Writely Post.

[iambetadraconis]

"Wait outside, by the lake," the missive from Strahan had said. "And we will meet you there. It is time to begin the next phase of your training, to master your wolf before you are given new forms to try. I am certain that you have already contemplated what else you can be, but the wolf is first." Strahan had to be pretty astute in reading people; of course he'd thought of what else he could become. But not recently. No. Something other than animals (with the exception of the ever-present wolf) was on his mind. Someone, to be more honest. Someone he could not stop thinking about. Someone who's voice and smile he couldn't get out of his mind, either awake, or even asleep. Granted, the dreams were pleasant-very pleasant, and sleep was something he looked forward to each night, when he would dream about the one who made his blood run hot and set his heart to racing.

Dammit he'd been out here a few minutes and his mind was already distracted...

Where are they? he thought, his face red, and not entirely from the cold.

Where Asar-Suti would come from was not entirely important to Strahan. Asar-Suti could come from wherever and however he wished. The only thing that mattered was the location. The magpie soared above the lake, noticing tiny, glittering pieces of ice that floated about the surface. Although he knew they would not last, he still wanted them. Wanted to add them to his collection of precious gems that sparkled just so whenever he lit the candles in his room with godfire. But it was early morning, and they'd be gone long before the sun had fully cleared the horizon. Still October, and thus too soon for the ice to become a permanent fixture on the land and lake.

Of course, he could still admire them, or give Rabastan a nice surprise. The wizard was expecting humans and human-like beings; talking birds would give the poor wizard a nice little start to begin his morning with...

Asar-Suti, though, came sauntering from the kitchen entrance in his usual human shape, cup of Gil-made tea in hand. People could claim whatever they wanted, but Asar-Suti was adamantly convinced that tea tasted and worked better when Gil had made it, and this was the sort of cold, glittery autumn morning that called for tea as tea-ish as coud be.

"Morning, Rabastan," he said, coming closer. "Bloody cold, eh? Will be better once we all have fur, but let me finish my tea first. Strahan isn't here yet, either."

So the Seker has not thought to look to see if his follower is human or animal, Strahan laughed within his bird form. It will give me the opportunity to play that joke Donal had told me about, where bonded Cheysuli children would creep up in animal form on those who were not and surprise them. He angled his wing a little, and made straight for the god's head-

-and landed on it.

"Good day my lord," the bird said, waiting for the reaction of the others.

It certainly gave Rabastan a surprise. He'd just opened his mouth to return the greeting when the black-and-white bird landed on Asar-Suti's head. He'd almost thought it a pet, until it spoke aloud, in a slightly harsher version of Strahan's normal voice. "Merlin's beard!" he yelped, then swore. "Strahan that isn't funny!"

"Morning, Strahan," Asar-Suti said, cheerfully, and held up his hand for the bird - of whichever colour and shape as he couldn't see it yet, sitting on his head as it was - and banishing the dropped and spilled cup of tea with a short, sketched rune.

One could only hope Asar-Suti finished most of that tea-would be a shame to lose most of it to the surprise. He hopped onto the god's hand, so that the long, iridescent green tail hung over the back. With his bright eyes he looked from god to man, laughter self-evident in his expression. He stayed that way for a moment longer, then hopped off and reverted back to his normal self, Rabastan still scowling.

"A good morning to you both," he said, his benign smile utterly maddening to Rabastan.

"You'd think you'd have the sense to come out in human form," Rabastan said, a little upset at the practical joke. He would be. Some of that tea had landed on him, which caused the swearing. "Especially when you said I wasn't to try for a different animal until the wolf 'was mastered'." He glowered. "Or, so you said."

At least his displeasure would give Rabastan an excuse to be red-faced this morning. For a moment anyways.

"Ah, Strahan's being spontaneous, Rabastan; don't mind him. Just because you can only shift into wolf-shape yet that doesn't mean he shouldn't," Asar-Suti shrugged. "I, on the other hand, might say something about issuing a commandment like 'Thou shalt not startle thy god while he's having his morning tea', but that would mean lowering my standards to those of bloody old Nuggan, and I won't do that. I never believed in commandments and declaring things abominations and the rest of the arsenal of divine micromanagement. I told my followers what I wanted them to do, and they'd find a way to go about it. And Strahan was ever allowed to play with me and tease me."

