come of age. Soon, you will go out on Quest and bring home your own soulmate. I no longer have claim to this bed."

"But I care for you," L'anin persisted. Pulling the older elf into his arms, he kissed him soundly. "I do not wish to share my bed with another."

A'mara's arms wrapped around his dear friend as he melted into the kiss. When L'anin fell silent, he spoke. "And I do not wish to leave it. But you must find your mate and bear young. You have the Gift, and it must be passed to the next generation."

"The twins both bear the Gift as well," L'anin argued. "It is not necessary that I pass along my inheritance."

"Sentry!" A'mara spoke sharply, although he kept his voice low. "Your Gift is far too valuable. Do not think that this is easy for me, either, but you must seek your soulmate."

"I wish for you to be my mate," the younger elf said softly. His hands ran up and down the lithe body of his elder, uncaring of the audience his argument had created. K'tiri and T'erin looked up from their schoolwork to stare at their older brother.

"Elflings!" B'layr snapped, bringing the attention of the twins back to their teacher. "To be a Sentry is to know when to use one's senses and when not to. This is not the time or the place."

"Sorry, Mother," T'erin apologized, turning back to the book he was studying.

"L'anin cannot choose A'mara for his mate," K'tiri protested. "A'mara is old enough to be his Bearer, and has already mated once. He cannot again."

"We do not know that for a fact," B'layr stated. "Just because it has never been observed, does not mean it cannot exist. And, it is none of your business. You are not yet Chieftess, young lady."

K'tiri snorted. "I will be soon. Then, what I say becomes law."

B'layr pulled himself to his full height, which was only slightly taller than his daughter. "Coming of age does not necessarily bring with it the succession of leadership. J'anin will turn over his responsibilities only when he deems you worthy to lead the Ten Tribes. A leader who does not even know the basic courtesies cannot command respect."

K'tiri hung her head. "I am sorry." Peeking up through long lashes, her blue eyes sparkled. "Perhaps we should take a nature walk, and you could teach us more of herbs and medicinal lore."

"That is a fine idea," B'layr agreed, "and worthy of a leader." He ushered the elflings out of the cabin, giving L'anin and A'mara some much needed privacy.

A'mara slumped, his whole body language shouting his misery. "They are correct. I was once mated and cannot mate again. There is only one soulmate, one love, and mine perished many years ago."

"But Mother said..."

"Your Bearer is learned and wise," A'mara said. "But never has an elf taken a second soulmate. We have become close; have shared a bed for nearly twenty-five Turns-of-Seasons, but I cannot give you a child, nor you one to me."

"Can you not feel it?" L'anin persisted. "My heart breaks at the thought of losing you."

"We love, Sentry. But love is not enough. You must mate and bear young. You must sire many elflings. The Gift must be passed on."

"It is more!" L'anin insisted. "Feel it! Please ... do not leave me." The last words came out as a choked sob. A'mara stood and began pulling away. L'anin grasped his hand, tugging him back.

A'mara clasped L'anin's tear-stained face between his palms, bending to kiss the top of his head. "You feel something because you want it so badly, my heart; as do I, but it cannot be."

"Do not leave," L'anin sobbed softly. "Do not leave me."

"It is time for you to go out on your Quest," the elder told him. "Your body cries out for its completion, and you must find it."

"I do not wish to go."

"Nor I to have you leave," A'mara whispered. "But this is the fate dealt to us. I lost a soulmate, and you have lost a lover. You must look to the future. You will soon forget about what we had once you find your soul's mate." A'mara stood and pulled L'anin to his feet. "It is time, my heart. Pack lightly and leave on your Quest. The mating scent is strong on you. I fear I may not be able to resist you much longer. Go. Seek your soulmate."

With a heavy heart, L'anin picked up the knapsack he had packed weeks ago. Flinging it over one shoulder, he walked to the cabin door. "Tell Mother where I have gone."

"I will do that," A'mara promised.

~oO0Oo~

Seven weeks later, L'anin returned: gaunt, weak, tired and ... alone. As he stumbled across the threshold of the cabin, B'layr greeted him with open arms and a mewl of concern. "Elfling! Child of my soul, you are home; you are ill." He helped his son to the softness of his bed, pulling the blankets up under L'anin's chin. "I will bring you some broth."

"Mother." The softly spoken word stilled B'layr's retreat. "Is A'mara here?"

"He is at the long house," B'layr said, turning to eye his son.

