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Valskr was a frigid dung heap of a village, nestled in an otherwise picturesque mountain valley. Little abodes dotted the meadows, and stone fences helped corral sheep and keep neighbours friendly. In the centre of the large valley lay the heart of the settlement, along the shore of a glacial lake, surrounded by a rough wooden palisade. Muddy tracks lead the way to the gate, and within.

The burley guards nodded in recognition as Tarvos approached. Seasoned warriors in their own right, they held their spears with the casual air of one well versed in their use. "Welcome home, Tarvos," said the first, his enormous black moustache almost hiding his lips as he spoke. Tattoos covered his shaven head, and were well represented on his arms and chest as well. "We thought you might not have made it before winter had set in. The lord's campaign went well?"

The bull nodded. "Many were hewn before me, and much blood was shed before the end of it, but none was mine."

The second guard laughed. He was younger than the first, but still looked as if he had seen many fights. Long brown hair fell behind his lithe frame. "If it were any other, I would say you scoff, but we know you too well. I, too, welcome you. Will you stay a night behind the walls with us, or will you return to your abode this evening? You still have time before we lose the sun, if you hurry."

"I will go home. It has been many months, and nothing more would please me than to see my kith. And introductions should be made, of course, and you two shall be first among them. This is John, my friend. We have met but a few days ago, at an inn that was welcoming."

The two guards smiled, assessing me. "John? That is an unusual name. From where do you hail? A land with few warriors, no doubt, for you are certainly none."

They were being friendly, so I was not sure if I was being insulted or not. "No, I am no warrior. Have you heard of Massilia? Lying on the north shore of the Inner Sea? Our lands are fertile, and many are called to defend it, but I am not one. I am a poet."

Their smiles dropped, aghast. "That is your profession? You are paid for your words? Your people must be great indeed that they can afford to keep one who lives only by his tongue, and not his deeds. Here in the north, however, I think you will find it quite hard. But you are lucky, John, I can see this, if only for that you met Tarvos. Perhaps your words shall serve you well. Or perhaps just your tongue."

Tarvos sighed. "The rude one," he said, patting the guard with the great moustache.

"Duairc," he said with a wicked smile.

"And I am Caol," said the thin one.

"Well met, both of you," I said quickly, not looking to offend by me mere presence any further. The guards both nodded.

"We shall see you soon enough, perhaps tomorrow or the day after, to buy supplies," said Tarvos as he made his way past.

Duairc smiled, but said nothing as we left his presence.

"They must not have enough food in Massilia, he looks hungry," said Caol, just as we were leaving earshot.

"I will wager you I know what he's eating tonight," responded Duairc with a laugh. My ears reddened.

Tarvos placed his arm about my shoulder as we walked, and I was comforted. "Do not let them bother you. Their people are of the Keltoi, and neither shy from battle nor speaking their mind. They are frequently blunt of tongue, but they are quick friends. You are my guest, and my friend, and you are welcome here. Remember that, and let nothing cause your mind to be troubled."

I leaned against him as we walked, smiling, and he left his arm about me.

After walking nearly the rest of the day through the valley, the area we approached became thick with trees again. Most were pines, and green in the winter, but the ones that were not were bare. Low-lying bushes still clung to yellow leaves, and bright red berries held fast to their twigs. Snow lurked in the shadows, and was a reminder of what was to come, and I felt a tightening knot of excitement in my bowels for my commitment. When the snow came, I would not be able to leave. I would be trapped.

But I was infatuated with him. Perhaps from the moment I saw him.

A quick wind came up, and clouds parted, causing the thin light to part the gloom of the woods in beams, warming my mood. The trees whispered to each other as they bent and swayed, and Tarvos held me closer. "You would protect me from the wind?" I asked, smiling.

Tarvos stopped and bent down to look at me, a serious expression upon his face. "I would protect you from everything."

I pulled his face towards me and kissed him, overcome, and he returned the gesture. For moments, we were locked to each other, and I neither felt the wind, nor heard the trees, nor was cold.

Eventually we disengaged, though my lips wanted his touch. "The time for this will be soon, but first you must be introduced to my kith. We will eat, and then clean, and then, perhaps," he paused for but a moment, "we can continue."

I nodded. I ached for him.

Eventually we crossed a small stream, and a path along its edge revealed our destination. There, against a rocky outcropping, lay a great cave, wherein lay the stream's origin. Tarvos paused, and grasped my hand, staring at the entrance.

"Is everything alright? Is this where you live?"

"Within. It has been a long time since I have been home, and I seem only to ever be here in winter."

"Perhaps you will stay longer this year?"

"Perhaps..."

A shadow moved from within the cave. "Is that Tarvos home? Come back from his war?"