Strahan's smile was utterly fatuous. No, he was not expected to do anything for Rabastan save what he himself had offered to do. He was helping Rabastan manage the wolf. How he went about it was another story altogether, and the wizard could protest all he wanted and to no avail. Besides. Once Rabastan got his five extra animals he could do as he wished with them, and that included surprising people with them. That, of course, wasn't this morning's objective.

"I see you are as ready as you are willing to be, and that the cold has gotten to you... Though I must say, you seem a little over-sensitive to the chill this morning..."

Dammit Strahan was being astute. He must've noticed the fact that Rabastan's face was, as was becoming rather usual lately, quite red. All it took was a thought and he'd be spending a good fifteen minutes or so staring at the floor-or whatever else was handy-while his hair curtained his face and blocked it from view. Some people, having noticed it, thought Rabastan was feeling a bit febrile, but that was quickly waved off once they saw him eat. And eat. No one nursing a fever ever ate that much at a sitting. But however much they inquired he remained tight-lipped about it.

No one can possibly understand...

"You startled him, Strahan," Asar-Suti said, wishing he had more tea. He could conjure some, but that wouldn't be the same. "Mind you, startling people can be fun. I once was hunted in mountain cat shape, in Aman where Námo and Nerdanel and all their countless relatives and adherents are from, by a Maia and some elves that had no idea what I was. I ran towards a waterfall and jumped over it, turning into falcon-shape in mid-air. You've never seen so many hounds so startled! None of them went over, but they milled and bayed and behaved incredibly stupid for the clever hounds of Aman. It is a lovely place for a god to take a holiday. You all right, Rabastan?"

Once again he was staring at a spot between his feet as though he was trying to grow a flower through sheer force of will. The Seker had no idea what sort of effect the word "elf" now had on him, and, before either god or man could notice, he'd averted his gaze so no one could see how red he was. He looked like a schoolboy entertaining a first crush and felt the same way too. Merlin it made his life hard. It also affected other parts of him, and that led to a lot of discomfort and time away from the main area of the bar where he wouldn't be noticed. Or worse, laughed at.

Strahan too was staring, but not at the ground. No, he was staring at the wizard who, only moments before, was quite eloquent about his disapproval of Strahan's methods of arrival. Now Rabastan was mute, and unwilling to look at either of his companions. It was most peculiar behaviour from the wizard, and no doubt those who'd asked if Rabastan had a fever were right to ask such questions from him. When the breeze shifted, one of Rabastan's ears was exposed. Revealling it to be a brilliant crimson. This needed further inquisition, and who cared what Rabastan thought about it. With one long-fingered hand he brushed the hair out of the way to see that Rabastan's now-angry-over-the-intrusion-face was just as red.

"You have either developed a sensitivity to the weather or there is something on your mind to turn your skin that colour," he remarked as his hand was abruptly slapped away.

"That," Asar-Suti said, "looks like a fully fledged blush. Or he might be so angry at us that he's nearing apoplexy from rage; people go red then as well, and silent, because all they could say then would be inarticulate invective. But I think not. Rabastan; have we offended you? If so, I am sorry. We really mean to help, but it is early; if Gil hadn't had to go on shift early today for breakfasts, I would have refused to see anyone at this hour. My faun is very experienced at getting out of bed in the mornings without waking me, but today, I asked him to. Here I am, ready to help. Even without tea. So?" He looked at Rabastan expectantly.

-BedCompanySomeonenexttoyounearyouComfortAffectionArmsHandsBeingheldLoveLoversofferrelaxationtothetenseshyfrightenedpeople-

His mind was a litany of thoughts cramming one into the other, tangling themselves up with the corrosponding and very-related emotions. Reflexively he pulled his arms up about his body the way he'd done in front of Maglor, and just thinking of the elf's name made him tighten his self-embrace further. This was not rage, though rage could be a possible effect of having his emotional state further prodded into.

If there was a god above he'd make this stop, because it was driving him mad with the never-ending thoughts.

"-fine-"

-Notfineatall- He sucked in air through his nose. -Ineedhim-

"You are a terrible liar Rabastan Lestrange," Strahan remarked, once again drawing back Rabastan's hair to reveal what had to be a wolfish snarl on the wizard's part. Which would've been terrifying to see, even without the blazing yellow eyes adding depth to the expression, were there not also an undertone of ... something ... driving the behaviour. He looked further, despite having his hand slapped away several times and fruitlessly to boot. Strahan when the mood was upon him was not a man to be daunted by petty efforts to drive him away. He wanted to know what was going on with his still-in-development minion. If anything was wrong all his work would be put into jeopardy and he couldn't risk that.

