Fic, Rocky Valley, Nick/Lester, 18
Aug. 4th, 2011 06:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fredbassettTitle : Rocky Valley
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Nick/Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Lester and Nick stay on after an anomaly in Cornwall and Lester has a surprising encounter.
A/N : Set in![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
knitekat ’s wonderful wolf-verse, ‘Under the Moonlight’ and written for her birthday. This is set some time ahead in the series, after my last foray into this world in Under the Trees. Have a great day, kitty cat, and thank you for letting me play in this fantastic ‘verse again! With many thanks to lukadreaming for the beta.
Nick stared out over the sea, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face and listening to the cries of the gulls as they twisted and turned in the air above the cliffs. Sunlight glinted on the wave tops 40 metres below and there was a light tang of salt in the air.
Beside him, Lester’s nose twitched appreciatively and Nick knew his lover was pleased that he’d allowed himself to be persuaded to stay on for a couple of days after the latest anomaly shout had ended. It was unusual for Lester to accompany the team into the field but on this occasion an anomaly opening in close proximity to a cabinet minister’s holiday cottage in Cornwall had over-ridden normal procedures. Fortunately, the anomaly had disgorged nothing more threatening than some necrolestes, small, rodent-like creatures with strange, upturned noses that Nick knew had aroused all Lester’s hunting instincts, but with the team out in force, Shifting had been wholly impractical and he’d had to console himself with dispensing copious amounts of sarcasm over the team’s efforts to round the little buggers up.
By the time the anomaly had closed, all but three of the creatures had been successfully repatriated and the remainder had accompanied Abby back to the ARC pending the appearance of another suitable anomaly. Their menagerie was growing rapidly and Lester was still attempting to find a way to keep the animals in better surroundings, but for now they’d just have to do their best with the makeshift zoo. Nick knew that Lester wasn’t wholly convinced that all the necrolestes had been tracked down, and he was certain his lover was going to propose a return to the area around the isolated cottage after dark, however until then, they were both content to enjoy an afternoon walk on one of the finest stretches of coast that the country had to offer.
The cliffs bordered the campsite where they’d managed to obtain accommodation in a large and surprisingly luxurious caravan that had served as a temporary base for their operations the previous day. The site owner had been happy to let Nick stay on for an extra night and he had been wholly unconcerned when Nick had returned in company with Lester in wolf-form once they’d been sure that the rest of the team were well on their way back to the ARC. That way there would be no raised eyebrows when Lester did some final checks around the area at night. Fortunately the fields were devoid of sheep and other livestock, so they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with trigger-happy farmers.
Lester raised his head and sniffed the air, his ears flat against his skull as the wind ruffled his thick, dark coat. He turned his head and gave Nick a quizzical glance, head tilted slightly to one side in the wolf equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
Nick groaned. “You want me to walk down that bloody path, don’t you?”
In answer, Lester trotted off in the direction of a steep, narrow path that led down the cliff and onto the beach. With four large paws and possessing an agility that Nick could never hope to equal, his lover negotiated the route down in a fraction the time it took Nick to make a more cautious descent.
They weren’t alone on the beach, but it certainly didn’t class as crowded. Lester waited patiently at the bottom for Nick to join him before finally giving in to his instincts and hurling himself across the sand in a loping run. Two black Labradors chasing a ball promptly gave him a wide berth. Lester hit the surf at speed, grabbing a piece of driftwood in his jaws and throwing it up into the air before catching it again and running along on the edge of the waves with obvious enjoyment.
Nick smiled and followed his lover at a more sedate pace. Lester needed time to run, time to get rid of the frustrations that had built up over the last 12 hours when he’d longed to Shift and use his sense of smell to aid the hunt for the necrolestes. Together – or as together as they ever were when Lester had this much surplus energy – they walked the length of the beach. Nick felt the pressures of the job slipping away from him to be carried off by a fresh, inshore breeze that whipped his hair back from his forehead and would no doubt cause it to stand up in salty spikes.
By late afternoon, the majority of dog-walkers and picnicking families had made the long haul back up the cliffs and the idea of a cold beer had started to become very appealing. He caught Lester’s eye and gestured to the path. Lester stood in the shallow water and shook himself vigorously, sending drops of water and grains of sand flying out in a wide arc. Nick failed to suppress a smile. The D-word might be strictly off-limits between them, but he had to admit that there were times when it was remarkably appropriate.
Lester trotted to his side and nudged Nick’s thigh with his head. Nick raised his eyebrows questioningly and dropped one hand to the thick ruff of fur around Lester’s neck. Another nudge sent a very firm signal that further contact would be welcomed, so Nick buried his fingers in his lover’s soft under-coat and scratched the sensitive spot behind Lester’s right ear.
“I am not getting my feet wet,” Nick murmured.
Approximately 200lbs of wet wolf stared up at him wearing an expression that could best be described as playful.
Nick backed off hurriedly. “Oh no… definitely not… I haven’t got enough changes of clothes and there’s no way I’m skinny-dipping down here… It’s far too public for that.”
Lester’s tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth in a distinctly unsettling grin. Nick laughed and turned to run, knowing perfectly well that in wolf-form Lester was capable of catching him in just one bound. A moment later, two heavy paws struck him in the small of his back and then they were on the ground, wrestling on the damp sand.
