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 Post subject: Quote: “Next Time I will Stay!” (UC/Slash Adult) 02/08/06
PostPosted: Wed Feb 08, 2006 1:53 pm 
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Location: Dimaras Rock, Antar
Zan’s Adoration of the Warrior Series: The Continuing Saga of Zan and Rath

Title: Quote: “Next Time I will Stay!”

Author: suicide_eagle_rath

Contest: Majik’s Valentine’s Day Challenge (Majik's World of Fan Fic)

Disclaimer: The characters belong to Melinda Metz, Jason Katims, WB and UPN. They are not mine and no infringement intended. I am only attempting to finish a riveting story from one point of view.

Pairings: Zan and Rath (a.k.a. TellymonRath or Tellymon in my books)

Rating: Adult Mature Only // Slash

Fandom: Roswell

Summary: This is on Antar—in the past. TellymonRath has a problem with romantic interludes involving Zan and tends to create a reason to be away from the Palace when Zan makes plans for the two of them. He must come to term with his relationship with Zan and that involves any factors before he finally tries to do what s right.

Author’s Note: This is a new material written for The Past Returns: Book Two of the Chronicles of Antar. There will be many terms, events, or items may be hard to understand without prior knowledge of the series. I will try to explain some in this piece, but not all explanations will be possible.

Warning: Read at your own risk. Profanity, violent fight description and sexual scene between m/m do occur in this piece.

Word Count: 5000 on the nose (including title and “the end”)


Quote: “Next Time I will Stay!”

TellymonRath was disturbed, something was wrong. He had paced for almost two hours, watching the streets below his window; the streets that were just too quiet, the streets that were just to void of life, the streets that spoke of death more than life. Not liking the feeling, he ordered the Imperial Guards, which had accompanied him, to dress and quietly take up positions outside, in order to lay a trap.

Tellymon took up residence inside the inn, just down the hallway in a little alcove that permitted a view of the street below and of the door to his room. He wanted to know who was at the heart of the terrorism that had enveloped the small city residents. Minutes passed into hours as he sat there posed to strike, the Temple had taught him great patience when hunting an enemy.

Then suddenly out of the corner of his eye, Tellymon saw movement, three figures approached the rooms that he and his escort had occupied; dummies now lay in their place. Tellymon crept forward as he watched the figures attacked the dummies with great zeal and pleasure apparent in their utter destruction. The attackers soon noticed, there was no blood apparent to the nose or eyes, nor any sounds of screams, or moans to the ears. Their blades were clean as the metal gleamed in the moonlight.

Tellymon entered the room without their knowledge; before they could react, he struck fast and accurately. Directly in front of him was the first to die, his blade succeeded in cutting almost though the neck in a single swipe. The man fell to the ground before he uttered a single note of speech. The other two turned to defend themselves as Tellymon countered by disappearing and then reappearing to the left of the second man, his knife finding its home in the heart, which he carved out of the man’s side like a surgeon of old. Smiling he held the beating heart in his hand, the eyes of the man screamed in terror as he fell onto the ground, with a deep barbaric laugh Tellymon dropped the heart dropped onto the corpse.

The final man was terrified; he had never come upon an opponent that so fast and unpredictable before. He stabbed widely in the air; once again, Tellymon countered the move and caught the man off guard, as he suddenly appeared in front with his blade against the man’s throat. The would-be assassin started shaking, begging nonverbally to die a merciful death, hopping that the knife at his throat would be quick and painless.

“Who are you? What do you want with us?” TellymonRath yelled the rage was just below the surface, the pressure was mounting, to torment the enemy into talking. “Tell me!” The rage would take great pleasure in torturing, the emotions culminating in terror, fear, those images the rage would swallow whole and spit back as venom directed at the enemies veins. Tellymon took a deep breath as he brought the rage under control. “Tell me!” He yelled again as he backhanded the man, throwing him against the back wall.

The man was petrified; he could feel cold sadistic savage waves ebb off Tellymon, whoever this man was, he was powerful.

“Please my Lord,” the man finally spoke in barely an audible raspy voice. “I beg not for my own life but for that of my family. They know nothing of my transgression.”

“Why?” The room shook with fear. “Why did you attack me?”

