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Cyrus pulled his robes around him: there was an atypical spring in his step, and his brow was considerably less furrowed than usual as he ascended the spiral staircase to the top of the tower. He held a book of notes in his hand, one filled with all sorts of research he had done on the samples from the Badlands above the Kingdom of Auron's northern border.

He could just see the looks on everyone else's faces from where he was: an eagle from the Southern Bluffs making such an impression!

Of course, now he would have to go back and find evidence that the magic had, indeed, been siphoned out of the Earth by some magical battle in the distant past. And so, he looked at the top of his notes, to the letter he had penned to Captain Farryn: he and Farryn had kept in very close contact ever since Farryn had presided over his trip to the Northern Border, with letters fired off every other week, sometimes even every week. He knew the captain would be thrilled to hear of the progress his research had made.

Before he knew it, he was at the top of the tower. And so, he opened the door, finding all the pigeons roosting there.

"Greetings, Magister Cyrus!"

And here, the eagle blinked, turning his head to the side: he afforded himself a smile as he looked on the slender form of the bobcat who stood up from her desk, smile glinting in the sunlight. This was the only friend he had managed to make inside the magister's college since he'd returned from the Northern Border: she was the main attendant to the mail, and though she seemed rather young there was nobody else that the college would trust.

"Ah, Prisca," he said. "Hello!" He bowed her head towards her, before turning to his pigeon's roosting area.

Prisca nodded, her dark brown eyes turning to Cyrus. "You seem rather chipper today," she observed. "I assume your proposal went well?"

"Yes," said Cyrus. He looked up, seeing the pigeon roosting there, a slip attached to its leg. "They will send me back to the Northern Border with a small research team to search for some more substantial evidence, but they think I am on to something with my theory."

"That both sides of that war siphoned magical energy from that soil, right?" Prisca brushed a scarf out of the way.

"Yes," said Cyrus. He nodded. "It turns out, taking those samples from before the Post was also a good idea, it provided a nice control group for the other." He then reached for the pigeon, gently taking the slip off and settling it back with a delicate touch. "So now I get to go back to the Border Post."

"No doubt with the Captain," Prisca replied.

"Of course," said Cyrus. He unfurled the scroll. "Do you mind if I read here? I want to be sure I don't send any outdated information with my latest letter."

"Of course," Prisca replied. She patted a wall close by. "Here should be a good spot. I know those pigeons get rowdy if you let them."

Cyrus chuckled. "Of course," he said. "Thank you."

The eagle settled against the wall, unfurling the communication and inhaling as he read:

"Magister Cyrus,

I'm certain this letter will get to you when you have defended your thesis to the magisters. I hope that has gone well: I know how important it is to you, but if you have not defended it yet I will tell you that the report you sent me was so detailed that I'm certain they will listen to what you say.

I suppose you can tell me what happens with that in person, if you find the time: I will be coming to Karthin's palace soon for a ball with other captains throughout Auron. It is a necessary social function, of course, and I will have to present myself there. I don't intend to stay long, though: I will arrive in town the morning of the ball and leaving the next morning. I would rather not stay too long unless I must.

I know you are busy, however, so I will understand if you cannot make the time. But I would appreciate seeing you again. The ball will take place on the 16th of Kortania, so if you are available then please send a message to my family's villa: I will receive it there when I arrive."

Cyrus paused, his brows furrowing. The rest of the letter detailed various updates on Farryn's fellow Border Post guards, but the thought of Farryn coming down to his family's villa...

His brows furrowed, and he exhaled, shaking his head. "Well, that's not good news."

"What is it?" asked Prisca.

"Captain Farryn is coming to town in about four days," he said.

"Oh, for the Captain's Ball!" Prisca nodded, leaning back. "My own brother's coming from his post for that, it would stand to reason the Northern Border Post's captain would come as well."

Cyrus nodded. "I imagine he would not be very happy about it, though," he mentioned. He exhaled. "He says he is staying at his family's villa, after all. If I read him right from what he's said about Terryn and mentioned about being at his family's residence, then he would certainly appreciate a break from that, I think."

Prisca nodded, before exhaling. "Have you ever been to a royal ball before, though?"

"No," said Cyrus.

Prisca stood up, walking over to the roost and shaking her head. "If you thought the intrigues of the magister's college were bad, Cyrus, Karthin's court is infinitely worse," she said. "You'd be going into a den of lions."

"With a lion, I may point out," said Cyrus. He exhaled, shaking his head. "But I suppose it would make up for the fact I have yet to attend a single royal ball with the magisters as well."

"I guess you bring up a fair point," she said. She then stood up. "Still, there's a lot you'll need to prepare for: you'll need to know the court dances, you will need formal fashion, and I am certain an eagle from the Southern Bluffs showing his face there would turn heads."

Cyrus crossed his arms then, leaning his beak towards Prisca. The bobcat regarded his stern expression, before sighing.

"But, I also know the Southern Bluffs eagles are headstrong, particularly you," she said. She looked up. "If you wish, I can teach you the court dances."

Cyrus smiled, pushing off the wall. "I would appreciate that," he said. "Do you think a magister's formal wear would get in the way of my feet?"

Prisca laughed. "Trust me, Cyrus, if you saw the things women like us are expected to wear at a royal ball, you would find you have it easy even with your most formal robes," she said. She then rubbed her paws together. "Meet me in the common area tonight after the sun sets. We can get started, then."

Cyrus nodded. "Thank you, Prisca," he replied. "I will see you then."

And with this, he made his way to the door, gently folding his own letter and placing it back in his robes. It would serve very little function then, he knew, and better to save the news for when they could meet in person than any other time.

----**----

Farryn looked behind him as he dismounted from his horse. He was not typically one to ride on horseback, but for the captain's ball he had everything he needed at his family's old villa. This was a mixed blessing: he had very little packing to do and did not need to take too much with him, and he knew Tuketu was capable of running things at the Border Post without him. But on the other hand, he would have to face his family once again: Terryn would not be present, of course, but...

"Farryn! How wonderful to see you home!"

Thus, when his father stepped outside to greet him in his simple magister's tabard, Farryn looked on. He had learned to tamp down the exasperated sigh he used to give whenever he arrived home for this particular ball, but he still stepped forward with a similar hesitation.

"Hello, father," Farryn replied. He looked at the larger lion, offering a hand to shake to the magister.

"I hope your journey was a good one," Farryn's father replied. The magister smiled broadly as he shook his son's hand. "How are things at the border post?"

"Quiet," Farryn replied. "Ever since our escort mission there has been very little to report."

"That is always a good sign, I think," the elder lion replied. He looked down to Farryn. "And the ball tonight?"

Farryn exhaled: how he wished to go on about everything that he knew would annoy him at the ball! Captain Julius' non-stop bragging, the fact Captain Cornelius never seemed to know what the popular dances were all the time, the conversations he would have to hear between wives about how Farryn arrived at the ball alone yet again, and just the talk about the big subject in the room...

But he voiced none of this, instead shaking his head. "It is my duty," he said.

His father nodded. "Indeed it is," he said. He looked down to Farryn. "Perhaps someday you'll bring someone to the ball as a companion."

Farryn's ears drooped within his mane, and it was all that he could do to keep the rest of his body from following suit. "Someday," he said. "But that day will not be today, I think."

But his father only smiled down at his son as they made their way inside. "You will, someday," he said. "Whatever the court may think, there is no need to rush. It was around your age I met your mother, after all." He then looked up wistfully, a smile coming to his face. "And I dare say, it may never be too late to love someone."