A wet tongue licked a long rasping stripe up his chin. Nick wrapped his arms around the thick fur of Lester’s neck and did his best to roll them both over. Nick was laughing and the low, rumbling growl that he’d come to associate with amusement issued from Lester’s throat. Nick knew perfectly well that in anything more than a play-fight Lester’s superior strength would immediately gain him the advantage, but that didn’t stop him trying to roll Lester over and over, accompanied by more laugher and growling as Nick tried to reach the sensitive spot on Lester’s flank in retaliation for the thorough licking he’d been subjected to.
Eventually, breathless and damp, Nick held his arms up in mute surrender,. Lester stared down at him whilst sitting heavily on Nick’s chest. He reinforced his superiority by nipping lightly at Nick’s ear and then entirely spoiled the effect by scratching himself vigorously with one hind paw, making Nick yelp loudly when the wolfish equivalent of an elbow dug hard into his groin.
Nick was still lying on his back laughing when the wail of a child in distress brought him upright in a heartbeat, memories of the last time a quiet day in the countryside with his lover had been disturbed still disconcertingly fresh in his mind. The noise was coming from a four-year-old girl wearing a pink swimming costume. Her mother, a harassed woman in her early 40s, was on her knees in the sand while a slightly younger man appeared to be searching for something on the ground.
Lester met Nick’s eyes and gave himself a slight shake. Nick smiled. “We always assume the worst in this job, don’t we?” He ruffled Lester’s fur. “Come on, I need a beer.”
Their way back to the path took them past the woman and child. The little girl was bawling her eyes out, refusing any attempts to comfort her.
The woman met Nick’s eyes and gave a slight smile. “You haven’t seen a teddy bear wearing tartan trousers have you?” she asked hopefully.
Nick glanced around automatically then shook his head. “No, sorry. When did you last see him?”
“About half an hour ago.”
The sand around them was soft and light, piled into heaps where the child had been making sandcastles and boats. Nick had memories of doing the same thing himself at her age and once nearly losing a much-beloved toy dog by burying him and then forgetting to mark the spot. After a lengthy search, they’d been reunited, but he still remembered that feeling of loss, the same feeling this little girl was experiencing.
A wet nose pushed against his leg and Nick looked down. Lester scratched at the ground with one paw then sat down and whined. The little girl stared at him with round, tearful eyes. Nick just hoped she wasn’t scared of dogs.
Lester whined very quietly and lowered his head. With the faint glimmering of a smile, the toddler held out one chubby hand. “Doggy.”
“He’s a handsome chap,” the woman commented.
“Caucasian Mountain dog,” Nick said automatically.
Lester whined again and sniffed the air, nose twitching, then scratched at the sand. As hints went, it wasn’t overly subtle.
“If your little girl would mind letting him sniff her, we might be able to help,” Nick said. “He’s a trained search and rescue dog.”
The woman’s face brightened considerably. “Oh God, that would be wonderful. Lucy won’t sleep without Mr Bear.” She knelt down and put her arm around her daughter. “Lucy, the nice doggy is going to try to find Mr Bear. He just needs to sniff you first.”
The child reached out with one hand and stroked the ruff of thick hair around Lester’s neck. Nick watched as Lester lowered his head and carefully sniffed at the child and then stood up and started casting around on the sand, nose to the ground. Moving quickly and decisively, he established a search pattern, moving gradually outwards in an ever-increasing circle, watching by Lucy, who had now stopped crying, and her hopeful parents.
Five minutes later, Lester gave a triumphant bark that didn’t exactly sound very dog-like to Nick, but that was eclipsed by the fact that a moment later he trotted back towards them, gently holding in his mouth a tattered teddy bear wearing a pair of faded tartan dungarees.
Lucy’s face lit up with delight and she flung herself on Lester, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Broad smiles from the adults told Nick exactly how much Lester’s efforts were appreciated and after smiles and thanks all round, they finally resumed their walk back up the cliff-path. When they were far enough away not to be overheard, Nick said quietly, “You’re a bloody auld softy, aren’t you?”
Lester tilted his head on one side, tongue lolling out from between long, sharp white teeth and then bounded away up the rocky path, leaving Nick to struggle along behind him, cursing the advantage of four paws over two feet for the second time that day.
To his surprise, once they were back inside the caravan, Lester remained in wolf-form, stretching out on top of the fleece blanket that Nick had used to cover the sofa. Nick poured himself a beer and joined Lester.
“I can draw the curtains so you can Shift back, if you like,” he offered.
Lester simply stretched out even further and rested his head in Nick’s lap. Nick smiled. It looked like he had his answer.
* * * * *
Lester stood next to Nick in the doorway of the caravan, still in wolf-form, and sniffed the air. He could smell the salt tang of the sea, sharp and fresh, combined with the lush aroma of freshly-mown grass, more vivid than anything his human senses could have experienced.
The campsite was neat and well-kept, only half-full this early in the season but in the middle of summer he knew it would be a lot more crowded. Before they had supper, Lester wanted to take a last look around the nearby valley where the anomaly had been, just to be sure they really had caught all the necrolestes. He was sure he’d be able to pick up their scent. The ones the team had caught had given off a distinct odour that had reminded him of over-ripe ferret.