I had never seen a minotaur until recently, much less two. This one was older, or at least carried himself that way. His hide was white, in contrast to Tarvos' dark brown, and his muscles were taut beneath his simple brown robe.

"Uncle!" Tarvos rushed to embrace him, leaving me behind for a moment. Then they separated and, in what must have been some ritualized greeting brought their heads together so that their horns touched with a soft click.

"I see you have brought a guest?" said the elder, inquisitively.

"Yes. Yes! This is John. We met--"

"You have never had a guest." The elder walked up to me slowly, placing a great hand on my shoulder. "I am Oretas, and you are welcome here, John. Tarvos is my nephew, as you have gathered."

I smiled. "Yes." I felt completely at ease.

Oretas nodded. "Tarvos has never brought anyone to meet us from outside Valskr. This leads me to hold certain assumptions about you in relation to him. I think, if you are not too hungry, we could put off eating until later. I would like a feast tonight, in celebration of my nephew's return, and of course your visit, John. We shall get you cleaned up, also. I will have the oil prepared. Come."

Inside the cave were lit lamps, so as not to give off smoke, and the walls were carved as we went deeper and deeper. The air was warmer, and not so dry. Eventually the passage became more ornate, with polished tiles creating magnificent mosaics - scenes of battles fought, trials faced, and fornication between minotaurs.

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Tarvos, who was being very quiet. "Oil?" I whispered.

The bull shook his head. "Scented oils. They are rubbed onto you, and scraped off. For cleaning."

This seemed bizarre to me. "Have you not heard of soap?"

"Yes we have heard of soap!" Oretas near to shouted. "This serves a," he paused for a moment in front of a door cut into the rock before continuing, "similar purpose. Come with me, John."

Oretas lead me into a dimly lit room, which smelled sweetly of spring flowers and summer fruits. "It is as he said. We are sometimes creatures of ritual, John, and tonight you are a part of this. Remove your clothes, please. From here forward you will have little use for them, unless you need to leave our settlement, though we require neither that you wear them or that you do not. Minos' sons are for the most part immodest," he said, removing his own robe to reveal his naked form. "You will grow used to this in time, I think, but not tonight." He smiled at my obvious erection, as I finished removing my clothing, leaving them in a crumpled heap. "Now, the oil."

Oretas led Tarvos off into an adjoining room and left me alone for a minute, then two, before returning, naked, bearing a large, lidded jar, and sack. "Tarvos will now attend you." In one hand, Oretas gathered my clothing, folding his robe over them. "These I will keep away for you, unless needed. I will see you at dinner, perhaps." And with that, he turned and left.

In the centre of the room was a great stone bench, and Tarvos beckoned me to it, straddling it while I sat similarly opposite him. The stone was warm.

"With us, many things are rituals, John. I thank you for sharing this with me." I nodded. He produced the jar, holding it with one hand and setting the lid aside with the other before dipping his hand inside. "The oil is for you." He removed his hand, covered in oil, and brought it to my chest, wiping it across me, playing with my muscles sensually. He dipped his hand in the jar again, spreading the oil across my shoulders. "Turn, please." I did as I was bidden, and set my back to him. I felt his oily touch across my neck, then back. He stood up, and then both his hands massaged my back, and I felt as if I would melt. All tension was leaving me. "You are feeling more relaxed?" I moaned slightly. I could not see him, but I felt his satisfaction. "I am just starting. But we must clean you, too." I heard the scrape of metal on stone, and then I felt a cold metal surface on my back.

"What is that?" I asked, more curious than concerned.

"This is a strigil. It... scrapes. You will see." I felt it before I saw it, a hard metal edge dragged across my oily back, scraping away the oil, and the uncleanliness. It felt unusual, but somewhat exhilarating. "Turn again, please." I did as I was bidden, again. This time I saw the tool, looking somewhat like a curved or bent knife, but without a cutting edge. He dragged it across my chest, using the edge to draw away the oil, leaving my skin with a light sheen. Again and again he repeated this, slowly, and with precision, drawing closer to me as he did so, so that I felt his breath upon me as he concentrated. His muzzle brushed my forehead. "And we must clean you inside, as well."

"With the strigil?" I asked, incredulous.

"No. Lie back." Again, I did as I was asked, and he began to slick my anus with his oiled finger, drawing out my erection again, immediately. He smiled, but continued, paying it no mind, gently inserting his finger inside me slowly, turning it, lubricating. "This will be somewhat uncomfortable, but it will help. For later." I felt him rustle with the sack for a moment before something was slowly inserted into me.

"What are you doing?" My voice wavered slightly.

"This is a light oil, and some herbs. This I will pour into you, and it will cause you some discomfort, but it will help you... expel anything unnecessary. The herbs will assist in helping you to relax, and with pain when I, when..."