Farryn nodded solemnly. For all that the ball reminded him of his obligations, Farryn at least could not fault his father for that: after all, there was very little he could do about that. But seeing the villa, seeing the status, and combined with the fact that this was not where he had thought his life would go...

"We will see." Farryn then entered the grand hall of the villa, with all of its fine tapestries and beautiful scarlet carpets. "Is everything ready in my quarters?"

"It should be," his father replied. He then bowed. "I will see you later tonight after the ball ends, no doubt?"

"Of course," Farryn replied. But even as he said this, he felt a pit settle in his stomach.

And then, he remembered what he had asked of Cyrus. "By the way," he said. "Are there any messages from the magic circle?"

"Oh?" Farryn's father shook his head. "No, I haven't heard anything." He tilted his head to the side as he regarded his son with a confused look. "Why do you ask?"

Farryn sighed: he expected this would happen somehow, but it was worth a shot. "No reason," he said. "Was just curious."

Farryn's father frowned, and for a second Farryn could see the way his brow lifted, as if a question was dangling on the tip of his tongue. But the moment passed, and his father nodded.

"Very well," he said. "I hope you have a good ball."

"Thank you."

And with this, Farryn turned towards his quarters, his steps a little slower and weightier than they would typically be.

----**----

"Pas saison, together, and, pas de bourrée and first position..."

"There you go! I have to say, you're taking to this a lot better than any newcomer would have any right to."

"It's not that hard. You say people are always stumbling their way through this?"

"Regrettably. They become the gossip of the court whenever they do, too."

"It's that important?"

"Yes."

Cyrus nodded, adjusting his tabard as he looked to Prisca. She herself looked through papers of choreographies, all of them supposed to be the hot dances to be danced at the ball later that evening. Cyrus barely understood the notation himself, but Prisca was well-versed, and so she had showed him how to do everything, complete with when to take hands with his partner.

"Just as long as you remember all those, you will be fine tonight," Prisca said. She patted his shoulder. "And for what it's worth, I think the guard captains will rather like you."

"Even if I am near Farryn, a man who, by all accounts, has no wife?" Cyrus asked.

Prisca gave a dismissive hand wave. "Let 'em talk," she said. "They don't know anything about your lives, nor would they really care if they did. It's all appearances in that court."

"You think so?" Cyrus asked.

"I know so," Prisca replied. She shook her head, lifting her hair back as she regarded Cyrus. "But you are well-mannered. They will definitely comment on the fact you are an avian, but if you keep your cool and don't do anything outlandish you will certainly come off well to the court."

"Good." Cyrus exhaled. "I scarcely care about their opinion, but if I know Farryn it likely weighs quite heavily on his mind. I would not want him to have more reasons to worry than he already does."

"I can appreciate that," Prisca replied. She smiled warmly. "But on that front, don't worry: they'll think what they think, and you are in a position where you can give that very little attention." She then exhaled. "Now, I suppose I will see your finest robes soon?"

"Oh yes." Cyrus nodded. "Follow me to the dorms for now. And please, do stay outside while I change: I can put them on myself, and even if they are elaborate I would rather prefer the privacy."

And here, Prisca smiled, opening the door to the studio they had used to practice. "Of course," she said. "After you."

----**----

As typical for him, Farryn checked the sleeve of his dress jacket before he walked through the doors into the ballroom. It was laid out in such exquisite detail, but Farryn knew how it was arranged so well he barely paid it any mind. It was not that he disliked the ball itself, it was more what was waiting for him as he rounded a corner. After all, it was mostly men in the stark-red uniform of the imperial guard, all gathered inside.

Farryn exhaled, closing his eyes as he paused by a pillar. He was glad they had done away with announcing the arrival of each captain: the fact he had never had any 'and his wife' attached to it was always a stark reminder of what happened, and to see captains entering without any mention being made to their companionship at least gave him reason to believe they would not talk much.

"Ah, Guard Captain Farryn! How great to see you again!"

Farryn blinked, looking immediately to his right, and to a tall snow leopard who stood proudly in his uniform. On his arm was a rather lovely snow leopardess wearing a silver gown puffed up around the waist. Farryn had to say they highlighted each other well, but knew that was the only thing he would enjoy about speaking to this captain.

"Captain Julius," he said. He stepped forward mirthlessly, his handshake not quite as strong as he would have liked. "It's good to see you again as well. How are things at your post?"

"No less boring than usual," he said. He shrugged. "The East has very few enemies on it, so it's always a dull affair." He then leaned back. "Are your guards still as libertine as usual in their choice of attire?"

Farryn's heart skipped a beat at this, and he found himself clenching his fist. It was the question Julius always asked every time they saw each other at the ball, and thought the question made his fur puff out he dared not actually voice how much it got to him.

"Not any more than any other guard post," Farryn replied.

"Hmph. As you say." The snow leopard nodded, slicking back white hair. "If the reports are true, you should really enforce more discipline over the Northern Border, Farryn. It is more relaxed there lately, but please, you must think of how it looks."

"I will consider it." Farryn's voice was monotone as he recited that for the hundredth time. Thousandth? It felt like he had said it so many more times than that, even...

"Excellent." Julius nodded, before gesturing to the leopardess. "Actually, I don't believe you've met my wife, have you? Poppea, this is Guard Captain Farryn!"

"I've heard so much about your lineage," Poppea replied, extending her hand to Farryn. "Charmed to have the High Magister's son at the ball today."

Only because I have to be, Farryn thought.

"Charmed," was what he said, before he took the hand and kissed it. He exhaled. "I only heard you married relatively recently?"

"Yes," said Poppea. She looked to Julius, before turning. "He wanted the ceremony to happen before the ball."

"I would say a week before the ball is not a bad time to marry," said Julius. He leaned towards Poppea. "After all, we did meet just after the last one, didn't we, dear?"

"Indeed we did," she replied. She exhaled, before leaning against him. "Such a nice, quiet ceremony, too."

"Just us and the priest," Julius replied. He threw his hand in the air, gesturing somewhere else in the hall. "Unlike Captain Athos, I saw no need for a ceremony as big as his was."

Farryn nodded as he looked to the hulking white lion that was Captain Athos: he had remembered Athos' wedding ceremony from years back, as he was still in training when it happened. He'd made everyone attend, had gotten the largest temple in all of the land for the occasion, even made sure it happened in front of the king and everything. It was all the captain of Karthin's personal guard could ask for, after all.

Farryn exhaled, regarding the way the large white lion doted on his bobcat wife in plain view of everyone, and the way she smiled back. Even all these years later, Farryn noticed the bobcat would still sneak flirtatious glances and even the odd playful slap of his hands in front of everyone. Of every married couple in the court, Athos was the only one Farryn could see was truly content in his marriage, and so Farryn could not help but feel the pit in his stomach that formed every time Julius or someone else spoke of the marriage.

Tonight, it felt extra heavy. "Perhaps," he said.

Julius then turned to Farryn. "And you?" he asked. "I know the Northern Border is quite isolated, but perhaps there is time for a wife there?"

Farryn shook his head. "No," he replied. "It's not a place for one."

Julius frowned, but Poppea started, looking to the side. "Oh, is that Captain Fingal there?"