The coast path ran along one edge of the site and quickly led them down a winding track into the aptly-named Rocky Valley. A small stream had cut a deep channel through the slate that widened out as it met the cliff-edge and spilled the water down onto the rocks below. Nick stopped for a moment to admire the view as Lester scrambled a short way up the grassy slope and attempted to look non-threatening as a pair of elegant greyhounds walked past beside a pair of hikers. The dogs glanced up at him, but displayed no fear and continued calmly along the path as their owners exchanged the usual pleasantries with Nick.
A little way up the valley, the track passed through the ruins of an old mill building. A shiver ran up Lester’s spine as he stared up at a collection of rags and ribbons tied to a tangle of ivy roots and tree branches that clung to a quarried face of dark grey slate and cast a shadow over the damp ground. Underneath the canopy of leaves, he saw two labyrinth symbols etched deeply into the rock. A plaque on the wall stated that they were believed to be Bronze Age carvings.
Nick stared around him and muttered under his breath about New Age nonsense, no doubt referring both to the small offerings tied to the branches and the numerous pieces of slate onto which people had scratched names and dates before placing them in niches in the rock. Coins and chunks of polished stone had also been deposited in cracks, no doubt following the same impulse that made people throw pennies into fountains. Some of them had been there so long that the water had corroded them away almost to nothing, leaving nothing but brown stains behind on the weathered slate.
In spite of Nick’s scepticism, Lester felt a connection with the site that he knew he would have found difficulty articulating if he’d been in human form, but now, as a wolf, he didn’t need to bow to convention, or to pretend that these offerings meant nothing. He sat down on his haunches in front of the slate cliff and threw back his head, giving a low howl that echoed between the wall of the ruined building and the small quarry.
Nick stared down at him, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Lester stood up and inclined his head to the shrine that held echoes of ancient rag wells and then stalked on up the path, satisfied that he’d honoured the urge that impelled human beings to make such offerings. At the top of a rough flight of steps he turned around in time to see Nick hesitate for a moment before carefully placing a 20 pence piece on a small ledge.
When he caught up with Lester, Nick gave a slightly self-conscious smile and said, “Aye, maybe I was too hasty to criticise.”
Lester butted his head against his lover’s leg and accepted an apologetic scratch behind his ears. Nick might pride himself on being a man of science, but Lester knew that as a child he’d been immersed in the tales of the highlands and islands by his grandmother and that the coin had no doubt been left in her memory.
On their way up the valley they passed another mill building, also constructed out of slate, probably quarried from the same valley, nestling amidst well-tended gardens. An old woman standing outside the front door watched them as they walked alongside the stream.
The anomaly had been located in a small patch of trees close to the head of the valley. Lester took the low, barbed wire fence in one easy leap and started to cast around on the ground for the scent of the necrolestes. The trails were heavily overlaid by the smells left behind by their pursuers, but fortunately the creatures were pungent enough to stand out. While Nick waited on the edge of the copse, Lester started to follow first one scent and then another, noting when each one mingled with the smell of human being, indicating that a creature had been caught. He could smell the leather of the soldiers’ boots and the sharp, metallic smell of their guns that still lingered in the air.
He was now existing in a world of smell so intense that it was as though coloured lines had been drawn in the air by the glow-sticks that his children had such fun with at parties. He saw the scent of the necrolestes as a rich, loamy brown, overlain by a dull metallic grey for the soldiers and a vivid lime green for Abby, the scent of her hair shampoo mixed with a citrus deodorant. Nick’s familiar smell showed up as a golden trail that reminded Lester of the aroma of the malt whiskies that his lover enjoyed.
Lester was keeping a tally in his mind of the number of creatures that had been captured and repatriated to their own time, ticking each one off as they were accounted for. To his surprise, it was starting to look as though the team had in fact been successful in their efforts. As he widened the search area, Lester suddenly caught a whiff of something new, the sharp musk of fox, no doubt drawn by the unfamiliar scents of a strange animal. The trail became confused for a moment, but even the smell of fox wasn’t quite able to mask that of the small mammals he was tracking and by the edge of the field, he was able to reconstruct the moment when Abby had launched herself head-first across the grass, narrowly avoiding ending up face-down in a cow pat as she captured the last of the runaways before it had escaped beneath a dense hedge.
While Nick waited patiently for him, Lester made once last pass through the field, widening his search area beyond the main area of activity, hoping to pick up any trace of an escapee, but apart from the rich, grass-laden smell of cows and the musk of the fox, he eventually drew a very satisfactory blank. Pleased that they wouldn’t have to spend the night in close quarters with a prehistoric ferret, Lester trotted back towards Nick.
“Anything?” his lover enquired.
Lester tilted his head to one side and gave two quiet barks: his way of signifying no. One bark would have meant yes. He could tell that Nick was having to restrain himself from delivering a pat. He stood up and pressed himself against Nick, making it easy for him to run his hand through Lester’s fur.