"Can you ... bring him?" The slight hesitation in L'anin's quiet voice was heartbreaking.

B'layr nodded, abandoning his mission to bring sustenance to the weakened elf. He slipped out the door, heading for the long house. A few minutes later, A'mara came running, bursting through the cabin's door to kneel beside his lover's bed.

"L'anin, my heart!" He stroked the sweat-soaked forehead. A thin arm snaked its way from beneath the covers, the hand grasping A'mara's arm with a startling strength.

"My soul," L'anin whispered in return. "Do not make me leave you again."

"Your Quest?" A'mara asked.

"There is no one. No one but for you." The musk of mating hung heavily over the bed. L'anin panted through the fever that consumed him.

A'mara swooned, the mating scent heavy in his nostrils. "There is no one, but for you," he repeated back, crawling onto the bed.

~oO0Oo~

Sweaty bodies lay entwined beneath the thin coverlet. L'anin's aquamarine eyes sparkled with life in his thin face. Full lips dove in to capture A'mara's once more. When they came up for air, the younger elf laughed.

"Who said it was impossible? A'mara, my soul, I carry your child."

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"Help me make him comfortable." B'layr rolled some extra furs into a bolster for L'anin to rest against.

A'mara fussed over his laboring soulmate. "Should we not take him to the birthing platform?"

"All in good time," B'layr replied. "He is not yet ready."

"I am more than ready," L'anin panted through the contractions. "How did you manage, Mother? I do not know if I wish to do this again."

"Wait until you hold your child," B'layr told him. "All will be worth the pain then. There is nothing more magical than a newborn."

Jim, who had been standing on the fringes watching the elves tend his pregnant son, stepped forward. "I think they're about ready for K'tiri's ceremony." He gestured toward the center of the meadow, where their youngest child rested comfortably with attendants surrounding her.

B'layr smiled and shook his head. "To think that K'tiri, also, will give birth soon. The prophecies appear to be true."

>>>>*<<<<

Eleven months earlier, the twins' Coming of Age celebration

S'kur of the Bear Tribe cautiously approached the strange, female elf. He had been eyeing her all night. The festivities surrounding the Coming of Age ceremony for the Wolf Tribe's twins were winding down, and soon his chance would be gone.

K'tiri danced in the firelight, her skin reflecting the warm golden-red glow. Curling auburn locks glinted with fiery red highlights, alternately covering and revealing her naked form as she writhed to the music of flute and drums. She gasped and spun around as a hand lightly touched her shoulder.

"Oh!" K'tiri stopped her dance to admire the handsome elf who stood before her. "You startled me."

"I beg forgiveness. I wished to make your acquaintance before the night ended. My name is S'kur, from the Tribe of the Bear."

K'tiri continued to study her new companion. His skin was slicked lightly with perspiration, giving his tanned complexion a ruddy glow in the light from the bonfire. She licked her lips as her gaze slid lower. Yes, here was one worthy of her furs for the night. She nodded, holding out her hand in invitation. "I am K'tiri of the Wolf Tribe."

S'kur took the offered hand shyly, pulling K'tiri closer. "I know. I have watched you all evening."

"Why did you not join the dance?" K'tiri wondered.

"I did not wish to intrude. I am a guest and not known to you."

"I wish to know you better," K'tiri said with a sultry smile. "Come, let us learn more of one another." She led the elf out of the clearing to a small hut. For the ceremony, the twins had built the traditional sleeping huts instead of using the cabin.

K'tiri pulled her suitor down onto the furs, stretching out her slender body for S'kur to explore. Fascinated by the curves and swells laid out beneath him, S'kur stroked the silken skin, feeling himself grow hard with anticipation.

The warmth of the rising sun touched the couple curled together on the sleeping furs. K'tiri's hand caressed her flat belly, a smile curling her lips as she watched her lover sleep. New life had been created as the prophecy had foretold.

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"She certainly didn't waste any time testing the old tales," Jim agreed, smiling. "K'tiri was always a handful, even at the best of times."

The sound of a horn brought everyone's attention to the center of the meadow. M'aris stood next to the chair where K'tiri rested, regal, even in repose. "Today marks a milestone in the history of the Ten Tribes," he intoned. "Today a new leader is recognized, and the tribes shall be united as one."

A great cheer went up from the assembled elves. Jim nodded and smiled at his family, then made his way through the press of bodies to where his daughter waited.