"My lord I doubt it is anger that fuels the strange vermilion colour of his face. No. It is something else entirely."

"Rabastan - what's the matter with you?" Asar-Suti said, mildly. "I didn't embarass you by mentioning Gil - everybody knows about me and him, and it would be such a bother to try and not mention him when part of my every day is simply enmeshed with him and his schedule for kitchen shifts. This is Milliways - you will have to get used to strange creatures of any gender forming couples. Purple god wizard and cooking faun wizard isn't really the strangest one - I could offer you a fertility god and a muggle police specialist as an even stranger combination, for example?"

-CouplesPeopletogetherLoveSomeonewhocares-

He had to sit down it was all so overwhelming. Right now what Gil was didn't matter at all. In fact it barely registered in his brain, which was selectively listening for words that drove his emotions into a frenzy. And that, despite himself, made him cry.

Everyone has someone but I am alone so alone a sea of nothing amongst all the happy people...

"'s not Gil," his strangled voice said. "'s got nothin' t' do wi' him..."

Whatever this was it was serious, or so Strahan thought. But human emotions were not his specialty in life or afterlife; this required someone else to handle it. And the nearest someone was Asar-Suti. Which meant that Rabastan would have to look to the god for explanations.

Providing he does not touch that trap-link I set all will be well.

He held back, waiting for someone to explain the situation to him while Rabastan hugged himself so tightly it was as if the wizard was wearing an invisible straight jacket, binding arms to body.

"Who has it got to do with, then?" Asar-Suti asked, gently. "It wasn't just Strahan's teasing that brought you in such a state. Something in what he and I said was wrong. What was it - tell us, so we won't do it again."

Rabastan shook his head "no". He'd forgotten the magpie joke by now, being too caught up in the thought of Maglor and where the elf was (was he still in this Aman place?) and how much he liked the company the other provided despite having met him all of twice. "Don't care about the joke anymor'," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Someo- Something else..."

And he refused to say more. As if he could. He was crying now.

Okay. This was just bizarre. What in the name of everything especially the Seker was wrong with that man? He was acting like a child being denied something he wanted very badly while his parents told him why he couldn't have it.

...being denied something...

Was that it? Rabastan stopped himself before he could say what he wanted to say, then went on to say something else instead. It had to be something Rabastan wanted. Yes. He was certain of it.

But Rabastan had to admit it first...

Asar-Suti conjured a large cloth handkerchief and handed it to Rabastan; it was a sensible checkered one, with no frills or lace or monograms, apart from the part where the pattern was purple. "Having a good cry helps," he said, trying to sound sensible and Gil-like instead of like a bewildered volcano, which he was. "You were going to say 'someone', weren't you?" he went on. "Somebody has either mortally offended you, or you've fallen in love with them. Won't you tell us who it is so we can help you? And what exactly they did to you?"

He felt a bit like somebody talking to a troubled child in order to help it.

Very troubled. At the sound of the words "fallen in love" he sniffed audibly, wiping his eyes with the proffered kerchief. Which, to anyone listening, spoke volumes, and Strahan knew it. It wasn't an offence Rabastan was upset over there was someone else he was experiencing emotions for. This really was not something the sorcerer understood much about, if love was the matter. If love was involved.

He sniffed and felt hot tears fall down his cheeks when he heard the words "fallen in love" being spoken. It was hard to say, even harder to tell what, exactly, he was feeling. But Asar-Suti had supplied the words, and now it was plain for him to see. Love. It was love he was feeling. A good feeling, to be sure, but with that love came the unignorable fear of rejection. That what he felt would never be returned, but spurned. After fourteen years in a cage the last thing Rabastan wanted was further rejections.

"Who is it?" Asar-Suti asked, gently, thinking much along the same lines of thought as Strahan did. "You can tell us, unless it's one of us."

"N-not you," he whispered to the ground. What he'd give to have the one his heart cried out for to come over and hold him tight to their chest! To be told things were fine now that they were here. "Met 'm b'fore th' full moon. 's nice."