While he’d been searching the field and amongst the trees, the shadows of evening had started to draw in, casting deep shadows in the steep-sided valley. Lester made his way back down the track, four paws once again serving him better than two feet. Nick followed at a more sedate pace.
Lester’s enhanced senses alerted him to the fact that they were not alone in the valley. The scent of soap and strawberry jam was wrapped around the old woman from the mill house as warmly as the blue woollen cardigan she was wearing. She stared down at him, an expression of wonder on her lined face. To Lester’s amazement, she bobbed something that very closely resembled a curtsey and inclined her head to him in a gesture of respect.
Lester stopped on the path, feeling the same prickle along his backbone that he’d felt down by the rag shrine and stared up at her. She met his gaze and gave him a tentative smile.
“You are welcome in this valley,” she said quietly. “My grandmother died believing she was the last of the Old Ones. It would have made her very happy to know that she was wrong.”
Her words were barely louder than the wind in the trees, but they raised the fur on Lester’s neck and he knew that his jaws were no doubt gaping wide in lupine astonishment. This was the first time anyone had ever recognised him for what he was, but he knew with absolute certainty that the old woman was indeed aware of his nature.
She glanced up the path to where Nick was approaching them. “Does he know?”
Without thinking, Lester gave one short, sharp bark and watched as a look of surprise and delight crossed the woman’s face. She had clearly understood his answer. Lester was strongly tempted to Shift so he could talk properly to the woman, but the risk of being seen by a walker in the valley was too great.
“Good evening,” Nick said politely. “This is a beautiful spot.”
The woman smiled at him. “Aye, it is. You are welcome amongst us.” She curtseyed again to Lester. “Eva Treganowan, at your service. I’m told I bake very good scones, if you would ever like to call in sometime.”
Lester sniffed the air appreciatively. If they did, strawberry jam would no doubt be involved as well.
Before Nick had chance to reply, Lester heard the noise of a car approaching the mill house down the rough track that led up to the tarmac road at the head of the valley that ran between Boscastle and Tintagel. A Land Rover pulled into the courtyard and a woman in her early 30s with two young children jumped out. They were followed by two collie dogs.
“My neighbour and her children,” Mrs Treganowan said. “They’ve come for some jam.” She smiled at them both and turned to welcome her visitors.
One of the collies sniffed the air and took up a protective stance in front of the children so, with a last regretful look behind him, Lester moved away down the narrow path beside the stream, with Nick following behind. Questions were buzzing in his brain like hornets around a nest and once again he felt the prickle of energy through his fur as he passed back through the shrine that had grown up around the rock carvings.
He knew without needing to be told that this valley would guard its secrets well.
* * * * *
“She knew what you were?” Nick stared down at his lover in amazement, wondering why Lester had waited until Nick was buried balls-deep in his arse before recounting the old woman’s words.
Lester nodded, pressing up to meet Nick’s thrusts. His fingernails raked at the skin of Nick’s back with an exhilarating urgency and he clamped down hard on Nick’s cock.
“Christ, James!” The sudden rush of pleasure caught Nick unawares and he came hard, gasping as he emptied himself into his lover’s body.
Lester’s cock bobbed invitingly against the taut muscles of his stomach and moments later, Nick captured it between his lips, using his mouth and hands to bring Lester to a shuddering and clearly much-needed release. As they lay together in a sweat-soaked tangle of arms and legs, both breathing hard, Nick knew that Lester was still struggling to deal with what had happened earlier and for now, talk would get them nowhere. He ran his hand over Lester’s skin and dipped one finger experimentally into his relaxed, already fucked-open body, still slick with Nick’s come.
A needy moan told Nick that it would be a while before he would be allowed to get some sleep.
* * * * *
Nick shifted in the passenger seat of Lester’s car, the slight ache in his arse a pleasant reminder of their activities the night before.
Lester’s hopes of a return to Rocky Valley had been dashed by an early morning call from the Home Secretary demanding yet another budget meeting at short notice, but even that hadn’t managed to dampen his lover’s spirits.
From the look that Lester cast back over his shoulder as the car pulled out of the campsite onto the road towards Boscastle, Nick knew it wouldn’t be long before an excuse would be found for them to return to Cornwall.
Author : fredbassett
Fandom : Primeval
Rating : 18
Characters : Nick/Lester
Disclaimer : Not mine no money made, don’t sue.
Spoilers : None
Summary : Lester and Nick stay on after an anomaly in Cornwall and Lester has a surprising encounter.
A/N : Set in
knitekat ’s wonderful wolf-verse, ‘Under the Moonlight’ and written for her birthday. This is set some time ahead in the series, after my last foray into this world in Under the Trees. Have a great day, kitty cat, and thank you for letting me play in this fantastic ‘verse again! With many thanks to lukadreaming for the beta.Nick stared out over the sea, enjoying the feel of the wind on his face and listening to the cries of the gulls as they twisted and turned in the air above the cliffs. Sunlight glinted on the wave tops 40 metres below and there was a light tang of salt in the air.