The taller snow leopard blinked, looking past Farryn. Farryn thus followed his gaze, seeing a rather lanky tabby cat approach. The tabby cat's expression looked rather bored with everything, and even as he adjusted his shirt, though, he and Farryn locked eyes..

"It is indeed," Julius said as this new pair of cats approached. "Good day, Fingal!"

"And a good ball to you as well, Julius," Fingal replied. He bowed to Farryn with an impossibly bright smile that would have blinded him in any other context. "Ah, and Captain Farryn! A pleasure to see you."

"A pleasure."

And as Farryn bowed his head in greeting, he wished he could end that conversation right there.

----**----

"I see. I will tell you, the guard captains do like a good surprise every now and again. Leads to quite a bit of good gossip, I tell you!"

"Cor, not here. He's already nervous enough as is."

"Sorry, Pris, you know me. I just have to be realistic about these things."

"It's alright, Prisca. He is just being realistic, in a way, and I need that more than anything going into something like this."

"Alright, fine. But you tell me later if it's too much, you got that?"

"Of course, Prisca. I will let you know."

With this, Cyrus stepped forward, just behind Prisca and her brother. The larger bobcat held himself proudly, his chest almost bulging out of the formal wear as he stepped into the ball. Cyrus found from Prisca's attire that she had been right: the blue gown she had on almost bordered on the gaudy, and Cyrus knew he would barely have been able to move.

Of course, he looked to his finest robes, which perhaps would have looked low key to the magisters but looked absolutely radiant in the lights of the ball: the dark green coloring of his sleeves complimented the white feathers of his face beautifully, with the intricate black stitching creating a nature-like effect on the sleeves. His robes flowed out behind him as well, creating almost an airy train behind him as he moved. As soon as he entered, he could feel several eyes on him immediately, even as he scanned the room.

It was indeed a grand ballroom: from what Cyrus understood, servers would grace the halls with small little bites of food. Cyrus then turned to the side, where a large area remained unoccupied just where a seat was prepared, most likely for Karthin: no doubt, this was where the dances would happen, and a cursory glance towards a viol consort off to the side confirmed this speculation for Cyrus. They were already playing, although he noticed nobody was dancing yet. He assumed this was to allow people time to enjoy the socialization and other aspects of the ball first.

Hopefully not the fashion, he thought, as he looked to all the gaudy gowns the wives wore.

Of course, the room was full of all sorts of guard captains, all of them wearing the same red shirts that Cor wore, but all of their medals were different. They were mostly different cat species as well, although he did happen to notice one man in the guard captains' attire who was a deer of some kind. Cyrus chose not to dwell on it though, as he scanned the area for any signs of Farryn.

"Ah, I think I see Captain Farryn," Cor said immediately. "Flame-haired lion, right?"

Cyrus looked up, following Cor's gaze before it fell onto the face of a lion. And indeed, Cyrus saw the familiar arc of Farryn's face, from the way his fiery red mane framed his face to the severe, almost unreadable look he had. Cyrus noticed he was locked deep in conversation with two other captains and women he assumed were their wives, and so turned to Prisca.

"I suppose this is where I leave off?" he asked.

"If you wish," said Prisca. "But if you need anything else at all, Cor and I will be milling about."

Cyrus nodded, smiling at Prisca and taking her hand. "Thank you, Prisca," he said. "You have done more than I could have imagined."

Prisca winked at Cyrus. "Just make sure he leaves this ball in one piece, magister," she said. "Now go tend to him."

"Of course."

And with this, Cyrus turned, seeing Farryn once again. He exhaled, his hand still shaking a little bit. Of course he was nervous: how could he not be, considering he had not seen Farryn in person for as long as he had. But he just closed his eyes, let his nerves wash over him, and exhaled deeply as he shook his arms out.

"Of course he will be happy to see you," he whispered to himself. "Just approach him."

And with this, Cyrus took his first steps toward Farryn.

----**----

"And of course, when the Freldian bandits attacked, you _know_I was going to be there. And I came in with the heroic rescue and all, no need for reinforcements from the king! So I went in, sword drawn, fought ten men with only myself and my guards. They may have outnumbered us, but I'll tell you, those woods are always very easy to set traps in!"

"Of course. I hadn't heard the details, so to hear them now is so fascinating!"

"It is indeed, Captain Julius!"

Captain Fingal finally paused, before looking over to Farryn. "And what of you, Captain Farryn?" the cat asked. "Any assignments of great importance?"

Farryn sighed. "Well, I was sent by Karthin to escort a mage to the Badlands."

"Ah!" Captain Julius tilted his head to the side. "I thought the Magister's Circle wanted to avoid that infernal place."

"Well, I think you will find that they are opening themselves up to it."

Farryn blinked in shock, turning to his left. Sure enough, there was Magister Cyrus himself in his finest mage robes, the garments almost billowing behind him. It was all Farryn could do to keep his jaw from dropping: of all the places he would have hoped to encounter Cyrus, the ball was the absolute last place the lion expected Cyrus to turn up, particularly not with the smile that played on his beak.

Not that the lion was about to complain: he immediately turned, bowing towards the eagle. "Magister Cyrus!" Farryn lifted his head back up. "You didn't tell me you were coming to the ball."

"Consider it a surprise visit," Cyrus replied. He winked to Farryn, before looking to the captains surrounding the lion. "And these are your esteemed colleagues?"

Farryn nodded. "Cyrus, this is Captains Julius and Fingal," he said, gesturing the two cats before him. "Julius guards over the Eastern Border, while Fingal manages the guard at Karthin's summer home."

Fingal extended his paw towards Cyrus, looking for a shake. "And you are in the magister's circle?" he asked.

"Yes," said Cyrus, reaching forward and shaking the hand. "Slowly becoming one of their researchers of the North of Auron, as a matter of fact." He then turned to Farryn. "I got your pigeon before you arrived. I thought I should tell you in person that the magisters granted me permission to pursue more knowledge in the Badlands."

"Oh did they?" Farryn smiled at this. "That is excellent news, Magister."

"It is indeed," Cyrus replied. "King Karthin will be in touch with your post soon about that, but I expect I will be making my way there in a fortnight."

Farryn's ears perked up at the thought of this, and he smiled broadly. "I look forward to it."

"As do I," Cyrus replied. He then glanced to the ground. "Sorry about the silence on the messaging end," he said. "I didn't have time to leave a message, getting ready for the ball took quite a bit of time."

"You have never been to one of these?" asked Captain Julius. "I would think you would have come to at least the magister's balls."

Cyrus shook his head. "Oh no," he said. "The past couple of balls have all been held when I was too busy to attend, so I never bothered coming."

Julius nodded at this, his gaze flitting between Farryn and Cyrus. "Interesting..."

Fingal nodded, his gaze narrowing for the briefest of moments before he looked to Farryn. "Keeping the company of magisters, huh?" he asked. "Did you wind up fending off bandits together during your journeys?"

And here, Farryn allowed himself a smile. "As a matter of fact, we did," Farryn replied. He crossed his arms. "On our way to the Badlands, we had stopped to pick up a sample when one of my men saw signs of a bandit attack ahead that had occurred recently." He gestured to Cyrus. "Our magister here did not even hesitate for a second: he moved quickly, healed someone, and helped myself and two of my men rescue a merchant from bandits in the forest before the Post."

Julius and Fingal nodded at this. "I see..." Fingal crossed his arms, looking to Cyrus. "I hear the birds of the Southern Bluffs are really a very fair people, very down to earth. I'm glad to hear that reputation is true."