"For twenty-five Turns-of-Seasons I have held the mantle of Chieftain as your regent," Jim told his daughter. "Today it is my honor and my pleasure to lay my responsibilities at your feet." As he spoke, he removed the beautifully hand-woven cape that B'layr had made for the occasion and draped it across K'tiri's shoulders. He helped her to stand, then turning toward the assembled elves, he escorted her down the steps and into the midst of her people. "I give you our new Chieftess. May she rule with wisdom."

Another cheer went up as the young elf was surrounded by the members of the combined tribes. S'kur fought his way to his lover's side, protecting his pregnant mate from the onslaught of her admirers.

Jim backed away, relieved to be just another tribe member once more. He made his way through the press of the crowd back to where his soulmate tended their firstborn through his labor.

L'anin's face was beaded with sweat as he panted through another contraction, moaning his discomfort. B'layr looked up as his soulmate approached.

"The labor is advancing more quickly than I had anticipated," he said. "L'anin is nearly fully open, and the elfling has already begun his passage down the birth canal."

Another contraction gripped the first-time Bearer and he cried out. "By the gods, Mother! Make it stop!"

A'mara gripped his soulmate's hand and held on tightly. "I am here, my heart. You are doing well; I am very proud of you."

"No more! Finish it! I will not do this again!" L'anin screamed, his face turning red with the effort his body was putting forth to birth their child.

"Shhh, shhh...." A'mara soothed. "It will be over soon. You are so beautiful, so perfect. You can do this, my heart. You are bringing a new Sentry into the world. Rejoice!"

L'anin's reply was a muffled curse.

"We need to get him to the birthing platform," B'layr said, looking up at Jim. "It will not be easy with him this close. I do not wish to take attention away from K'tiri, but L'anin will not wait."

"Between the three of us, we can carry him there," Jim suggested, kneeling next to his son.

Gently, they lifted L'anin and carried him across the meadow to where the birthing platform had been set up. B'layr went to fetch K'tan, the Healer, while A'mara carefully undressed his mate, preparing him for the imminent birth.

K'tan stood to one side of the platform, observing the laboring elf. "The honor of the birthing goes to the Bearer," he said to B'layr. "You will bring this child into the world, as you brought L'anin, himself. I stand by only in case of complications."

B'layr nodded and mounted the platform, kneeling between the spread legs of his son. "Keep him calm," he instructed A'mara.

A'mara began stroking the sweat-soaked hair of his mate, making soothing sounds to the oblivious elf.

L'anin felt as though he was swimming upstream against a strong current. Wave after wave of contractions clenched at his belly, putting him in a place beyond pain. Vaguely, through the haze, he was aware of his Bearer's hand pressing on his belly and of a familiar voice coaxing him. "Push, L'anin. Push your child into the world." He made every effort to comply, pushing his body to its limits.

"Good!" B'layr crowed as he saw the head begin to pass the opening. "Just a little more, L'anin! Push! Push! You can do this, my son." Moments later, "Yes!" Triumphantly, B'layr lifted the child high for all the tribe to see, then laid the infant at his Bearer's breast, covering mother and child with a softly woven blanket. "You have done well, Elfling."

L'anin gave his Bearer a tired smile. "I am no longer your Elfling, Mother," he chided. "I now have one of my own."

"That you do, child of mine, but you shall always remain my firstborn." B'layr bent to kiss first his son, then his grandson. "This is indeed a day for celebration."

>>>>*<<<<

Two years earlier

"This is indeed a day for celebration," M'aris shouted to the crowd of the assembled Wolf Tribe. "Today, B'layr, soulmate of J'anin, Bearer of L'anin, T'erin and K'tiri, achieves the venerable honor of seeing his one hundredth Turn-of-the-Seasons. Congratulations, Centurion!"

"Oh, God, I feel so old," B'layr whispered in an aside to Jim.

"What do you mean?" Jim said with a chuckle. "You are old!"

"Thus spake he who has seen a mere eighty-nine Turns," hissed his mate.

"Get out there; enjoy yourself!" Jim gave his lover a gentle shove into the open circle where the ancient ex-Chieftain and Healer stood.

A roar rose up from the crowd, accompanied by much applause. Flutes and drums struck up a lively tune as B'layr stripped to stand before the Elders. M'aris and K'tan took small bowls of colorful paint and began drawing a pictograph history of B'layr's life on his naked body. When they were finished, the Honoree led the tribe in a ritual dance.