Beside him, Lester’s nose twitched appreciatively and Nick knew his lover was pleased that he’d allowed himself to be persuaded to stay on for a couple of days after the latest anomaly shout had ended. It was unusual for Lester to accompany the team into the field but on this occasion an anomaly opening in close proximity to a cabinet minister’s holiday cottage in Cornwall had over-ridden normal procedures. Fortunately, the anomaly had disgorged nothing more threatening than some necrolestes, small, rodent-like creatures with strange, upturned noses that Nick knew had aroused all Lester’s hunting instincts, but with the team out in force, Shifting had been wholly impractical and he’d had to console himself with dispensing copious amounts of sarcasm over the team’s efforts to round the little buggers up.
By the time the anomaly had closed, all but three of the creatures had been successfully repatriated and the remainder had accompanied Abby back to the ARC pending the appearance of another suitable anomaly. Their menagerie was growing rapidly and Lester was still attempting to find a way to keep the animals in better surroundings, but for now they’d just have to do their best with the makeshift zoo. Nick knew that Lester wasn’t wholly convinced that all the necrolestes had been tracked down, and he was certain his lover was going to propose a return to the area around the isolated cottage after dark, however until then, they were both content to enjoy an afternoon walk on one of the finest stretches of coast that the country had to offer.
The cliffs bordered the campsite where they’d managed to obtain accommodation in a large and surprisingly luxurious caravan that had served as a temporary base for their operations the previous day. The site owner had been happy to let Nick stay on for an extra night and he had been wholly unconcerned when Nick had returned in company with Lester in wolf-form once they’d been sure that the rest of the team were well on their way back to the ARC. That way there would be no raised eyebrows when Lester did some final checks around the area at night. Fortunately the fields were devoid of sheep and other livestock, so they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with trigger-happy farmers.
Lester raised his head and sniffed the air, his ears flat against his skull as the wind ruffled his thick, dark coat. He turned his head and gave Nick a quizzical glance, head tilted slightly to one side in the wolf equivalent of a raised eyebrow.
Nick groaned. “You want me to walk down that bloody path, don’t you?”
In answer, Lester trotted off in the direction of a steep, narrow path that led down the cliff and onto the beach. With four large paws and possessing an agility that Nick could never hope to equal, his lover negotiated the route down in a fraction the time it took Nick to make a more cautious descent.
They weren’t alone on the beach, but it certainly didn’t class as crowded. Lester waited patiently at the bottom for Nick to join him before finally giving in to his instincts and hurling himself across the sand in a loping run. Two black Labradors chasing a ball promptly gave him a wide berth. Lester hit the surf at speed, grabbing a piece of driftwood in his jaws and throwing it up into the air before catching it again and running along on the edge of the waves with obvious enjoyment.
Nick smiled and followed his lover at a more sedate pace. Lester needed time to run, time to get rid of the frustrations that had built up over the last 12 hours when he’d longed to Shift and use his sense of smell to aid the hunt for the necrolestes. Together – or as together as they ever were when Lester had this much surplus energy – they walked the length of the beach. Nick felt the pressures of the job slipping away from him to be carried off by a fresh, inshore breeze that whipped his hair back from his forehead and would no doubt cause it to stand up in salty spikes.
By late afternoon, the majority of dog-walkers and picnicking families had made the long haul back up the cliffs and the idea of a cold beer had started to become very appealing. He caught Lester’s eye and gestured to the path. Lester stood in the shallow water and shook himself vigorously, sending drops of water and grains of sand flying out in a wide arc. Nick failed to suppress a smile. The D-word might be strictly off-limits between them, but he had to admit that there were times when it was remarkably appropriate.
Lester trotted to his side and nudged Nick’s thigh with his head. Nick raised his eyebrows questioningly and dropped one hand to the thick ruff of fur around Lester’s neck. Another nudge sent a very firm signal that further contact would be welcomed, so Nick buried his fingers in his lover’s soft under-coat and scratched the sensitive spot behind Lester’s right ear.
“I am not getting my feet wet,” Nick murmured.
Approximately 200lbs of wet wolf stared up at him wearing an expression that could best be described as playful.
Nick backed off hurriedly. “Oh no… definitely not… I haven’t got enough changes of clothes and there’s no way I’m skinny-dipping down here… It’s far too public for that.”
Lester’s tongue lolled out of one side of his mouth in a distinctly unsettling grin. Nick laughed and turned to run, knowing perfectly well that in wolf-form Lester was capable of catching him in just one bound. A moment later, two heavy paws struck him in the small of his back and then they were on the ground, wrestling on the damp sand.
A wet tongue licked a long rasping stripe up his chin. Nick wrapped his arms around the thick fur of Lester’s neck and did his best to roll them both over. Nick was laughing and the low, rumbling growl that he’d come to associate with amusement issued from Lester’s throat. Nick knew perfectly well that in anything more than a play-fight Lester’s superior strength would immediately gain him the advantage, but that didn’t stop him trying to roll Lester over and over, accompanied by more laugher and growling as Nick tried to reach the sensitive spot on Lester’s flank in retaliation for the thorough licking he’d been subjected to.
Eventually, breathless and damp, Nick held his arms up in mute surrender,. Lester stared down at him whilst sitting heavily on Nick’s chest. He reinforced his superiority by nipping lightly at Nick’s ear and then entirely spoiled the effect by scratching himself vigorously with one hind paw, making Nick yelp loudly when the wolfish equivalent of an elbow dug hard into his groin.