“I was hired.” The man stuttered out, “I was told you and your men raped a child as a sacrifice to ancient she-beast the one called Evil Bitch Monster of Death.” The man was wiping the tears from his face. “My wife is pregnant and needs expensive medical treatment or she will die when the child is born.”

Tellymon took in a pure breath, as he allowed himself to enter the mind of his enemy verifying if what he said was truth or lie. The man screamed in pain as Tellymon forced himself inside; it was a horrible invasion, especially for the lesser races because they are ill equipped and unprepared for the procedure.

Satisfied with what he found, Tellymon pointed to a bed and he ordered the man to sit as he indicated for the Imperial Guards to enter the room.

“You’re pretty good with that blade when your victim is asleep. How good are you when he is awake?”

“I thought I was pretty good. I have never come upon a fighter like you. Commander Rath could use you against the Ki’var.”

“Funny I was just thinking the same about you.”

Tellymon was quick but not quick enough this time as a blade had cut deeply into his side and back. “Take two men and escort this man to where he lives. Find him a position in the Imperial Army, he is good with a blade, just needs to channel his energy in a more positive path.” Tellymon winced as he felt his back wet; the moisture was beginning to run down the band of his pants. "The rest of us will head for the Palace now." Tellymon turned and walked out the door, He was concentrating on sending the healing energy down to his wound, but the fight had tired him, add the fact that he was pissed that he had been out maneuvered and injured, both elements were detrimental to his healing abilities the process was slow.

“You let’s go,” one of the Imperial Guards pointed the way to the door.

“Who was that?” the man asked as he got up slowly from the bed.

“Him? You really do not know who that was.” All the soldiers all started laughing. “Why my lad that was the Warrior Price TellymonRath.”

The man turned pale as his knees buckled, he collapsed back down onto the bed. “Commander Rath?” His life was spared by his idol, the one he had waited for, the one they worshipped, the prophecy that had been told.


Tellymon set the pace for the animals hard and fast, not letting up until he was in the palace complex. Going up the backstairs, he entered his quarters quietly going straight to the bathroom, where he stripped off his black shirt. Looking in the mirrors he saw the gash, still slightly bleeding, an open wound almost 6 inches across and a couple of inches deep. “Damn!” he yelled, his emotions were no longer in check, “Damn!” he pounded his fist on the counter.

Zan awoke, he swore he heard Rath in the palace, but he left had without word earlier to check out a slight disturbance in a small city to the south of the White Palace. Zan could feel something was different; the air had changed somehow. Suddenly he shot up as a pain seared through his side, as if a hot blade had been driven across his flesh. “Tellymon!” he screamed as he jumped out of bed and ran to the hidden panel that separated their two rooms

Entering he saw the drops of blood on the floor, the trail leading directly to the bathroom. He quickly ran up the steps to the door, taking a deep breath he slid it opened seeing Tellymon standing before a mirror looking at his side. “Damn!” Zan smiled as he heard Rath cuss, that meant he was alive and okay, wounded, yes, but okay.

“Need help?”

“No, I can take care of it myself. Damn!”

Zan smiled even more as he approached Tellymon, “Here let me,” he said in a soft voice as he laid his hand upon the wound finishing the healing. Stepping back, he examined the unblemished skin, “Feels better doesn’t it?”

“Yeah!” Tellymon watched Zan carefully in the mirror, wondering if he was mad because he had just left without word. Zan had this whole romantic night planned, dinner, music, everything, every detail, which made Rath uncomfortable so he left at the first chance that presented itself. Now he regretted leaving so hastily.

“What happened?” asked Zan as he closed the gap between them, his breath was hot against Tellymon’s neck.

“Assassins tried to murder us in our sleep. I did not sidestep quickly enough. That’s all.” Tellymon shrugged his shoulders; he could feel Zan hair against his cheek.

“Happens to the best warrior,” whispered Zan into Tellymon’s ear, as he fingers caressed his cheek. “Even you have an off day.”

“Yeah, well I don’t like off days,” snorted back Tellymon, his mind was beginning to cloud over with other thoughts than that of the fight.

“So are you staying for a while or are you off again,” Zan’s hot breath mouthed the words against his neck quietly as he drew Rath in closer.