He stopped, and loomed over me, straddling me, stroking himself, laying his erection onto my chest so that I could feel the heat radiating off of it. A glistening strand connected my chest to his member, and I moved my hand to it, gently running my hand along its length. I stared at it, mesmerized by the size and the scent.

"Are you afraid of it?" he asked quietly.

"No," I lied. "Perhaps a little, now that I consider it. However, what I am most afraid of is not being able to take you. I want you inside me, and I have wanted it since the day I met you. We opened our hearts that day to each other. I think that we are fated to be together. If that is so, then I will not fear."

Tarvos nodded, and kissed my head before withdrawing. I lay back down, and he began to funnel the oil into me, perhaps through the end of a skin. I began to feel uncomfortable, but the herbs numbed that sensation slightly. More and more he poured, waiting a moment before continuing, always looking at me, watching. Eventually, I cried out softly in discomfort, and he stopped. "That should be enough. We must wait a little while, and then you can expel the oil." He deftly removed the apparatus inside me, replacing it with his finger, which he moved back and forth within me, turning it this way and that, slowly bringing me to greater and greater arousal. He caressed my distended belly. We said nothing.

After a time, he brought his one hand behind my shoulders, and began to manoeuvre me carefully to the end of the bench. "I will help you above the jar." I nodded, and, finger still inside me, I straddled the end of the bench and awkwardly positioned myself atop the jar. "Now, quickly, imagine your deepest fears and dark thoughts. Now imagine them leaving you with this ritual."

Before I could utter a word, he removed his finger roughly, and in a spasm I released everything inside me, a horrible torrent of oil and waste. I began to sweat as it left me, making a cacophonous din as it poured into the jar; after a few moments of endurance, however, I began to feel better, and the flow began to lessen. I sat there for a minute in sharp relief, a feeling of euphoria passing over me. The herbs, perhaps?

Tarvos lifted me off the jar in an embrace, and quickly lidded the slurry. "There. You are purified, John. You feel better, yes?" I nodded in bliss. He smiled and embraced me. "Good. Now come with me."

In a daze he led me out of the room and back into the tiled passage, taking me deeper and deeper into the mountain. The stone was temperate on my bare feet, and upon my naked body the air felt cool, refreshing. Eventually he led me into another room, much farther down the passage.

This one was furnished lightly: a pile of mats to lie on, a bench, a table. A flickering lamp gave illumination. The sound of running water echoed through the room. "Yours?" He nodded, slowly leading me towards the mats, laying down with me atop them. These smelled as if they had been cleaned recently.

He rolled me onto my back, and took a position above me. "Your hands can reach the wall?" I nodded. "It may help to steady yourself against me."

He could barely meet my eye. He was shaking. I was shaking.

I pulled his face towards me and kissed him, deeply, exploring as much of his muzzle as I could with my tongue. He slipped his towards mine, and into my mouth, and he began to rub my member as he did so, but I pushed against him with my body, my other hand pushing against his side.

Taking the hint, he rolled onto his back, taking me with him in an embrace. Still locked in his kiss, I felt the tap of his erection between my cheeks. Impossibly thick, I began to fumble at it until one great hand helped centre it on my oiled sphincter. I pressed against it as he held its girth, and he gasped as the head entered me, eyes wide.

I began to pant as I fed its incredible thickness into me, his passage eased by the oil. Slowly, excruciatingly, inch after inch of him entered me. I writhed, and he bucked his hips against me, thrusting himself deeper. "G-gentle, p-please," I begged him sincerely. He howled, savagely, and bucked again, and I wept. This is what it would be, to love a minotaur.

I looked at him, lost in passion, sweating, bucking, his urges taking control of him. I held him tightly and kissed him again, on his neck, behind his jaw, whispering into his ear. "Do you love me, Tarvos?" I pressed my face to his, the tears in my eyes wicking into his hide.

He paused, briefly. Panting, with effort, he whispered hoarsely to me: "With all my heart. The heart does not lie."

With renewed stamina, I pressed back against him, then eased out a bit, then back, and I began to tease a nipple with my mouth, licking it into hardness roughly, gently biting it, then licking it again before moving to the other.

Suddenly, he gasped and bucked, and I felt him churn beneath me, his member quivering within my bowels. I lost myself upon him in that instant, as I felt an enormous heat within me, filling me, and I howled with his release.

For moments, we lay there, I on top of him, my seed dripping from between us, and his eventually dripping from the site of my penetration. "How far," I asked eventually as he softened, still panting.

"Most of it," he whispered, never letting me go. "We should... we should clean up and get ready." He did not move.

I did not move.

"Well," I said after a long time, "it would be a shame to take it out after all our efforts."

We did not join the feast that evening.