That, Strahan suspected, was the reason why the woman who served as the historian of his world made sure what she thought were her creations didn't use contractions as a general rule, unless they were Erinnish. Contractions just made it hard to understand people sometimes, and when they were speaking around the obstruction in their throats, well. Then understanding was nigh unto impossible. Which made a normally patient man feel utterly impatient. "Come out with it Rabastan. The sooner you tell us the sooner we can set about the reason we came out here for."

Asar-Suti was more used to slurred speech. That was 'met him' when extruded, not 'met her' - and that might be part of the problem! "Who is he, then?" he asked. "I don't know all people in here, but I know about most of them from what other people say, or the chatter of the rats, or from watching them have drama at each other."

Well. At least someone knew what the "'m" stood for. Strahan was still trying to figure it out, until he remembered that one night when Varien came stumbling in, well into his cups and babbling about how hard it was to find a male whore in general, let alone a good one. It made Strahan smile as he stepped backwards ever so slowly. So. It was a "him" that had Rabastan in such a state. He'd pegged Rabastan as the one for women, and maybe Rabastan was. He'd seen the way the wizard looked at those women with figures to rival Lillith's. Seen, and found amusing. But to see that attention directed at a man? This was new. Something worth looking into.

Rabastan just drew himself in, as if he were his own black hole. "Said ... wasn't ... man..," he choked out. "Looked ... like ... man ... though..." Now that he'd had time to adjust to his current emotional storm surge he was realising a new feeling: embarrassment. Merlin he'd never felt like this towards males before, though admittedly some were pretty handsome in their own ways. But he'd never thought to pursue another male. Not in this life anyways. Oh god it was all so confusing...

"Not human, or not male?" Asar-Suti asked, aiming for a bit more clarity. He just hoped Strahan wouldn't snicker and destroy the tenuous trust Rabastan was extending to them.

"Human," he supplied. What Strahan was thinking or doing was of no concern to him. Unless both man and god went away so Rabastan could wrap himself in the wolf and pretend everything was, if not "normal", then at least to avoid emotions that did little to help his well-being for a little while. He'd spent the first month hating the idea of becoming a wolf. Now he found he wanted to be a wolf.

Wolves are never troubled by decidedly-human emotions.

This person is male, but not human. Can't be an animal or animal-like being or he would not "look like man", Strahan thought to himself. Of course, in Milliways, having a less-than-human lover was nothing new, and hardly worth noting, unless a newcomer came from a place where such things were immoral taboos. Asar-Suti's lover wasn't entirely human, and if they accepted that, what wouldn't Milliways accept? No. The real question was, could Rabastan accept this change in outlook within himself? Or would he wallow in self-hate and flog himself night and day, repenting for whatever it was he perceived as "sin"?

He could stand to spend time with Varien, provided Varien toned down his enthusiasms a little beforehand...

"Angel, demon, deity, devil, anthropomorphic personification, strange species from the lightsabre world, elf, hobbit, Cheysuli or ateva?" Asar-Suti asked, even though Cheysuli were mostly human, and no atevi had ever been sighted in the bar - Asar-Suti had just read about them.

Strahan all but laughed at the Seker. If there were Cheysuli about they'd protest the "mostly human" definition, saying that they were all-man (or woman, as the case may be) when human, and were quite willing to prove it too. Though, perhaps, not in the manner Finn might go about proving it. He did not laugh though; he knew that Cheysuli would take serious umbrage if one of their warriors was dealing with the amourous intentions of someone of the same sex, if what Varien spoke about when he'd made his proposition to Niall on the then-prince's wedding night was anything to go by. No. No Cheysuli would permit such acts. And Asar-Suti would probably tell Rabastan that, although his feelings were normal, he was setting his hopes too high if a Cheysuli warrior was the object of the wizard's affections. It would have to be someone else.

As a matter of fact it was someone else. No Cheysuli warrior this; Rabastan had yet to even meet one, let alone find himself in love with one. It seemed as though it were a physical impossibility, but Rabastan was blushing even more than before. He swallowed several times to remove the lump in his throat, wishing very hard for Ihlini and god to just. go. away. and leave him here to suffer alone at the edge of the lake. It'd be better for eveyone if they let him be.

"...elf..," he croaked out, and the tears began afresh.

Oh, Aman! Asar-Suti had mentioned the home of the elves, and then Rabastan had come all undone. Poor thing. An elf... Well, there were quite a number of elves in the bar, and elves from slightly different traditions, too. Not just Middle-Earth had elves, and that was without counting the house-elves from Gil's and Rabastan's world.