Cyrus smiled at this, bowing his head towards Captain Fingal. "Thank you, Captain," he said. "I assume you know something of them from how close the summer villa is to them."

"Plenty," said Fingal. He smiled at this. "I have always found them quite courteous, more so than some in this court."

Fingal stole a glance at Julius before looking back to Cyrus. Cyrus also caught Poppea's deep breath: her eyes twinkled briefly as her muzzle moved in a particular way, but it vanished quite quickly as she closed her eyes and exhaled quietly.

"And the guardsman's creed apparently suits me quite well, according to Captain Farryn," said Cyrus. "But as an adept at Earth magic, I still am better suited to the college, alas."

"And yet here you are at a captain's ball," Julius pointed out. He then turned to Farryn. "And for a captain who didn't know you were coming, at that."

Farryn exhaled, and Cyrus could tell how tense his arms were. "Are you implying something, Captain Julius?" he asked.

Julius shrugged. "What is there to imply?" he asked. "I simply haven't seen Captain Farryn get so animated about anything for as long as I have known him until now." He then twirled his paws there. "Perhaps at some point we may even see our dear magister dancing on the woman's side of the line when the dancing begins later!"

Poppea laughed at this, patting Julius on the shoulder. "Don't mind my husband," she said, her smile just a little too broad. "He thinks he's being awfully clever at the moment."

"Of course," said Farryn.

Poppea then nodded, turning to Julius. "Oh, husband, perhaps we can find Captain Setheus around here? I know he was just dying to talk to you about something."

"Ah, of course," Captain Julius replied. "If you will pardon me."

And with this, Julius stepped aside, Poppea exhaling. She shot a quick apologetic look to Cyrus, before turning away, following her husband quickly. Fingal and Farryn watched him go, looking as he found a new group of people to converse with. Cyrus kept his gaze on them for a while, and then saw Julius gesture over to where Farryn was.

Cyrus sighed, shaking his head before looking to Farryn. And there, he saw the way Farryn's expression had dropped, from how his gaze had turned to the floor to the way his ears folded back on his head.

"And there he goes," Fingal replied. He turned to Farryn, bowing his head gently. "I've only known his new wife for a few minutes, and I like her more than the gossip he used to bring to this ball."

"I guess," Farryn replied. He glanced after her, before shaking his head.

Fingal shrugged. "Personally, Farryn, I think he's full of it," he said. He then walked forward. "After all, you and Terryn will have to continue the family line at some point, will you? I'm sure you haven't found the one for you yet, is all."

Cyrus frowned, walking towards Fingal. "And how do you know?"

Fingal shrugged, gesturing to himself. "I haven't yet," he replied. "And I'm nearly two years older than you, after all." He stepped forward, patting Farryn's shoulder gently. "Sometimes, finding the right person takes time, and considering your family's reputation I'm sure you'll find that person eventually."

Farryn sighed, looking to the floor. His tail started fidgeting nervously, and Cyrus noticed almost instantly that his ears were so flat against the top of his head that they almost retreated into his mane. But most of all, Farryn's boot tapped impatiently against the rug surface underneath.

And then, Cyrus saw the way Farryn's eyes lost focus.

The eagle's eyes quickly darted around as he grabbed Farryn's arm, looking for anything he could use to get Farryn out of that situation. He then looked over to the window, and to the balcony outside: it looked rather isolated, and while the viol consort was just beginning to gather and play an overture, Cyrus saw an opportunity.

"I'm sure he will, as well," Cyrus replied. He then gently gripped Farryn's arm, before looking to the lion. "Right now, though, I don't think I have ever seen the interior of the ballroom." With this, he looked to Farryn. "Captain, would you show me around a little, please?"

Farryn turned, blinking as he looked at Cyrus. Subtly, the eagle indicated the window he had seen with a head tilt. The feline's eyes took a second to register where he was tilting his head towards, before he nodded.

"Oh, of course, Magister," said Farryn. He then turned to Fingal. "I will hopefully see you around."

"Of course," said Fingal.

With this, Cyrus and Farryn nodded, with Cyrus looking out as dancers began to fill into the dance floor at the center, with a crowd gathering around it. Cyrus thus pulled Farryn to the side, taking him around the floor. The consort struck up a cheerful little tune, but Cyrus paid it as little mind as possible as he navigated around, exchanging the occasional rapid pleasantry with others at the ball.

But finally, he got to the threshold of the balcony. As soon as they were outside, Farryn let out a deep exhale, one that seemed to pass through his entire body. Cyrus took this time to take note of the balcony, which was actually much larger than he thought. It looked out into Karthin's gardens, the foliage taking on a dark blue hue in the moonlight, and it was as he looked at it he realized they were alone.

Thus, he exhaled. "Are you alright, Captain?" Cyrus asked, walking to the railing and standing there with Farryn.

Farryn exhaled. "I will be eventually," he said.

Cyrus gently released Farryn's arm, taking the time to step back and regard the lion. "Is the guard captainship of Karthin always either blind to what is in front of them or maddeningly passive-aggressive?" Cyrus asked.

"Yes," Farryn replied. He let out a chuckle at this, one that was filled with bitterness as he turned to the eagle. "I don't think I've heard a better description of how people behave at these courts."

"I do my best." Cyrus exhaled, looking up at him. "You think about what Captain Julius just implied a lot, don't you?"

Farryn nodded, turning to Cyrus. "I do, and on other things related to that as well," he admitted. He exhaled, facing the eagle and crossing his arms. "I have no interest in fulfilling their expectations in carrying on a magic bloodline, and yet they bear the weight on me all the same."

Cyrus nodded. "And when that meets a function like this..." He stepped forward, placing his hands gingerly on Farryn's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

But Farryn smiled at Cyrus, bringing a paw up to the eagle's jawline and stroking it gently. "No, don't be," he said. "I'm glad you're here."

Cyrus bowed his head. "Still, I know they must talk," he said. "And no doubt, they must be asking themselves why he would spend much of his time around a male eagle from the Southern Bluffs, magister or not." He then rolled his eyes, glancing to the side. "Although, quite frankly, with the way his wife glared at him, I hardly think Julius has any room to judge."

Farryn chuckled at this, shaking his head. "I suppose not," he said. He pulled his hand back. "The wedding came awfully quickly as well, from what I understand."

"So everyone thinks that marriage is political and they refuse to pipe up, huh?" asked Cyrus.

"Yes." Farryn nodded, his brows loosening up a little as he looked at Cyrus. "Thus, why I am not married."

"Nor do you intend to be," Cyrus finished.

"No," said Farryn. He exhaled, remaining still as a statue against the railing.

Cyrus nodded, pulling himself close to Farryn so their shoulders touched. "It sounds like the first time you said that out loud," he commented.

"Yes," said Farryn. His tail swished behind him, and he looked to Cyrus.

Cyrus nodded. "And with fellow guard captains like that, who needs bandits?" he asked. He exhaled, looking to Farryn. "I can see why you rarely leave your post now. It is isolated away from all of this, and when it is far from everything you don't feel eyes."

"Yes," the lion replied. "And around them..."

With a small reach, he grabbed Cyrus' wingtip, taking it in his paw as he bowed his head. "Thank you, Cyrus," he said. "It feels good to say that out loud."

"Kindred spirits, right?" asked Cyrus.

Farryn nodded to this. He looked to the gardens. "Stay with me for a little, Cyrus?" he asked.