Jim joined his mate, stripping without shame after many years of becoming accustomed to the elvish rituals. Their bodies rubbed together, until both were smudged with the paint of B'layr's life.

"And what do these symbols mean?" Jim asked, fingering the red blurs painted up the shaft and head of B'layr's very erect penis.

"They speak of my fertility," B'layr said proudly, feeling his cock twitch at the welcome touch. "If you were an elf, I could still impregnate you, even though I can no longer bear. And I have born three—more than the tribes have seen in a generation."

"Well, my very fertile mate ... how about we go test drive this little hotrod?" Jim gave a small jerk to the painted organ, pulling B'layr close.

B'layr laughed until tears ran down his face at the unintended double entendre.

In the quiet of their cabin, hot, unrestrained sex was followed by slow, nurturing sex. The two participants were coated in a smear of paints, sweat and semen, sealing their love for the next hundred years.

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"Knock, knock. Anyone home?" B'layr's knuckles rapped lightly against Jim's temple.

"Huh?" The startled Sentry looked around.

B'layr grimaced. "Did you zone on me?"

"No. No ... I-I was just remembering something." He blushed. "Sorry."

"No need. You were only 'gone' a short while." B'layr smiled reassuringly. "Would you like to share?"

"Something you said reminded me of your hundredth birthday. That's all," Jim confessed.

"Uh-huh," B'layr grunted, nodding. "And I suppose you'd like to recreate a part of that celebration as well?"

"Couldn't hurt," Jim said, nudging his mate. "But later. It isn't every day we become grandparents." He knelt next to L'anin and the baby, who was suckling contentedly on one of his Bearer's teats. "Have you picked a name?" he asked his son.

L'anin tore his eyes from the miracle at his breast to look at his Sire and smile. "A'mere, for he shall have a long and fruitful life."

Jim was about to reply, when a commotion from behind him drew his attention. The crowd of onlookers parted to allow their Chieftess to pass. K'tiri made her way to the birthing platform, taking her Sire's place at L'anin's side.

"Oh, my brother," she crooned, stroking the soft down of hair on the baby's head. "Was it very difficult?" Her other hand caressed her own swollen belly.

L'anin shook his head. "I would do it again and again ... for this," he said, beaming a smile at A'mere. "The pain is swift, and when it departs only joy is left behind."

"He is beautiful," she said, sighing. "I wish an end to my own bearing. It has been a long year."

"Soon, my sister," L'anin assured her. "You will find the wait to have been worth the discomfort."

"I suppose," K'tiri agreed. "I will have much to occupy my time and take my mind away from my belly." She paused, then smiled. "Congratulations, my brother. You have done well bringing a strapping new Sentry into the tribe."

"Soon, the Gift will be commonplace," L'anin said with a grin, "and I shall have more time to pursue other interests."

K'tiri laughed. "You wish. My brother, your skills and knowledge will long be needed by the tribe, no matter how many Sentries issue from our loins." She watched as L'anin smiled at her, his eyelids heavy with sleep. "Rest now. You have earned it." She bent to kiss his forehead, then that of her nephew.

As K'tiri turned to take her leave, B'layr snagged her elbow, halting her progress. "Have you seen T'erin? I have not spoken with him in several days. I assumed he would return for your coronation."

"He is here," K'tiri answered, scanning the crowd for her twin. "I saw him with S'kur not long ago."

"I will find him; thank you." B'layr kissed his daughter's cheek and waded into the crowd, followed by Jim.

"Surely he took time out from his new duties to see his sister become Chieftess," Jim remarked as they made their way through the milling throng of elves. "I know he was always very serious about his Sentry duties, but he and K'tiri were nearly inseparable."

>>>>*<<<<

Approximately ten years earlier

"Sire, I am ready." T'erin stood tall next to his father, his thin adolescent frame accentuating his height. Shouldering a quiver of arrows, he picked up his bow and looked at Jim expectantly.

Jim nodded. "Soon you'll be old enough to be tested and to take your place as an official Sentry in the tribe. As Senior, I deem you prepared to take patrol on your own. It should take you two days to scout the entire border of the tribe's lands. Report to me when you have completed your task, and we will go before M'aris to request your testing."

"Yes, Sire!" The young elf turned his back on his father, striding out with purposeful steps to patrol and scout on his own.

"He is strong in the Gift."

Jim turned, startled from his reverie by the voice of his mate. "Yeah.... He has more potential than either L'anin or myself. I suspect he'll grow to be Senior Sentry of the combined tribes someday."