Well, who was there? Glorfindel and Elrond and - no, that was the wrong way to go about it. "An elf of Aman and the world beyond it?" he asked. "Well, I do know many of those that are here, even though Nerdanel has entirely too many sons. Will you tell me his name? This is not a guessing game after all."

"Aman" wasn't the magic word it was "elf". One elf, to be specific, and he was making it difficult for Rabastan to speak. One could suggest having him change to wolf to ease his emotional burden, allow him to think clearer and thus loosen his tongue a little. Lesser minds are more focussed. Less troubled. Rabastan's was anything but. In fact...

"My lord, I know you wish to find out what is on our friend's mind, but his feelings towards this elf are serving to make the task difficult," Strahan calmly suggested despite his mirth. "He should change into his wolf shape first, as animals are not known for their complicated emotions."

"My dear Strahan," Asar-Suti said, "shifting into animal-shape is not the solution to all problems. This is a human one and ought to be dealt with in human shape. Rabastan, just say his name. Then we can get on with things, and afterwards I'll see how I can help you."

Strahan wasn't about to be dissuaded. "It is not always a solution, but as you can see, our friend is too distressed to say very much of anything. I propose that he change first, to calm his fevered mind so that he can speak?"

"You can't help me!" Rabastan said in a strangled voice. "You'd never be able to help me! Help me find him! Forget it!"

Rabastan Lestrange... Tell him.., a voice said. Not the wolf's but another. Prodding him. Giving him that mental shove as it probed the brain for the secret word. Tell him...

Strahan watched as Rabastan fought his mental bindings, but he was not going to stop until either Rabastan changed forms or he told them the name of-

"Maglor! Now leave me the fuck alone, you fucking todgers!"

"Maglor" was it? Strahan thought. Interesting. This merits investigation, if only to see what qualities this "Maglor" possesses, qualities that can be replicated for future use. Now that the name was given he released the mental vice and allowed Rabastan to scream, wail, cry or whatever the wizard chose as his emotional release.

Asar-Suti laughed - a sudden, incongruous little bark. "Maglor!" he declared. "Of all the elves that ever walked into this bar, you had to pick Maglor! Maglor the ancient one, Maglor who has walked the world of humans down the seven ages of man, Maglor who has seen it all, cynical Maglor who will try anything once and shrug off the occasional century if it wasn't as good as he'd hoped. Maglor, son of my dear friend Nerdanel. But love strikes where it wants, of course. I take it he doesn't yet know how you feel, or you'd act a lot different."

He had stopped laughing and put his hand on Rabastan's shoulder. "Sorry for being so amused - I wasn't poking fun at you, more at Maglor. Well, you are an interesting and varied person with lots of unique and painful experiences, deep shadows and brilliant highlights; enough to interest him and keep him interested for a mere human lifetime, if you'd be content with that. There is no reason to declare your heart entirely broken yet. I hope he'll have you."

Strahan was frowning, taking this moment to watch the scene unfold with a tactician's calculating eye. The thought of Rabastan holding feelings for someone else made him unhappy. Jealous? No. Never jealousy. That was an emotion for petty mortals. More like, he was distinctly aware that love could cost Strahan too much valuable control over his servant. That it might weaken the trap-link placed in Rabastan's mind. Even the most powerful, lethal trap-links could be weakened by other forces, and love was purported to be one of them. He had to act and quickly in order to keep Rabastan firmly under his bootheel.

Rabastan listened, (metaphorically) blissfull in his lack of awareness towards Strahan's schemes. To hear Asar-Suti laughing at the revelation made him angry, and instead of tears, he tilted his head back to howl, only stopping when the god started speaking again. He really did not need mirth-directed at him or the object of his unrequited affections. The howl stopped, he proceeded to sob. Never had he wanted someone so badly in his life and to think Maglor would see him only as a passing phase brought about even more tears and choked-back howls of pain.

"He doesn't know. Seven ages and he can't tell when someone's in love with him!" Rabastan moaned, then added, "or maybe he can and he's only toying with me, playing with me, watching me flounder and fail the way others have done!"

"Maglor is cynical," Asar-Suti said, "yes. But never cruel - he wouldn't do that. The worst that will happen to you when you tell him is that he will let you down gently. And love isn't as obvious for the beholder as for the one who is feeling it. There is no point in unhappiness and despair yet, at all. I find it amusing, yes, but at least he's not going to hurt you, as some would."