The eagle smiled at this. "Of course, Captain," he replied. "Whatever you need."

Farryn nodded at this, gazing out to the gardens. Cyrus moved next to him, laying his forearms on the railing. He then looked out, exhaling as he regarded Karthin's gardens beneath, from the rose bushes planted closer to the walls of the palace to the shrubbery that formed a small maze in the center.

Cyrus exhaled, and said nothing to Farryn, letting the silence settle between the two of them as he heard the viol consort launch into a new dance behind him.

Cyrus tilted his head back slightly. "I'm surprised you came to the ball at all," he said.

Farryn shrugged. "Force of habit, I suppose," he said. He turned to Cyrus again. "I had to go quite frequently when I was younger to the magister's balls. I was attending my father, you see."

Cyrus nodded at this, leaning back against the rail as Farryn turned to look back to the ball. "So you are actually rather used to this," he said.

Farryn nodded. "I do rather like the ball itself," he replied. He then exhaled, looking to the dance floor, seeing couples dance around in lines of two. "When I was younger, I kept quite up to date with the dances of the day, learned them all by memory."

"Do you do that anymore?" Cyrus asked.

Farryn shrugged. "Not religiously," he said. "But once you know a few core dances, you can fill in any you don't know. The choreographies tend to be the same."

"I see." Cyrus exhaled, looking back inside. "This is so extravagant, especially compared to what I see back home. I thought this would be the last place you would fit in."

"Well, technically I still do not," Farryn replied.

Cyrus chuckled at this. "True," he said. "But it is more than I." He exhaled, looking to the dance. "Still, my friend in the magister college taught me the steps."

Farryn blinked, tilting his head to the side as he regarded the eagle. "She did?" he asked.

"Yes." Cyrus shrugged. "She wanted to teach me just in case you would wish to dance."

Farryn regarded this with a tilted head. "You know, despite what Julius says, it is not uncommon for men to dance in the court if there are not enough women to dance with." He then peeled away from the edge of the balcony. "And since you know the steps, it would be a shame if they went to waste."

Cyrus blinked, before looking to the dance floor, or what he could see of it from the balcony's opening. "You're right," he said. He then turned to Farryn. "Are you sure you're alright with dancing with me after what Captain Julius tried to imply?"

At that, Farryn smiled: Cyrus' eyes went wide as he offered his paw to Cyrus. "I guess we'll both kill him with a little passive-aggression of our own."

Cyrus laughed at this, shaking his head. "You know what?" he asked. "Normally I would eschew such pettiness in the magister's circle, but this is not the magister's circle." He then took Farryn's paw. "Well, my captain, why don't you show me what it is like to dance the rigadoun with a captain?"

"It would be my pleasure," Farryn replied, gently leading Cyrus back inside and to the dance floor.

Cyrus and Farryn were quick to take positions on either end of the line of dancers that had formed. Cyrus found himself subconsciously glancing around the ballroom, and at once he caught Captain Julius standing off to the side, attended by two other captains that the eagle could scarcely recall having been introduced to. But it was Julius' lady-in-waiting who noticed, and Cyrus watched as she gently elbowed Julius.

Cyrus simply turned his attention to Farryn, the lion giving him a quick bow. Prisca's teaching came to mind then, and Cyrus bowed in turn, leaning towards Farryn and stepping back.

The music struck up, then, kicked off by the soulful drumming of lutes and theorbos. The viols kicked in at the same time, playing out a jaunty, rustic tune to the beat of a tambourine. At the same time, Cyrus and Farryn moved, with Cyrus a little more behind as he consciously willed his right foot to cross behind his left, bring his left foot out, jump a little, and remember to flick his leg out.

As the magister turned, he found that Prisca had indeed been right about his robes: they did not get in the way of his feet, and as he danced on he found himself finally able to look in Farryn's direction. Cyrus thus stayed in place, remembering then that the floor pattern had him stand in place as his partner danced a circle around him. In time, with the new phrase, Cyrus himself bounded forward, his talons perhaps clacking just a hair too loudly as he bounded around Farryn.

He was too concentrated trying to get the steps right to care, especially once he stood in front of Farryn.

To his great relief, he found he was at least in the same place as everyone else in the line: and then came the rest of the dance... And as he leapt towards Farryn, Cyrus realized he forgot what the next couple of steps would be. He swallowed, and as he took hands with Farryn, he looked up, eyes wide in fear.

But Farryn only bowed his head, and as the two of them danced around Cyrus could feel the way the lion's hands slowly guide him around. It was then Cyrus remembered Prisca's advice, and so he looked down to the ground briefly, mirroring Farryn's movements.

Somehow, the dance came back to him quickly, and before he knew it Farryn and Cyrus had parted to spin in a circle, Cyrus' robes billowing out slightly before he rejoined Farryn's hands.

Cyrus's footwork was secure from there, and if anything set him off course he would look to Farryn, see how he did the dance. And as Cyrus watched him leap about, he found himself focusing on everything about the lion before him, from the way his mane rippled in the air and the way his muscles flexed underneath his shirt to the way his feet launched from the floor as if he'd done this dance a hundred times before.

It was beautiful, and the beauty of it only kept Cyrus dancing more. And soon, he forgot about Captain Julius' gaze boring holes into the back of his head: he continued to dance, letting his feet bounce a little more.

It was such that Cyrus was caught off guard when he found himself back at his original place to the sound of polite applause from the audience and no more dance steps to recite. He blinked, before looking to Farryn. The lion, too, seemed to regard Cyrus with a raised eyebrow as people moved off the dance floor.

As Farryn approached, he glanced to where the viol consort was seated. "You looked like you were having fun there."

Cyrus nodded, exhaling as the next dance was announced. He felt a lump form in his throat, although strangely there was no nervous energy behind it. He only looked up at Farryn, the edges of his beak curling up in a smile.

"I... think I was," he said. He rubbed the back of his head. "I would not be opposed to another."

"The sarabonde," Farryn replied. He gently led Cyrus by the hand to the starting position of the next dance. "It's rather a slower dance, more about the footwork."

"I had a good teacher, for only having three days to prepare," Cyrus replied. He then smiled at Farryn. "Shall we dance, Captain?"

"Gladly."

They turned around and bowed, just in time for the viols to begin with a gentle, lilting melody as they took their first steps.

----**----

Cyrus and Farryn ended up staying on the dance floor through at least three more dances after the end of the sarabonde. Each dance was more complex than the last, and as they went about Cyrus found himself thinking less on the choreographies and more on the lion he danced opposite to: after all, if he was lost, he would find his answer in Farryn's own movements.

It had been a long while before they were finally pulled away from the dance floor, with the viols retuning before the next dance suite was said to begin. It was such that they perched in a corner, Cyrus holding a small little plate of little bites of food, with Farryn holding a similar plate in his own hands. Cyrus remained seated on a couch, with Farryn standing right beside him and looking down.

"Mmph!" Cyrus lifted a hand up, swallowing what had been a rather beautiful little ball of shredded meat and mushrooms. "Now that was also good."

"The small bites of the balls are also quite good," said Farryn. He looked to Cyrus. "Karthin sees to it they are always good little morsels."

"And it shows." Cyrus smiled, looking at the little dam of cheese and fruit that was stuffed into a rather small cup of pastry. "Mm, this is quite good."

Farryn could only chuckle at this, smiling at the eagle as he took in the sight of Cyrus' enjoyment. "I will let the chef know next time I see him."