Nick was still lying on his back laughing when the wail of a child in distress brought him upright in a heartbeat, memories of the last time a quiet day in the countryside with his lover had been disturbed still disconcertingly fresh in his mind. The noise was coming from a four-year-old girl wearing a pink swimming costume. Her mother, a harassed woman in her early 40s, was on her knees in the sand while a slightly younger man appeared to be searching for something on the ground.
Lester met Nick’s eyes and gave himself a slight shake. Nick smiled. “We always assume the worst in this job, don’t we?” He ruffled Lester’s fur. “Come on, I need a beer.”
Their way back to the path took them past the woman and child. The little girl was bawling her eyes out, refusing any attempts to comfort her.
The woman met Nick’s eyes and gave a slight smile. “You haven’t seen a teddy bear wearing tartan trousers have you?” she asked hopefully.
Nick glanced around automatically then shook his head. “No, sorry. When did you last see him?”
“About half an hour ago.”
The sand around them was soft and light, piled into heaps where the child had been making sandcastles and boats. Nick had memories of doing the same thing himself at her age and once nearly losing a much-beloved toy dog by burying him and then forgetting to mark the spot. After a lengthy search, they’d been reunited, but he still remembered that feeling of loss, the same feeling this little girl was experiencing.
A wet nose pushed against his leg and Nick looked down. Lester scratched at the ground with one paw then sat down and whined. The little girl stared at him with round, tearful eyes. Nick just hoped she wasn’t scared of dogs.
Lester whined very quietly and lowered his head. With the faint glimmering of a smile, the toddler held out one chubby hand. “Doggy.”
“He’s a handsome chap,” the woman commented.
“Caucasian Mountain dog,” Nick said automatically.
Lester whined again and sniffed the air, nose twitching, then scratched at the sand. As hints went, it wasn’t overly subtle.
“If your little girl would mind letting him sniff her, we might be able to help,” Nick said. “He’s a trained search and rescue dog.”
The woman’s face brightened considerably. “Oh God, that would be wonderful. Lucy won’t sleep without Mr Bear.” She knelt down and put her arm around her daughter. “Lucy, the nice doggy is going to try to find Mr Bear. He just needs to sniff you first.”
The child reached out with one hand and stroked the ruff of thick hair around Lester’s neck. Nick watched as Lester lowered his head and carefully sniffed at the child and then stood up and started casting around on the sand, nose to the ground. Moving quickly and decisively, he established a search pattern, moving gradually outwards in an ever-increasing circle, watching by Lucy, who had now stopped crying, and her hopeful parents.
Five minutes later, Lester gave a triumphant bark that didn’t exactly sound very dog-like to Nick, but that was eclipsed by the fact that a moment later he trotted back towards them, gently holding in his mouth a tattered teddy bear wearing a pair of faded tartan dungarees.
Lucy’s face lit up with delight and she flung herself on Lester, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck.
Broad smiles from the adults told Nick exactly how much Lester’s efforts were appreciated and after smiles and thanks all round, they finally resumed their walk back up the cliff-path. When they were far enough away not to be overheard, Nick said quietly, “You’re a bloody auld softy, aren’t you?”
Lester tilted his head on one side, tongue lolling out from between long, sharp white teeth and then bounded away up the rocky path, leaving Nick to struggle along behind him, cursing the advantage of four paws over two feet for the second time that day.
To his surprise, once they were back inside the caravan, Lester remained in wolf-form, stretching out on top of the fleece blanket that Nick had used to cover the sofa. Nick poured himself a beer and joined Lester.
“I can draw the curtains so you can Shift back, if you like,” he offered.
Lester simply stretched out even further and rested his head in Nick’s lap. Nick smiled. It looked like he had his answer.
* * * * *
Lester stood next to Nick in the doorway of the caravan, still in wolf-form, and sniffed the air. He could smell the salt tang of the sea, sharp and fresh, combined with the lush aroma of freshly-mown grass, more vivid than anything his human senses could have experienced.
The campsite was neat and well-kept, only half-full this early in the season but in the middle of summer he knew it would be a lot more crowded. Before they had supper, Lester wanted to take a last look around the nearby valley where the anomaly had been, just to be sure they really had caught all the necrolestes. He was sure he’d be able to pick up their scent. The ones the team had caught had given off a distinct odour that had reminded him of over-ripe ferret.
The coast path ran along one edge of the site and quickly led them down a winding track into the aptly-named Rocky Valley. A small stream had cut a deep channel through the slate that widened out as it met the cliff-edge and spilled the water down onto the rocks below. Nick stopped for a moment to admire the view as Lester scrambled a short way up the grassy slope and attempted to look non-threatening as a pair of elegant greyhounds walked past beside a pair of hikers. The dogs glanced up at him, but displayed no fear and continued calmly along the path as their owners exchanged the usual pleasantries with Nick.
A little way up the valley, the track passed through the ruins of an old mill building. A shiver ran up Lester’s spine as he stared up at a collection of rags and ribbons tied to a tangle of ivy roots and tree branches that clung to a quarried face of dark grey slate and cast a shadow over the damp ground. Underneath the canopy of leaves, he saw two labyrinth symbols etched deeply into the rock. A plaque on the wall stated that they were believed to be Bronze Age carvings.