He looked at Strahan, about whose intentions and reactions the god felt more doubt than he had in a long time. What was in this for Strahan? Hopefully, he hadn't fallen for Rabastan himself.

Love? Strahan felt love for Rabastan? His face was a mask of indifference when Asar-Suti turned to look at him. Did the Seker think Strahan held love for Rabastan? No. He felt no affection towards his prey. Rabastan was the first in what he hoped would be a series of dutiful servants willing to do their master's work, and to be discarded once their wells of usefulness ran dry. Love? Such a silly emotion!

"That's what I'm afraid of," Rabastan said, tears falling freely now. "Maglor won't have me. He's seen everything, even a fool's love. Why should this time be different? He'll turn me down and I'll be lonely forever..." He pulled himself up into an even tighter ball and sobbed, wailed, howled with pain.

"That is what everybody who is in love is afraid of," Asar-Suti said. "The mere idea of being loved back, or een just accepted, sounds so bloody preposterous, doesn't it? Odd how it happens time and again, isn't it? Look at all the couples around! It seemed just as mad to them at some point. There is a way of going about things, of showing and deepening interest, that makes it possible to reciprocate, to choose, to return feelings. At least the Dementors didn't take this from you forever - you feel, you are alive, there's hope for you!"

He could hardly wait to tell Gil and ask the faun what to do now - go to Aman and tell Maglor so he'd know what was up and could prepare himself. So it would be less of a sudden surprise, which might make him react in a way he might regret?

But before that, there would have to be another wolf training session.

All his anger was replaced with a near child-like hope for possibility. Maybe he could win over the elf, have him see the wizard the way Rabastan saw Maglor: as someone worthy of affection. His mind, febrile again with racy thoughts, played out the scene he wanted to see happen, where love was professed and he would be embraced in multiple ways, with midnight dreams becoming reality.

He smiled to his feet. It was what he wanted. What he needed. What he couldn't understand.

"I always thought myself a man for women," he admitted. "I'd always envisioned this event as happening between me and a very lovely lady. We'd be in love and in the future settle down to a normal life with children to love and to watch grow up. A man was not the sort of thing I expected to throw my heart at the foot of..."

A strange thing to Rabastan but Strahan understood perfectly. He knew of Ihlini women twho were possessed of divergent desires. Men too. He knew that Ihlini, holding no sexual taboos, were freer with their attractions than the other races of the world were. There even was a word in the Ihlini tongue for just such people.

"'Mojhalli'," Strahan said to Rabastan, who seemed to have forgotten he was there. "We call it 'mojhalli', those whose attractions are not confined to either their sex or the opposite, but both. That is what you are: 'mojhalli'."

"Gil calls it 'swings both ways'," Asar-Suti said, suspecting that might be more useful to Rabastan than learning Ihlini vocabulary. "It happens. Before me, Gil had a girlfriend, a red-headed elf woman from another world where elves were a bit different from Ner and Kano and their lot. But he wants me he way he met me, male, even though I could shift to female shape; well, that's Gil. He gets to prefer one thing over another, just like I, in the end, found I preferred Gil over Lochiel, or David Talbot, or whoever else I had thought I had wanted, at one stage or another."

Neither term made a lot of sense to Rabastan. One was utterly alien, the other something from the Muggle world. He'd need a proper term to understand why women and now men (though Maglor was not, according to the elf, "human", he was still male) made his blood hot with desire. "Those words don't mean anything to me, because I've never heard of them before. It's not spoken of much in the Wizarding World. Yes we've got people attracted to their own sex but it's not spoken much of. And that means people who like both are almost never mentioned at all."

Oddly he was calmer now. The weight of his unadmitted attraction to the elf was lifted, allowing him to speak far more freely than before.

"It means what I have told you, and what Asar-Suti has said. You are attracted to both sexes." He paused for a moment. "Tell me. Was there ever a time when you saw a man and thought him handsome or attractive? If so then it is clear that your desires run towards both genders." And for that altruistic effect, he added, "do not be upset if you have ever felt that way Rabastan Lestrange. It is normal. Your desires are normal, and maybe you will find that this allows you the opportunity to give Maglor something he is not likely to have had before in his life." A grin. "Your ring, Rabastan Lestrange. And no, I do not mean offering yourself to him as a beast. It houses your human form, not just your wolf. There is ... potential there, if you know of spells that affect appearances?"