Cyrus smiled back at this, exhaling as he looked up at the lion. He drank the sight of Farryn's smile in, noticing how nice it was to see him in this state.

"I don't think I've seen you smile like this before," said Cyrus. He tilted his head to the side, glancing to the side and to the guardsmen that occasionally stole a glance to them.

Farryn shrugged. "Around others, I have to watch what I say," he said. He then looked down to Cyrus, sitting next to him. "But with you..." He exhaled, looking down. "I don't think I've been able to be this honest with anyone at a ball before. It feels good..." He then glanced to the floor.

Cyrus smiled, his hand snaking towards Farryn's and gripping it gently. "Sometimes that's all it takes," he said. He then shrugged. "Next time this ball comes, you're bringing me as a guest, no questions asked."

"Of course," Farryn replied. He then exhaled, looking to the avian. "Will you be going soon, then?"

"I don't know." Cyrus exhaled, looking to the rest of the ball. "I have very little in common with these other magisters, and from my one conversation with Julius and Fingal I fear I may not find much common ground either."

"You would be surprised how curious they are about the goings-on that magisters do," Farryn replied. He shrugged. "Many of the guards have a curiosity about that, and I'm sure they would welcome conversation with a magister."

"Perhaps, but right now that is not my focus," said Cyrus. He then looked to Farryn. "I plan to stay as long as you need to before you go back to your family's villa."

At this, Farryn's smile fell somewhat. He looked to the ground, exhaling before looking back to Cyrus. "Of course," he said.

Cyrus paused, considering Farryn's expression and the way it fell. He knew how Farryn had spoken of his family's estate, and thinking back on it all, he saw the way Farryn's mood seemed to instantly tank. He felt a small wave of guilt come over him then, and suddenly he paused, his hand hovering just around the pastry he had been about to devour.

His hand instead went to Farryn's, laying on it and gently squeezing it. "You know, it is not uncommon for magisters to sneak company into the college," he replied.

Farryn's ears perked up at this. "Is it?" he asked.

Cyrus nodded. "And... well, if you don't think it is too much trouble..." He exhaled, setting his plate down and looking at Farryn. "You can come with me."

Farryn blinked, leaning his head forward. "Cyrus?" he asked.

The eagle glanced back to the ball around them. "I imagine being home just brings everything here back in sharp relief, right?" he asked.

Farryn took a deep breath in, before turning to Cyrus. "Yes," he said. He nodded slowly. "But how did you guess?"

"Call it intuition." Cyrus smiled, taking Farryn's hands in his. "Come with me tonight," he said. His wingtips gently graced over Farryn's pawpads gently, his smile taking on a more kindly quality. "I can't promise I can take your mind off of everything, but--"

"Yes," Farryn said. He leaned closer. "I would like that."

Cyrus smiled at Farryn, the food on the small little plate forgotten as they gazed into each others' eyes and the world melted away.

----**----

Cyrus and Farryn left the ball shortly afterward. It was not a very long walk to the mage's college--in fact, as Farryn observed, it was a shorter walk there than to his family's villa. He also noticed how few people wandered the halls at night as Cyrus gently guided him around the halls.

Of course, Cyrus made sure to navigate in such a way that nobody saw Farryn. The captain could not blame him: he knew how that would look for both of them. The fact that Cyrus was risking it anyhow told Farryn a lot, and as Cyrus rounded a corner in the dormitories he moved quickly.

It was with this thought that he turned to Cyrus as he turned off to where the private dormitories were. "You know, Cyrus, I always wanted to get into the magic college," he said. He exhaled, shaking his head. "I did not think I would get in like this."

Cyrus chuckled good-naturedly, turning down a hall as he maintained his gentle grip on Farryn's wrist. "I doubt anyone in your position would think to get in like this." He exhaled, before stopping at a door and pulling a key out of his robes. "Anyway, here we are."

He then unlocked the door quickly, gesturing Farryn to get inside. "Here, come in."

Farryn entered the room. As Farryn expected of Cyrus, the place was immaculately kept. Not a single scroll or ink pot was out of place, there was absolutely no dust anywhere, and the bedsheets were immaculately kept. He took a second to admire the space as the moonlight streamed in. It was perhaps a little smaller than he expected, though: there was only room for the desk, the bed, and a small area for his clothes, but it was at least homey enough to be called a place to live.

Cyrus closed the door after him, locking it up after him. "There," he said. "Welcome to my quarters."

Farryn nodded, turning back to Cyrus. "Rather small," he commented.

"Yes, as are all the others," said Cyrus. He exhaled, before shaking his head and bringing a hand to the top button of his outermost robes. "I would ask if you were comfortable with me removing my robes, but we have both seen each other naked so I trust it's alright?"

"Of course." Farryn exhaled, before reaching for his own button. "Honestly, I may do the same: I think this shirt may need to go to the family tailor."

"Is it too small?" Cyrus asked as he gently peeled his outer robe off.

"A little bit," Farryn replied. He set his coat off onto a nearby chair, letting his broad muscles show in the moonlight. "I'll admit some of my movements felt a little constricted in that."

"I could barely notice." Cyrus exhaled as he stepped out of his breeches, taking his undershirt and hanging it in his closet area. Farryn noticed how his silvery feathers gleamed in the moonlight, and found himself following Cyrus as he removed the last of his garnments. "Especially when we are so close together." He then paused, glancing to the side. "You took to the dancing quite well, actually."

"I don't care much for the intrigues of Karthin's court," said Farryn. He stood up, before exhaling and removing his pants. "The ball dances, however, were the one part I always liked most."

Cyrus nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I could tell," he noted. "I have never seen you so loose in all the time I've known you."

"It is what dance brings out in me," Farryn replied. He then looked directly at Cyrus. "Particularly with a good partner."

Cyrus only nodded at this. After that, a silence hung in the air, one that lingered on. Cyrus watched as Farryn approached, their eyes meeting as the tall lion stood in front of the bed. Cyrus noted the way he looked in the moonlight, how it shone over his fur and tinted everything with a faint blueish light.

Cyrus breathed in, bringing a hand to his beak. But it was Farryn who moved first, bringing a hand to Cyrus' cheek.

"You're beautiful," said Farryn.

Cyrus blushed, taking Farryn's hand and pressing it against his cheek. He placed his other hand on Farryn's muscles, letting it linger over the fur. It felt softer than he remembered, and all Cyrus could do was exhale.

"Do you still think about that night at your post whenever you receive a letter?" Cyrus asked.

"Yes," said Farryn. He exhaled. "If not for my family's villa being the way it is, I would have suggested you spend a night with me."

Cyrus smiled at this. "Even in the mage college we cannot be too loud."

"No." And here, Farryn knelt in front of Cyrus, his muzzle inching ever so slightly closer to Cyrus' beak. "But it is away from eyes that would pry."

Cyrus nodded, bringing a hand to Farryn's cheek. "Of course," he said. He exhaled. "I want you again."

Farryn only smiled. With this, he leaned forward, gently kissing Cyrus on the beak.

Cyrus sighed into the kiss, pulling Farryn closer: he was surprised by how tender Farryn's kiss was. It was softer and warmer than he remembered it being, with hands that ghosted over his torso and a tongue that was slow in its movements. Perhaps it was more loving than last time.

As Cyrus was laid on his back on the bed, he chose not to question it, especially as Farryn began to kiss his way down the eagle's torso.