Tellymon smiled a lopsided smile, “Staying. I will send guards down to root out what is going on.” Rath broke the embrace Zan was trying to create, “I think I have some unfinished business here to attend to,” he said as he walked out of the room.

Zan stood there stunned, this was the second time that day Rath had spurred his advances. He was fast losing patience as he turned walking into the bedroom fully intending to yell at TellymonRath and find out what the problem was. He stopped dead in his tracks.

Zan could not help but gazed with a mixture of love and lust at the sight that lay before him. Tellymon was laying in the center of the bed, buck-naked, his cock bobbing back and forth gracefully in the air. Tellymon was smirking with one of those ‘come and get it looks’ that only he could produce.

Zan just shook his head, no matter how many times they are together TellymonRath always managed to spring a surprise on him. Zan removed the dark blue silk bedclothes as he jumped onto the bed and walked slowly, very sensuously across the expanse. Tellymon opened his arms invitingly as Zan dropped himself down and stretched out on top of him, sighing as their bodies made contact.

Their mouths met in a sweet and tender kiss that within seconds became passionate; a kiss of lovers, a kiss of expectancy, a kiss of erotic images. Their tongues greet each other in a lover's dance. They were consumed one by the other, their passion equal, their arousals hard as steel.

Zan could feel the strength and authority that radiated off Rath’s body; Zan yearned for exploration, for desire, for fulfillment.

Their bodies move together; skin sliding across skin, harness again hardness, as they rolled around on the bed. Their hands roamed freely and their mouths placed hot, wet kisses wherever they could reach.

Zan raised his body slightly off Rath causing their cocks to rub one against the other. Tellymon shut his eyes as wave after wave of lust coming off Zan bombarded his senses. Zan carefully shifted his hips in a slow thrusting motion, elating in the low guttural moans that escaped from Tellymon’s throat.

Dropping himself once more down, their lips interlocked, until their breath was exhausted. They broke the kiss as Zan found his way down Tellymon’s fevered body, his tongue danced against his skin, feeling the blood rise just below the surface. Tellymon groaned feverishly and arched his back when Zan tongue circling its intended target finally zeroed in, capturing the sensitive nipple gently in his teeth. Tellymon’s finger intertwined with his hair as Zan licked his way back up for a deep, erotic, sensual kiss, which spoke volumes of the act to follow.

Growling loudly Rath easily flipped Zan onto his back "I missed you," he rasped out huskily into Zan’s ear.

"That's nice," Zan whispered back as he flipped Rath onto his back. “Next time don’t leave, I had a whole night planned out, and you bailed. Why?”

“I don’t like your plans. Not use to such things.” Tellymon sighed in his admission. Even though they were confidents one of the other, he still was uneasy about being together in a couple way, not the sex part, but the relationship part. He had the same problem with Vilandra.

Zan already knew the answer and understood better than TellymonRath would ever know. Rath was not comfortable with anything intimate outside of the bed. Vilandra complained constantly that he forgot important days, failed to send flowers or jewels when he should.

Tellymon tried, he really did, but it was such a strain for him. When it got too bad, he would disappear on some fabricated mission, usually he showed up in a day or two.

“Lay back.” Zan whispered against Tellymon’s ear. “Let me for once show you ecstasy.”

They were soon lost in passion as the sexual act that followed was incredible in its visual effect, intensity of the sounds, and most of all the fevered pitch of their love for one another. All around them, the blue shield shimmered and sparkled as small bolts of electricity coming off their bodies hit against it as they climax repeatedly one the other.

As their bodies began to wind down from the culmination high, Zan took Tellymon’s face in his hands and softly kissed his lips. "Tellymon you know I love you."

"I know,” Tellymon sighed as he rolled and sprawled out to sleep. Zan just shook his head, as he laid it down on top of Tellymon’s back, his breath grew heavy.

Figuring Zan was asleep, Tellymon whispered, “I love you also Zan, It's not just about sex, I really do love you, next time I will stay.”

Zan had not seen much of Rath in the few months that passed since the assassination attempt. There had been uprisings north in the alpine regions, that needed the Commander’s constant attention. This time he had been gone for three weeks and Zan was waiting anxiously for his return, escorting him to their private quarters.

