The Ballad of Krek and Valar

Story by Of The Wilds on SoFurry

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#10 of DitD Outtakes

The long awaited history of Krek and Valar's last day together. Definitely a legitimate story to be treated and read with only the utmost respect.

Rated A for Adult for tender lovemaking and gentle language, and definitely not for April.


Krek sat upon a sandbank on an isolated stretch of river, just outside the village Valar called home. In the morning, he would leave to begin his long, difficult trip into Illandra, to begin serving the queen. Anxiety sat cold and coiled in his belly, sending little tendrils of tingling fear down each limb. With a single claw, he scribed a map in the sand. The gryphon wanted to ensure that Valar knew the route he was taking, just in case of trouble.

Valar himself sat nearby, staring at his reflection in the water. The river that raged only days earlier had calmed again, now that the skies had cleared, and the land had time to dry out. Whenever they came down here together, Valar always stared at the water that way. Wondering what could have been.

The gryphon lifted his black-furred paw and set it upon the dragon's neck. The ebony scales there were warm, and soft. Valar arched his neck into Krek's touch, a smile drifting over the dragon's blue-marked muzzle. Krek slid his paw down Valar's neck and over his shoulder till his pads drifted down the dragon's foreleg. Once his forepaw came to rest atop Valar's own blue front foot, Krek took a deep breath, only to heave it out in a long, drawn out sigh.

"There's something I need to tell you, Valar." The gryphon swallowed at the rising lump in his throat. "Something that...I have to get off my chest, before I go. It is..." He clicked his beak, green eyes tearing up as he glanced away. "Not easy."

The young dragon only smiled. He stretched a wing out to curl it across Krek's back, sheltering him. "Just take your time, Krek."

Krek nodded once, gritting his beak. Just say it. Just spit it out, bird. The gryphon sucked in another deep breath, feathers bristling. "Valar...I have always loved-" Down the riverbank, a sphere of writhing blue lightning erupted into being, blasting apart sand and turning water into hissing steam. Krek squawked in alarm. "Fuck me!"

Valar blinked. "What, now? I mean, I knew you loved that, but...I mean, if you insist!" He pulled his wing back and butted his horned head against the gryphon. "Roll over, then!"

"Not that!" Krek shoved Valar's head away, and pointed down the bank. "That!"

Valar glanced over his wing. "What, those naked humans fornicating? Yeah, that's why I don't let Ayly come down here anymore. Heehee, look where they have hair!"

"Not that, THAT!" Krek pointed slightly to the left.

Valar shifted around, gazing further down the bank. "What, the life size butter sculpture of Illandra's five-towered keep?" A proud grin stretched over the dragon's muzzle. "Ayly made that, before I banned from the beach. And if you think that's impressive, you should see what she could do with lard!"

"No, just in front of the life sized butter sculpture of Illandra's five-towered keep!"

"The scale model replica of the Star Wars Death Star that Ayly made from lard? I showed you that last night!"

"The urd'thin! The damn urd'thin dressed like a pirate fucked a box of crayons!"

Valar pushed himself to all fours and turned around. Striding across the bank was an urd'thin with sleek gray fur, black eyes like swirling ink, and a purple waistcoast, with a golden vest beneath, and dark green breeches. Black straps with golden buckles hung from the edges of his royal purple coat. "Oh, him? Huh...didn't see him there before. Is it me or did this story get really stupid after he arrived?"

"No!" The urd'thin called out as he reached the two of them. "The story got a lot more fun! No one wants to read some boring, mushy tale about your final moments together before you both started new lives." He wiggled his fists at his eyes, miming sobbing motions. "Oh booo hooo. But don't worry, your old pal Asterbury knows what the fans really wanna see!" The urd'thin clapped twice. "Now kiss!"

Suddenly, Krek was overwhelmed by an unstoppable urge to kiss the dragon. He grabbed Valar's head with one paw around each horn. He jerked Valar's head forward, and pressed his beak to the dragon's muzzle. Their tongues met, danced and twisted. Krek moaned against the dragon's muzzle, his sheath plumping up. For long moments, it was immeasurably romantic, just what he'd wanted for years and years-

And then Valar punched him in the balls.

"AWWRRAAAWWWWKKK!"

The gryphon squawked, eyes bugging out, as both his furry gryphon balls got flattened by the dragon's first. He dropped to the sand, writhing around in pain, eyes rolling back, beak grinding. "Ooooooh, me fookin' balls, me fooookin' baaaalls!"

The urd'thin tilted his head. "That's...not quite what I thought would happen..."

"Ahahahaha, that's what you get, you dirty bird, kissin' me like that!"

Krek slammed a hind paw into the dragon's testicles. "One for you, mate!

"OOOOOOHHHHHHRRRRRHH!" The dragon crumpled in an instant, cross-eyed and groaning. "Awwwwww, me bollocks! I'm gonna smoke you like a Christmas turkey!"

The gryphon twisted around, rubbing his fuzzy nuggets in his paws. "Fookin' come at me, mate! I'll pop one of yours like a Christmas plum!"

The dragon flopped around, blue-marked muzzle contorted. "I'll pound you right in the Christmas pud'!"

Asterbury scratched his muzzle. He waved a hand and a book spun into existence. "Seems I've given them terrible fake accents, and gotten them stuck on bad Christmas metaphors!" He flipped through the book, glancing up. "That's the wrong holiday, boys! It's April Fools, think pranks!"

"Right!" The dragon pushed himself up, growling. "I'm gonna do a shit in yer feathers, bird!"

The urd'thin blinked. "Do a shit?"

"You do, and I'll do a shit right in yer face, lizard!"

"Then I'll do a shit in your mouth!"

The urd'thin blinked. "Welp, I think that's one fetish too many for me, I'm out this bitch!"

Asterbury clapped his hands twice, and winked out of existence. "Peace oooouuuut!"

Krek and Valar slowly got back to their feet. Valar for the second time, since he'd just done that. "Well, what do we do now?"

"You could always rub my cockamajig, and I could fiddle with your thingamapenis?"

"That sounds like a plan."

Krek rolled back over and exposed his Staff of Impurity, Plus Five. Five because he had five balls. Valar began to tongue-spangle the gryphon's digeridoo. Behind him, a slow jam band climbed out of the butter castle, and Lard Vader emerged from inside the greasy Death Star. The jam band laid down a few lazy, wandering grooves, while the bass player slapped out some funky rhythms.

Lard Vader strolled up behind Valar, speaking in a booming yet raspy voice. "It's April Fools, Valar, and know what what that means."

Valar lifted his muzzle away from Krek's well-aged summer sausage. "I do?"

"Surprise butt-sex!"

Suddenly Korvarak appeared. "Did someone say surprise butt-sex?!"

Lard Vader pulled off his helmet. He was also Korvarak. "I did!"

Both Koravaraks took turns giving Valar surprise butt sex, while Krek, as always, went without. But that was okay, because Krek still had the clap from an April Fools story a few years later. But that's the waaaaay the news goes.

They all fucked happily ever after.

Except Krek, who it turned out only had butt-clap, and actually never got to put his crimson coal miner into anyone's love tunnel, and died, alone and penniless, and also a virgin or something.

Happy Easter everyone!