Cyrus groaned as Farryn grabbed his length, stroking it languidly as his kisses made his way down to the eagle's groin. This prompted Cyrus to shove his wingtips straight into that mane, the eagle suppressing a moan as he shifted the position of one of his legs. He groaned, closing his eyes and running his wingtips through that impressive mane. All it took was a simple contact of tongue to member for Cyrus to arch his back, his beak parting slightly.

As before, Farryn swallowed Cyrus' cock in his mouth, and this prompted Cyrus to let out a quiet breath. He opened his eyes, looking down at Farryn as he ran his hands back up his torso. It sent pleasurable shivers up and down his spine, with Cyrus leaning back as he gently rocked into Farryn's maw. Cyrus was taken by how smooth that tongue lapped at his cock, and it was a sensation that the eagle could not get enough of.

"Mm..." Cyrus' quiet moan rang out just a little more in the room, as did the slight creak of Cyrus' adjusting of position.

But something was different as Cyrus and Farryn locked eyes: there was a hunger in his eyes Cyrus had never seen, and as the eagle slowly shifted back onto the bed, he could tell there was something more in those eyes. Cyrus could see it in the way Farryn's hand rubbed up the inside of his thigh, as if spreading it for--

Cyrus threw his head back, his beak parting at the way his finger pressed against his rear entrance. His whole body screamed in ecstasy, and instinctively he threw his legs a little wider. He closed his eyes, his breaths shaky as he felt the finger press more of the way in. When Cyrus was able to bring his head back up to look at Farryn, he saw the lion still bobbing up and down on his length faithfully, but his bobs had begun to slow down.

And that was when Cyrus blushed, realizing just how strange it was. He had no opportunity to question it, though, for then Farryn popped off his length. He licked his way down it and past his balls, before Cyrus felt his moist tongue brush up against that entrance as well.

Cyrus' beak quivered as he took in the sight, but he paused, feeling himself blink at this. He knew what this meant: he had never taken Farryn as one for any form of anal sex. He recalled all of Farryn's descriptions of any time he'd done anything with his men at the Post, and every time it had never escalated past oral. Cyrus was not certain how to take it, and he imagined the voice of his old village elder as he tapped his finger against his arm.

But as soon as Farryn pulled away and looked at Farryn, he saw eyes filled with nothing but warmth, even in the cool blue light of the night.

"I..." Farryn looked up, and for the first time that Cyrus could recall, the normally unflappable Farryn looked almost embarrassed. "I haven't made love like this."

Cyrus exhaled. "Neither have I..." he then exhaled. "You wish to...?"

Farryn nodded. "Only if you are alright with it," he said breathlessly. "After all, it requires two to dance, right?"

And then, the silence hung in the air. Cyrus felt the blood rush through his veins faster than normal, and as his breath hitched, he felt a buzz in his mind. All of this was so new to him, and yet something about it pulled him closer. He was not sure if it was the shine in Farryn's eyes, or the way the feline's jaw seemed more relaxed than he had ever seen it, or if it was a trick of the light, but the way Farryn looked at him was full of nothing but concern.

His heart melted, and whatever voice he'd imagined in his head faded away. He then nodded, a tingle dancing across his limbs as he did.

"Yes..." Cyrus exhaled, before adjusting his position and spreading his legs. "Please, Farryn..."

That was all the big cat needed. He pulled himself up, his torso rubbing against Cyrus' as he leaned forward. "Any oils?"

Cyrus nodded, reaching for an oil in the night table. "Typically for my feathers," he said. "But it is safe to apply on flesh as well."

Farryn nodded, taking the oil from Cyrus and carefully applying it to his member. After this, he climbed atop Cyrus, his face hovering close to Cyrus' and watching his expression. "Alright," he said. "I hear you need to push out to relax."

Cyrus nodded, feeling the tip of Farryn's member press against is entrance. "Alright..." He brought his hands up to Farryn's cheeks, cupping them in his hands. "Be gentle."

Farryn's smile seemed extra soft up close. "Of course."

And with this, he brought his hips forward, Farryn's member meeting some resistance before it slid into Cyrus. The eagle grit his beak: even with Farryn's preparation the initial penetration stung quite a bit, and it was a sensation he was very unused to.

Upon seeing his face, though, Farryn paused, holding himself in place. "Relax..." he whispered.

Cyrus nodded. He thought back to Farryn's original advice, before pushing against that length slowly. He felt the sting lessen just that little bit, but even that brought pleasure to the eagle.

After a minute of waiting, the sting completely subsided. With this, Cyrus nodded to Farryn.

"Alright," he said. "Go ahead."

Farryn smiled down at Cyrus, before taking the initiative and slowly thrusting the rest of the way in. This was much more pleasurable, as the sting did not increase as he sunk in the rest of the way. The eagle thus sighed in pleasure, looking right into Farryn's eyes again as he stopped.

Cyrus nodded, smiling up at Farryn. "That feels good," he said.

Farryn only leaned closer. "For me as well," he said. He then pulled back slowly. "Should I keep going?"

Cyrus nodded. "Yes."

Farryn then pulled Cyrus into a kiss, before he pulled out, only to thrust back in gently. His thrusts were slow, so slow that Cyrus could feel the friction of that length pulling in and out of him. The slow speed of Farryn's thrusts let him also feel every inch of the feline as he came in and out.

And then, Farryn slowly thrusted all the way in, Cyrus feeling the feline's hips come flush with his rear. Cyrus finally let out a gentle moan at this, looking up at Cyrus as he felt how full he was. It was a warm fullness, and one that seemed resolute on staying within him.

Cyrus then nodded, stroking Farryn's cheek. "You feel so good inside of me..." he said.

"And you feel wonderful." Farryn nodded. "Hold me close..."

Cyrus did so, his own length sandwiched between their bellies as Farryn pulled back and began to thrust a little more quickly.

Cyrus was still a rather quiet lover, as the short breaths that he gave out attested to. However, as he felt Farryn's tongue and teeth gently work over his shoulder, Cyrus' eyes were shut. He wanted to internalize everything about this moment: the way Farryn's fur felt as it brushed against his feathers, the warmth emanating from him, the moisture that gathered on his shoulders, and the fullness down below...

Cyrus turned his beak, kissing Farryn passionately as he wrapped his legs around Farryn's waist. He almost forced the feline deeper inside him this way, and Cyrus could tell by the slight increase of the speed of the lion's thrusts that Farryn was into this as well.

And so, they moved: Cyrus completely lost track of time as they did what they did, but a part of him did not wish to keep track of that time. The sensations he felt were too wonderful for him to worry about the time: all that mattered was the warmth inside him, the fullness he felt, the way Farryn looked down at him with sparkling eyes, the blue light against his fur...

Cyrus thus noticed as Farryn's thrusts increased in spead. "Cyrus, I think..." He began to huff a little louder. "I think I'm going to..."

Cyrus responded by tightening his legs around Farryn. "Inside me, Farryn," he whispered breathlessly. "Please..."

Farryn nodded, bringing a hand down and stroking Cyrus' length in time with his thrusts. The avian threw his head back feeling his own climax slowly creep up on him with each stroke. It gave Farryn the opportunity to duck his head in there, and Cyrus found himself pulling Farryn's head close as he let out a surprisingly loud moan for him.

It was not a moment too soon, for Cyrus then came hard across both of their torsos, his legs tensing as he felt this. He clamped down hard on Farryn's length, and this was enough to bring the lion over: with a guttural grunt, Farryn squeezed his eyes shut, hilting inside of Cyrus and staying still. Cyrus felt a wet warmth fill him up, perhaps the most pleasant feeling of the night as Farryn stilled above him.