"But do you not worry, at least a little? I know that I do."

"You're his mother. You always were more empathetic than I was." He turned to gather his soulmate into his arms, gazing down into the liquid blue depths of B'layr's eyes. "He'll do fine. You'll see."

T'erin returned nearly a half day early from his patrol. "Sire!" He came running up to Jim, panting slightly with the effort. "There is a hunter inside our borders. I found K'aar injured just past the northern reach."

"How badly injured?" Jim had grabbed his son by both shoulders, fingers digging into the lean flesh.

"He was able to travel. I accompanied him to safe haven before coming here."

"Bring L'anin and K'tiri, and follow me." Jim started out in the direction indicated by his son. Shortly, he was joined by the Sentries of his family. "Fan out and stay back. Cover me with your senses, not your physical presence. I can handle another human better than you. No need exposing yourselves, if it isn't necessary."

The younger Sentries spread out, following their Sire with both sight and hearing. Jim strode out, finding a well-worn deer track and following it down through the trees. Just inside the borders of the Wolf Tribe's territory, he spotted the hunter. He approached quietly, but openly.

"Hello!" he called, startling the man.

"Quiet!" came the hissed response. "You'll scare the game."

"Game is scarce in these parts," Jim replied, keeping his voice level. "What are you doing so deep in the forest?"

"Following one of them," the hunter answered.

"'Them'?" Jim feigned puzzlement. "Who are 'they'?"

"Elves," the hunter whispered back. "I think I got one with my last shot."

"Elves?" Jim chuckled. "Have you been smoking the wacky weed before coming out here? Whoever heard of elves outside of fairy tales?"

"There are rumors; everyone's heard 'em. I saw one myself. Winged him, I'm sure."

"There are rumors of Bigfoot, too, but I don't see one of them walking around here," Jim argued.

"Sasquatch is a myth, but I've seen an elf!" the hunter insisted.

"Sasquatch ... elves.... What's the difference?" Jim shrugged. "They're both figments of over-active imaginations. What you saw was undoubtedly a fellow hunter ... or a play of light and shadow through the trees. I've covered a lot of ground in this area, and I haven't seen evidence of elves, or anyone else for that matter, except you." The hunter shifted uncomfortably, gripping his rifle more tightly. "Why don't you move on back down the trail? I recall seeing several deer in the Rock Creek area, just southwest of here."

"Why should I trust you?" the man asked, still looking around as though expecting something to jump from concealment and attack.

"Because I practically live in these woods, and I know what I'm talking about," Jim answered, taking the man by an elbow and steering him away from his tribe. He walked beside the man, making sure he left the area. "My name's Jim," he offered.

"Mackie," the man answered back, smiling for the first time since their encounter.

"Nice to meet you, Mackie," Jim said, slapping the man on the shoulder. "So, any luck yet this season?"

"Got me a nice four-point buck a couple weeks back," Mackie answered.

Slowly, their voices faded from the hearing of the watchful Sentries. T'erin's vision tracked the two men a bit farther, before the trees swallowed their trail. The three waited patiently until their Sire's return.

"He was a stubborn one," Jim reported upon returning to his family. "I finally convinced him to try Rock Creek."

"That is well," L'anin said, relief coloring his voice. "Rock Creek is far from any of the elvish territories."

Jim wrapped an arm around T'erin's shoulders. "Looks to me like you've earned the right to come before M'aris and undertake the trials."

T'erin's grin lit up his face. Soon his place as a tribal Sentry would be assured.

>>>>*<<<<

Present time

"I see him! Over there!" B'layr pointed over the heads of the crowd. Slowly, they made their way through the press of bodies to their younger son.

"Mother! Sire!" T'erin threw himself into B'layr's welcoming arms.

"It is good to see you!" B'layr wrapped his arms around his son and hugged him. "It has been too long."

"The Bear Tribe welcomed me most enthusiastically," T'erin told his parents with a smile. "They had prayed long for a Sentry of their own."

"With the birth of K'tiri's child, you may someday have competition," B'layr said with a chuckle.

T'erin smiled. "He will be most welcome. I look forward to being able to pass down my training to another generation."

"L'anin has just given birth," B'layr informed his son. "You must come and pay your respects."

"You could not keep me away if you tried," T'erin said, leading the way back through the crowd to where his older brother rested with A'mere cradled in his arms. "I see you have been busy, Brother."