"Unless Maglor thinks like Gil on that point," Asar-Suti said. "Far as I know, he won't reject you just because you're male; he never gave me the impression of being especially biased on that point."

"Unless." That meant that there was the possibility that Maglor was-what did Strahan call it?-"Mojhalli too." And if he was, Rabastan could offer the elf everything he'd ever wanted in a lover without having to seek someone else out. Something the wolf took umbrage over more than the human did. Rabastan had always sensed within himself the ability to give his love freely to multiple partners without feeling any trace of jealousy or spite whenever another mate partner decided they too wanted to play Rabastan's game. It was what made his days of whoring in the Wizarding World's brothels easy. He was affectionate enough, but also open and sharing. The wolf, however, wanted only one mate, no extras. The ring was the only way to keep both sides happy without them coming to blows.

Strahan grinned. He could see that his words were having an effect on Rabastan. Where once there was despair there was now hope. And for now Strahan was content to let it flourish. Later he would have to prune it to keep it in check so that Rabastan didn't grow beyond the boundaries of the trap-link. And if he did, there were ways to keep the wizard under control. Lillith and her daughter Rhiannon had taught him that much. He coughed once, then twice. "I believe we came out here for purposes other than confessions?"

Asar-Suti gave his follower a brief, nasty look. Sometimes, he really felt like smiting Strahan. Now, for example.

But he wasn't nasty old Nuggan, but a sensbile god, wasn't he? He didn't do smiting. "How do you feel, Rabastan?" he asked the wizard directly without answering Strahan. "We could go back inside, or we could train the shape-shift again. You know best what you can achieve. Only you have ever been you and know how that works."

But there are times when smitings are called for, the way spankings were for naughty children. Humans might be living in an age where paddling pre-adolescent behinds was being frowned upon at an increasing rate, but since when were gods human? Okay. Redundant question when it comes to the Seker, but the point is the same. "Whichever pleases you," Strahan said to Rabastan, the maddeningly-benign smile back in place.

The smile that upset Rabastan, because to him, he was interpreting Strahan's words in multiple ways and blushing considerably because of it. Damn that Strahan! Why did he have to act like this? And now of all times? Rabastan could do nothing about it, other than to ignore the Ihlini sorcerer, so he did. "After this some time in animal shape would be welcomed. I am too tired to be much threat to anyone, even without the wolfsbane I took earlier."

Asar-Suti stood back and smiled at Rabastan. "Shift, then - you should be able to do it by yourself now without much ill effect. Once you shifted and stayed calm in our presence, we will shift as well, and then we will run."

A nod in reply, and he crouched on all fours as the sun broke through the early morning clouds to illuminate the scene better. And provide a little warmth too. Perhaps there is a god out there, trying to give me hope? he thought as the familiar pain coursed through his body. It wasn't as bad as it was before, or maybe that was just how his mind took it. The hope of loving and being loved in return was making him feel better despite his very-real fears of rejection, and that served to take away some of the aches that the transformation brought. A few minutes later, and he was staring at them both with yellow eyes that Strahan now noticed were slit-pupiled like those of a cat's.

Strahan watched as man became wolf, as animal replaced human, and, once the change was complete, took the time to take a fresh look at the creature now that it was out in better light. It looked even more like a running hound than it did in the gloom of the forest. Like a cross between wolf and running hound actually. But they weren't here to admire or assess body types they were here to teach Rabastan the things he needed to learn. And so he closed his eyes, thinking of a body that wasn't long and scaley nor thin and leggy but big, brown, massive. A bear. Good for weather like this and also good for keeping up with tired wolves.

So they were aiming for variation today? Asar-Suti remembered a special wolf, an odd sort of wolf whose shape he had taken with Strahan before, more like a fox on stilts.

So Asar-Suti turned into a maned wolf. "Shall we?" he asked.

It was a form that almost approximated Rabastan's wolf. Either way it didn't matter. They were all animals now, and should the two get ahead of him, well, brown bears were faster than horses and Strahan could easily catch them up. Providing the chill didn't touch the bear's instincts to go into a feeding overdrive now that winter was fast approaching that is.

Rabastan nodded, wagged his tail, began to trot around the edge of the lake, at a pace for the others to keep up with.

Milliways was strange but it always brought people here for a purpose...