As they entered the common living area, the servants rushed out leaving the two alone. Zan began to walk over to the table where he had placed earlier a chilled bottle of blood wine and a single glass. “I have a surprise for you this…”

“Ahh… Zan I am sorry but I have to return to the forward camps this evening.” Tellymon stammered as he rubbed the back of his neck, he was feeling pressured already to conform, to stay in the little palace role of gentility and loving partner. “I need to check on the reinforcements I am sending up.” Tellymon already knew what Zan had planed, he could feel it; he just could not take the entire romantic pish posh crap. ”It will only take a couple of days.”

If the truth were to be known, TellymonRath had no idea of what it was to be in a real relationship, how to make time for each other, how to take the time given and make it enjoyable; he really had no idea. He had no such role models as a youth; he knew only hatred, pain, and degradation. Once Zan and Vilandra found out about what he had to endure as a child, they just gave into his temperament and demands, giving up on any reciprocation.

Zan stopped in mid-stride and turned to Tellymon, “You lied to me?”

“No Zan I have to go,”

“No you lied to me. I wasn’t asleep you said and I will quote ‘Next Time I Will Stay’.” Zan took a deep breath, “Why do you lie to me, Why? Just say you don’t want to be with you and that is that.” His voice had a tonal quality that hinted at his anger and hurt feelings. Zan picked up his robes from the chair, where he had thrown them earlier that day. “You have a good trip. If you want I will see you when you return.”

“Where are you going Zan?”

“I have ambassadors and statesmen from Solic who want to see me.” Zan threw open the doors and then slammed them with his powers, the wall reverberated from the impact.

Tellymon knew exactly what Zan was referring to, Larek. His blood began to burn as he narrowed his eyes at that name, Larek, who had tried several times to get Zan to be his confident; they were good friends from childhood. Rath was not sure how far their relationship went, but he knew he did not want Zan around him. Rath hated him; he did not trust him. All Larek wanted Zan for was the ability to control Antar through the bedroom doors.

Tellymon was pissed as he paced back and forth, the rage was building inside of him; he slammed his fist into the burnish green marble column cracking it from the midsection to the base. “Damn,” he threw another punch, one more devastating than the last, splitting open the skin, as his fist began to bleed. “Damn,” he slammed into the column again, this time using the full forced of his weight and shoulders. The bones in his hand and upper arm shattered on impact, but he did not feel the pain, only the anger and hurt in his heart.

He knew what he had said to Zan and at the time, he did mean it. Tellymon sank onto the floor, tears refused to form, even with the extricating pain; he had been trained well by Master Jalan, trained to hate, trained to kill, trained to be skeptical and to mistrust everyone.

Even after all these years, the social life in the palace was strange and foreign to Tellymon, he had tried so hard to adjust and to fit in. Never being raised as royal, he had no idea when he first came to act. He watched and emulated Zan from those first few moments when they met, determine to stay in the only place where he had family.

Tellymon was a natural warrior and soon he earned the title Commander from his daring and unpredictable defeat of the Ensandmens, a task every general had failed to accomplish. “Have I not shown Zan how much I love him, by keeping him safe and on the throne?” spoke Tellymon, “What else am suppose to do? Fiddle around like some old woman, making dinner and preparing the bed for a romantic night,” his voice spat out the words, as his mind conceited to what Zan desired, a relationship, not just sex, not just friendship. “Damn” Rath screamed, standing up he walked to the glass doors and threw them open, as he stood on the balcony getting some fresh air.

The steward in the hall heard Tellymon yell and debated on whether or not to enter; he was afraid of Rath and did not know what the prince may do if angered. Taking a deep breath he knocked, “My Lord did you request my services.”

Tellymon turned around, at first upset that he had been disturbed his eyes flashed fire. The steward felt his knees weaken when he saw the hatred of fury and then looking to his side, he saw the smashed marbled pillar. The steward was readying to back out mumbling apologies when Tellymon spoke up, “Steward, have a dinner for two set up on the balcony of my private bedroom in two hours. Also have the room cleaned and freshened.”

“Yes your majesty anything else?”