L'anin looked up with sleep-heavy eyes. "That is so. T'erin, meet your nephew, A'mere."

T'erin knelt beside the pair, chucking the newborn under the chin with his index finger. "He's a strapping young fellow, isn't he?"

"Tell me about it," L'anin sighed. "You did not have to give birth to him." The two brothers shared a chuckle before weariness overcame L'anin once more, and he yawned widely.

"I will let you rest, now," T'erin said with one last stroke of the silken hair on his nephew's head. "You have earned it."

The sun set and a bonfire was lit in the meadow. Musicians played, while the members of the combined tribes ate and danced in celebration.

Jim approached his mate and took his elbow, steering B'layr off to one side. "It's been a long day," he began.

"That it has," B'layr agreed. "One filled with much happiness and reason for rejoicing."

"But we old folks don't have the stamina that we used to."

"Speak for yourself," B'layr replied with a laugh, turning back to the festivities.

"I was only thinking about a little quiet time," Jim insisted, pulling B'layr into a light embrace. "Maybe a short nap." He bent to kiss the full lips that were turned up toward his.

"I do not think sleeping is what occupies your thoughts," the elf replied, gripping his mate's erection through the soft fabric of his slacks.

Jim hissed at the touch, pulling B'layr in closer. "You want it, too. I can smell it on you." His voice was intense with need.

"I would never attempt to lie to a Sentry," B'layr agreed, melting into his soulmate's embrace. "I do not suppose that we will be missed. Come, let us 'rest'. "

The cabin was a half hour's walk away. By the time the pair reached its door, both were naked. B'layr rested in Jim's arms, his legs wrapped around his mate's waist, their cocks rubbing together with delicious friction. Jim carried the elf across the threshold, depositing him on their rumpled bed.

B'layr pulled his mate after him, siphoning the air from Jim's lungs with a soul shattering kiss. He rolled to lie atop his mate, undulating his hips against the insistent thrust from below. Both man and elf came in an explosive climax.

Sliding off his lover, B'layr snuggled against Jim's side, burying his tousled head of curls beneath his mate's chin. "Oh, God, Jim! Wow...."

Jim wrapped his arms around the sated elf, securing him tightly to his side. "I love how sex leaves you virtually speechless," he chuckled. After a few moments, he released his firm hold and began peppering kisses down B'layr's neck and across his shoulder. The mating scent was still strong on the elf, and he knew what was required to sate the need. He was pleasantly surprised to feel B'layr's cock begin to fill again, pressing against his thigh.

B'layr stirred, stretching languorously beneath the rain of kisses. His hand snaked out, caressing the round firmness of his lover's ass. A finger found the crease and traced its way down to Jim's opening.

The gentle touch on his anus fired Jim's passion, sending bolts of desire coursing through his body, straight to his cock. He rubbed himself against B'layr's belly, letting his soulmate know of his need.

Ignoring the pulsing rod against his stomach, B'layr readied his lover. Dipping his fingers into the bowl of ointment they kept by the bed, he gently stretched the opening.

Jim moaned beneath him, rubbing his abandoned cock into the mattress in an attempt to find relief.

B'layr crawled over him, seeming to be all hands and mouth as the Sentry drank in the sensations of his soulmate's touch. A persistent pressure against his anus brought Jim back to reality. With a moan, he tried to relax and allow his lover to enter. It wasn't often that B'layr took the upper hand. His mate usually preferred the subordinate position, claiming that the filling of his body completed him in a way that no other form of touch could match. But tonight the feisty elf was riding an adrenaline high and needed to burn off the excess energy.

A cry issued from above him as B'layr breached the tight ring of muscle. Despite his need, B'layr started out with slow, smooth strokes, waiting until Jim was relaxed enough to enjoy himself.

Despite the initial discomfort, Jim found himself melting into the mattress, riding out the delicious pounding as his mate's strokes grew more rapid and intense. "Oh, God, B'layr..." he moaned. "Oh, God; oh God; ohgodohgodoh ... God!" Repeated pressure against his prostate, as B'layr angled for better penetration, sent an electric charge through his own aching organ, cresting in an orgasm that nearly knocked his smaller partner from his back.

"Jiiiiimmm!" B'layr cried, climaxing moments later. "My heart...." he whispered, draping himself bonelessly across Jim's back.