The two of them remained in this position for a little while longer, the two of them breathing heavily. When they finally turned to look at each other, they came in for a hard kiss, one far more passionate than any they had given each other up until then. It was all tongue, all hands roaming around heads and torsos, all closed eyes and the sensations everywhere in his body...

Cyrus parted from the kiss, smiling broadly. "Farryn..."

The lion slowly pulled out. The avian sighed longingly at this, the loss of fullness deep within him almost making him feel empty as Farryn fell behind him. "Cyrus... Thank you."

The two of them kissed as Farryn pulled Cyrus up close. Cyrus was aware of the warmth on his back, and as he adjusted his position he wrapped his own wings around Farryn's arms, before losing himself to sleep.

----**----

Cyrus stirred when he felt the sun's warmth on his face. He opened his eyes groggily, shifting his wing gently.

He was acutely aware of the weight in his bed next, one that forced him into a warm torso. But rather than be shocked at this, Cyrus could only smile: he turned to look at the lion he had fallen asleep by as his shoulders slowly rose and fell with his gentle breaths. Fiery red mane glistening in the sun, his strong face at peace...

Cyrus found himself wishing he could awaken next to that every day.

He thus reached behind him, gently stroking Farryn's whiskers. He thought briefly to the night they shared at the Border Post before Cyrus returned to the college: this was very much like that, but something felt... different. In the Border Post, Cyrus had felt like they'd had a little fun, nothing more. But this... This felt considerably more personal: his heart seemed bigger than it had before, the lion more handsome, and the happiness he felt waking next to Farryn was perhaps more substantial and did not fade away as quick, if it even was fading at all.

He pondered this as Farryn yawned, his tongue stretching out and curling towards his mouth. Cyrus thought it was cute, but he had no time to acknowledge much else as Farryn then stirred, opening his eyes and turning to Cyrus.

"Good morning, Cyrus," the lion replied.

"Good morning, Farryn." Cyrus turned, his whole body facing Farryn. "Did you sleep well?"

"Better than I usually do after that ball," the lion admitted. He brought a hand up to stroke Cyrus' cheek. "Thank you."

Cyrus smiled. "Anything for you, Farryn," he said. He grabbed a whisker in his hand, twirling it around gently before releasing it and exhaling.

The two of them laid in silence next to each other, and it was an extremely comfortable silence. All there was in the world for Cyrus was those beautiful eyes Farryn had, the way they rested inside the frame of his face, the way his nose glistened with moisture, the way he smelled of lavender...

He exhaled. "Farryn, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," said Farryn. "Whatever you wish."

With this, Cyrus inhaled. "What am I to you?"

Farryn paused, looking to the ceiling. "To be honest, Cyrus?" he asked. "If you had asked me before last night, I would have said a friend. But..." He exhaled, leaning towards Cyrus. "Last night, you arrived, and you took care of me in a way nobody else has before."

"Naturally," said Cyrus. "I wanted to make you feel less alone there."

Farryn nodded. "And you succeeded," he said. "But... Because of that, I don't know if 'friend' really answers that question anymore."

And here, Cyrus' heart fluttered slightly. He glanced to Farryn's chest, before leaning back.

Farryn paused, the two of them heavily considering the question. And as they sat there, looking into each other's eyes, they found neither was met with any judgment from the other. It was just them two, basking in the morning sun in each other's arms. And as the silence stretched on, Cyrus found himself wishing that Farryn did not have to return to the Border Post, and that he did not have to resume his research.

"Well..." Cyrus said, breathlessly. He looked up, his breath catching in his throat. "Is now a bad time to mention that we in the Southern Bluffs do not usually give ourselves up like... this?"

Farryn tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Cyrus rubbed the back of his neck. "We never really do penetrative sex on a more casual basis," he said. "It's considered a sign of the highest trust in the Southern Bluffs that you will allow someone to do that to you." He rubbed his head. "And last I heard, nobody there did this as mere friends..."

Farryn considered it carefully, and Cyrus could think to the way he writhed under Farryn. "I guess the question is, would you willingly do that again?"

"Yes." Cyrus surprised himself with how little hesitation he displayed in answering. It caught him off guard, and he looked to the space between them. "Gladly. Until the end of time, if need be..."

The lion nodded. His hand snaked behind Cyrus' head, cupping it gently as he looked deep into Cyrus' eyes. "Perhaps Captain Julius was right, in a way," he said.

Cyrus shook his head with a chuckle. "Perhaps he was," Cyrus replied. "I suppose he would not be so quick to mock if he only knew how wonderful it was."

Farryn nodded. "It does take two to dance, Cyrus," he said. "And in some ways, I couldn't have asked for a better partner."

And with this, the two of them leaned forward, Farryn's muzzle pressing against Cyrus' beak as they both brought each other closer. This was a slower kiss, letting the moment linger with each brush of tongues: as Cyrus closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his tongue pressing gently against Farryn, he knew this was it. There was no turning back, even if he wanted to.

And as he pulled back from the kiss, Cyrus found that he wanted it to go on forever.

Cyrus opened his eyes, seeing Farryn's eyes light up in a way he'd never seen them before. "So this is what love feels like, isn't it?" he asked.

"I guess so," said Farryn. He exhaled. "Perhaps next year at the ball, we can thank Julius personally for bringing us together."

Cyrus chuckled at this. "Perhaps," he said. He exhaled. "For now, though, will you be required at your family's villa?"

Farryn sighed. "Regrettably," he said. "My transport back to the post will be waiting there."

Cyrus nodded. "Do you want me to come with you?" he asked. "I have very little to do today, I can accompany you there if you wish."

The lion blinked, but his brows did not furrow. "I guess father will want an explanation," he said. He then leaned towards Cyrus. "I'd feel better if you were there."

"Then I will come with you and see you off," Cyrus replied. He leaned forward and kissed Farryn. "Whatever you need."

"Thank you," Farryn replied. He then adjusted his position. "But before we set out..."

And it was then Cyrus felt something blunt press up against his ass again. He blushed suddenly, looking up at Farryn as he himself grew instantly hard. "A-already, Farryn?" he asked.

Farryn exhaled, and in the light of the morning sun Cyrus swore he could see a faint blush on Farryn's cheeks. "I think you bring something out in me," he admitted.

Cyrus chuckled, grabbing the oil bottle and spreading some on his hand, before slathering it on Farryn's member. "I think you do for me, too," he said. He then exhaled. "And anyway, who knows when we'll get to do this again?"

Farryn smiled at this. "I like the way you think, Cyrus." He shifted his position, his face hovering close to Cyrus. "Here..."

And with this, Farryn slowly pushed himself inside Cyrus, the eagle moaning at how Farryn's member slid in. His thrusts were very slow this time, very sensual, and it allowed Cyrus to feel how full he felt with Farryn inside him.

At that moment, Cyrus would not have it any other way. And so, as Farryn hilted inside him, he exhaled, concentrating on everything about the moment: the light of the sun in Farryn's eyes, the warmth that emanated from the lion, the way his pawpads felt brushing against his cheek feathers, the slow, pleasant friction of his thrusts...

He documented it all, wrapping his legs around the lion's waist and pulling him into a passionate kiss. There was indeed nowhere else he would rather have been at that moment.