Nick stared around him and muttered under his breath about New Age nonsense, no doubt referring both to the small offerings tied to the branches and the numerous pieces of slate onto which people had scratched names and dates before placing them in niches in the rock. Coins and chunks of polished stone had also been deposited in cracks, no doubt following the same impulse that made people throw pennies into fountains. Some of them had been there so long that the water had corroded them away almost to nothing, leaving nothing but brown stains behind on the weathered slate.
In spite of Nick’s scepticism, Lester felt a connection with the site that he knew he would have found difficulty articulating if he’d been in human form, but now, as a wolf, he didn’t need to bow to convention, or to pretend that these offerings meant nothing. He sat down on his haunches in front of the slate cliff and threw back his head, giving a low howl that echoed between the wall of the ruined building and the small quarry.
Nick stared down at him, his eyebrows raised questioningly. Lester stood up and inclined his head to the shrine that held echoes of ancient rag wells and then stalked on up the path, satisfied that he’d honoured the urge that impelled human beings to make such offerings. At the top of a rough flight of steps he turned around in time to see Nick hesitate for a moment before carefully placing a 20 pence piece on a small ledge.
When he caught up with Lester, Nick gave a slightly self-conscious smile and said, “Aye, maybe I was too hasty to criticise.”
Lester butted his head against his lover’s leg and accepted an apologetic scratch behind his ears. Nick might pride himself on being a man of science, but Lester knew that as a child he’d been immersed in the tales of the highlands and islands by his grandmother and that the coin had no doubt been left in her memory.
On their way up the valley they passed another mill building, also constructed out of slate, probably quarried from the same valley, nestling amidst well-tended gardens. An old woman standing outside the front door watched them as they walked alongside the stream.
The anomaly had been located in a small patch of trees close to the head of the valley. Lester took the low, barbed wire fence in one easy leap and started to cast around on the ground for the scent of the necrolestes. The trails were heavily overlaid by the smells left behind by their pursuers, but fortunately the creatures were pungent enough to stand out. While Nick waited on the edge of the copse, Lester started to follow first one scent and then another, noting when each one mingled with the smell of human being, indicating that a creature had been caught. He could smell the leather of the soldiers’ boots and the sharp, metallic smell of their guns that still lingered in the air.
He was now existing in a world of smell so intense that it was as though coloured lines had been drawn in the air by the glow-sticks that his children had such fun with at parties. He saw the scent of the necrolestes as a rich, loamy brown, overlain by a dull metallic grey for the soldiers and a vivid lime green for Abby, the scent of her hair shampoo mixed with a citrus deodorant. Nick’s familiar smell showed up as a golden trail that reminded Lester of the aroma of the malt whiskies that his lover enjoyed.
Lester was keeping a tally in his mind of the number of creatures that had been captured and repatriated to their own time, ticking each one off as they were accounted for. To his surprise, it was starting to look as though the team had in fact been successful in their efforts. As he widened the search area, Lester suddenly caught a whiff of something new, the sharp musk of fox, no doubt drawn by the unfamiliar scents of a strange animal. The trail became confused for a moment, but even the smell of fox wasn’t quite able to mask that of the small mammals he was tracking and by the edge of the field, he was able to reconstruct the moment when Abby had launched herself head-first across the grass, narrowly avoiding ending up face-down in a cow pat as she captured the last of the runaways before it had escaped beneath a dense hedge.
While Nick waited patiently for him, Lester made once last pass through the field, widening his search area beyond the main area of activity, hoping to pick up any trace of an escapee, but apart from the rich, grass-laden smell of cows and the musk of the fox, he eventually drew a very satisfactory blank. Pleased that they wouldn’t have to spend the night in close quarters with a prehistoric ferret, Lester trotted back towards Nick.
“Anything?” his lover enquired.
Lester tilted his head to one side and gave two quiet barks: his way of signifying no. One bark would have meant yes. He could tell that Nick was having to restrain himself from delivering a pat. He stood up and pressed himself against Nick, making it easy for him to run his hand through Lester’s fur.
While he’d been searching the field and amongst the trees, the shadows of evening had started to draw in, casting deep shadows in the steep-sided valley. Lester made his way back down the track, four paws once again serving him better than two feet. Nick followed at a more sedate pace.
Lester’s enhanced senses alerted him to the fact that they were not alone in the valley. The scent of soap and strawberry jam was wrapped around the old woman from the mill house as warmly as the blue woollen cardigan she was wearing. She stared down at him, an expression of wonder on her lined face. To Lester’s amazement, she bobbed something that very closely resembled a curtsey and inclined her head to him in a gesture of respect.
Lester stopped on the path, feeling the same prickle along his backbone that he’d felt down by the rag shrine and stared up at her. She met his gaze and gave him a tentative smile.
“You are welcome in this valley,” she said quietly. “My grandmother died believing she was the last of the Old Ones. It would have made her very happy to know that she was wrong.”