Eventually, the weight on his back became uncomfortable and Jim rolled over, dislodging B'layr from his resting place. He placed a kiss on the pert, upturned nose, causing incredible blue eyes to open and look at him. "Feeling better?" he asked, his voice soft. B'layr nodded, the barest whisper of a smile curling his lips. With a chuckle, Jim leaned in to claim a full kiss and then gathered his soulmate into his arms. A satisfied sigh issued from the elf as he cuddled against Jim's chest to sleep.

~oO0Oo~

The moon waxed and waned, waxing full once again.

K'tiri walked slowly toward the birthing platform, leaning heavily against her mate. S'kur supported her, waiting patiently when she would stop to breathe through another contraction.

A bonfire was lit in the small glade where members of the Wolf and Bear tribes gathered to witness the birth of their Chieftess's firstborn. K'tiri's bare skin glinted with red and gold highlights, her swollen belly casting a shadow before her as she mounted the steps and sank down on the furs.

As with L'anin, B'layr waited beside the platform to deliver his grandchild into the world. K'tan watched from a front row seat, in case his skills were needed. Once K'tiri was settled, B'layr stepped up and knelt between his daughter's spread legs. Leaning over the rise of her belly, he petted sweat-dampened hair away from her face. "Relax, Daughter. You will soon be delivered of your burden. Breathe, sweet one, breathe." He guided her through the overlapping contractions, directing her breathing and speaking to her with soft words of encouragement.

Finally, the time came. "You must push your child into the world," B'layr instructed. "Push ... now!"

K'tiri curled forward, supported from behind by S'kur, and strained to bring her child into the world.

"Enough for now; rest," B'layr told her. He situated himself so that he knelt on the first step of the platform, lowering his head and shoulders nearer to the level of the birth opening. "The child is coming. On the next contraction, push and do not let up until I tell you."

K'tiri nodded. Her face crinkled with effort as the next contraction rolled over her. She bore down, stoic and silent, in an effort to bring forth her child.

"Just a little more," B'layr coaxed, seeing the head begin to emerge. "That's it, Sweetheart, just like that ... good, good.... Now stop!" K'tiri gasped and stopped pushing as her Bearer cradled the small head in his hands and turned the tiny body to free the shoulders. "One more," he said looking up at his daughter from between her knees.

K'tiri smiled at her Bearer's bloodstained face and cooperated with another Herculean effort. Before B'layr could say another word, K'tiri stopped, having felt the passage of her child.

"You have a daughter," B'layr said softly. Then, holding the child high for the tribes to see, he announced, "K'tiri has brought us a Daughter of the Tribe!" As cheers went up from the assembled crowd, B'layr tied and cut the cord, placing the squalling elfling at her mother's breast.

"Thank you, Mother," K'tiri whispered as she watched her infant nurse. "You have given the Tribe a great gift—your granddaughter."

"The honor belongs to she who bore the child," B'layr said modestly. "You are the one who carried her for a Turn-of-Seasons. She is your pride, your joy."

"You and J'anin began the miracle," K'tiri insisted. "Your contribution to the Tribe will long be remembered in story and song."

"Now that you are safely delivered, it is time for us to go," B'layr said softly, acknowledging the arrival of his mate as a strong arm encircled his waist. "We have long awaited the day that we would be free to travel, to explore the world."

"You will take the Garden Stone, will you not?" K'tiri asked.

B'layr nodded. "It has long intrigued me," he admitted. "I wish to explore its origins, to see if I can find the beginnings of our race."

"Go with the blessing of the Tribe," K'tiri said, tears welling in her eyes. "Go now, before I can no longer stand the thought of separation."

"We will return," B'layr assured her, kissing her forehead and that of his new granddaughter. "I cannot bear the separation for long."

"She is beautiful," Jim said, finally speaking. He admired the deep blue of his granddaughter's eyes as she looked expectantly up at him. His large hand engulfed the tiny head, stroking the silky blonde curls. "Guard her well until our return."

"I will, Sire," K'tiri promised.

With a reluctant hand, Jim turned his soulmate away from their newest family member and guided him back toward their cabin. Heavy hearts became lighter steps as they neared their destination.

"I can hardly wait to see what we'll find in Mexico," B'layr said, bouncing on his toes as he walked. "Chichén Itzá will be fascinating!"

"We leave in the morning, Imp. Think you can sleep tonight?" Jim teased.

B'layr's face lit up with a seductive smile as he skipped ahead of Jim then turned to walk backward, taking his soulmate's hands and guiding him into the cabin. "Who says we need to sleep?"

THE END