Her words were barely louder than the wind in the trees, but they raised the fur on Lester’s neck and he knew that his jaws were no doubt gaping wide in lupine astonishment. This was the first time anyone had ever recognised him for what he was, but he knew with absolute certainty that the old woman was indeed aware of his nature.
She glanced up the path to where Nick was approaching them. “Does he know?”
Without thinking, Lester gave one short, sharp bark and watched as a look of surprise and delight crossed the woman’s face. She had clearly understood his answer. Lester was strongly tempted to Shift so he could talk properly to the woman, but the risk of being seen by a walker in the valley was too great.
“Good evening,” Nick said politely. “This is a beautiful spot.”
The woman smiled at him. “Aye, it is. You are welcome amongst us.” She curtseyed again to Lester. “Eva Treganowan, at your service. I’m told I bake very good scones, if you would ever like to call in sometime.”
Lester sniffed the air appreciatively. If they did, strawberry jam would no doubt be involved as well.
Before Nick had chance to reply, Lester heard the noise of a car approaching the mill house down the rough track that led up to the tarmac road at the head of the valley that ran between Boscastle and Tintagel. A Land Rover pulled into the courtyard and a woman in her early 30s with two young children jumped out. They were followed by two collie dogs.
“My neighbour and her children,” Mrs Treganowan said. “They’ve come for some jam.” She smiled at them both and turned to welcome her visitors.
One of the collies sniffed the air and took up a protective stance in front of the children so, with a last regretful look behind him, Lester moved away down the narrow path beside the stream, with Nick following behind. Questions were buzzing in his brain like hornets around a nest and once again he felt the prickle of energy through his fur as he passed back through the shrine that had grown up around the rock carvings.
He knew without needing to be told that this valley would guard its secrets well.
* * * * *
“She knew what you were?” Nick stared down at his lover in amazement, wondering why Lester had waited until Nick was buried balls-deep in his arse before recounting the old woman’s words.
Lester nodded, pressing up to meet Nick’s thrusts. His fingernails raked at the skin of Nick’s back with an exhilarating urgency and he clamped down hard on Nick’s cock.
“Christ, James!” The sudden rush of pleasure caught Nick unawares and he came hard, gasping as he emptied himself into his lover’s body.
Lester’s cock bobbed invitingly against the taut muscles of his stomach and moments later, Nick captured it between his lips, using his mouth and hands to bring Lester to a shuddering and clearly much-needed release. As they lay together in a sweat-soaked tangle of arms and legs, both breathing hard, Nick knew that Lester was still struggling to deal with what had happened earlier and for now, talk would get them nowhere. He ran his hand over Lester’s skin and dipped one finger experimentally into his relaxed, already fucked-open body, still slick with Nick’s come.
A needy moan told Nick that it would be a while before he would be allowed to get some sleep.
* * * * *
Nick shifted in the passenger seat of Lester’s car, the slight ache in his arse a pleasant reminder of their activities the night before.
Lester’s hopes of a return to Rocky Valley had been dashed by an early morning call from the Home Secretary demanding yet another budget meeting at short notice, but even that hadn’t managed to dampen his lover’s spirits.
From the look that Lester cast back over his shoulder as the car pulled out of the campsite onto the road towards Boscastle, Nick knew it wouldn’t be long before an excuse would be found for them to return to Cornwall.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 05:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 08:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 09:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 08:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 07:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 07:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-04 08:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 08:41 am (UTC)But trust him to wait until they're having sex to get chatty, lol!
no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 09:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 09:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 09:33 am (UTC)I'm so glad I managed to convey that atmosphere, and wolf-Lester would definitely have felt a connection.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 12:39 pm (UTC)I love it when visiting places and their history are an inspiration.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 12:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 09:41 pm (UTC)Loved the whole fic. It was great that Lester could spend time as the wolf, playing and enjoying himself. It doesn't surprise me he didn't want to change back. Its great he got to play the hero again (big softie). The rock art/offerings and both boys reactions were lovely too. Eva FTW! Hee over Lester only telling Nick she knew what he was during sex.
*purrs and tacklehugs the hound*
no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 09:43 pm (UTC)It's an honour to play in your wonderful verse!
I saw the Rocky Valley shrine and just felt totally drawn to having Lester there in this story.
no subject
Date: 2011-08-05 11:21 pm (UTC)I'm happy you like it enough to want to play in it.
*ponders*
no subject
Date: 2011-08-06 01:21 am (UTC)Wonderful fiction as usual :)
no subject
Date: 2011-08-06 08:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 06:34 pm (UTC)I really liked Mrs Treganowan and I can see them going back to see her again. (That was totally not a really obvious hint...)
no subject
Date: 2011-11-02 07:00 pm (UTC)I do believe
no subject
Date: 2011-11-15 10:50 pm (UTC)Will there be a sequel where we will get to know more about the mysterious woman who knows Lester's secret?
no subject
Date: 2011-11-15 10:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-11-15 11:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-02-12 08:02 pm (UTC)“You are welcome in this valley,” she said quietly. “My grandmother died believing she was the last of the Old Ones. It would have made her very happy to know that she was wrong.”
That made a shiver go up my spine. Wow.
no subject
Date: 2018-02-12 08:06 pm (UTC)