“Have flowers sent in, sweets like chocolates, attend the fire and braziers, and set out candles.” Tellymon pondered for a few seconds on what Zan always attended to, those small details that Rath pretended not to notice but did. “make sure the room is ummmm…”

Inwardly the steward smiled, he knew what the prince was requesting, “It will be done your majesty, just leave it up to my staff.” He bowed deeply and exited the room calling his staff to prepare the room for a night of romance.

Tellymon’s arm and hand were throbbing but he was still too angered to feel the full intensity of the pain. He walked over to the table and uncorked the bottle of blood wine, using his one good hand he downed almost half the bottle before breathing. Wiping his mouth off, he sat down the bottle of strength, turned and headed to the reception hall where Zan would be entertaining guests of the Palace.

The corridors were busy as servants rushed about making sure to stay clear of TellymonRath who looked like he could eat nails. As he passed the Courtyard of the Ages, the men were busy with a plunger, trying to find out what was stopping up the fountain. They noticed Rath breezing through as one quipped, “Now what has happened between him and the King?”

Passing by the Hallway of Mirrors Tellymon noticed he looked like hell, his clothes were wrinkled and dirty. “Shit,” as he changed into a tight fitting leather pants that Zan always enjoyed seeing him in and a black silk shirt. He felt like some damn bird preening its feathers to win the affections and right to mate with another. “I feel like a damn goldfish in a bowl, looking for attention,” he snapped aloud as he continued to the reception hall.

The door flew opened ceremoniously as TellymonRath entered the reception hall. There was instant silence as those of both noble and royal blood stood waiting for him. It was a protocol although most were silent because they feared Rath and his powers. Tellymon overlooked the crowd, his eyes narrowed as he scoped out Zan talking with Larek and the delegates from Solic. Breathing deep he walked down the steps, crossing the room with a determined look on his face as people moved quickly to get out of his path.

Off to the side was a group of young nobles, taking bets on a sporting event being held just outside, a no rules fight between the best warriors among the southern tribes. Tellymon could hear the cheers of the crowd just pass the heavy copper doors. As they watch Tellymon enter, the young nobles changed their betting options to whom TellymonRath was going to kill today.

Zan saw Rath standing at the top of the steps;Zan was displeased as he approached, still angry about their earlier talk, “Coming to say goodbye?” asked Zan sarcastically.

Tellymon glanced at Zan then stared down Larek letting him know in no uncertain terms that he disapproved of his close proximity to Zan. Larek could feel the air change, a coldness seep in forcing him to step away from the King.

Zan restated his question, “Ready to leave?”

Tellymon finally took his eyes off Larek as he answered Zan taking his usual arrogance stance, his tone flippant, “No, decided one of the generals can look into the situation and report back to me.”

Anyone else talking to the King in such a disrespectful manner would be drawn and quartered, but TellymonRath could get away with anything around Zan and the court knew it and tolerated his behavior.

“So staying huh,” a slow smile crept across Zan’s face, “Plans?” Zan noticed that Rath was wearing those black pants, the ones that showed off his ass like a fine chiseled black marble statue from the rear. He let his eyes wander down when he noticed blood, drops of blood on the floor.

“Tellymon you’re bleeding,” Zan followed the drops up to his hand, “Your hand what happened,” Zan reached out and gently held his hand, that is when he noticed the broken bones as Tellymon winced having his am move. “Your arm what happened.”

“Nothing,” Tellymon shrugged his shoulders, “a marble pillar got in my way.”

It was obvious to all that were there he had to have hit his fist into that marble pillar. Zan just shook his head, “Come on let’s go over and sit.” Zan walked Tellymon over to a grouping of chairs and sofas near one of the fireplaces. Larek and the rest followed.

Zan sat down next to Tellymon, “Your hand is shattered,” he ran his own hand up Rath’s arm, as it glowed blue. “Looks like your arm as well, it must hurt.”

Tellymon did not say anything just looked past Zan to a wall. Zan knew he had to be in a considerable amount of pain. He leaned forward, he could smell the alcohol on his breath as he brushed the hair out of his eyes, “So just what did the pillar do to you?” as he begun to heal the bones, veins, and muscles.

Tellymon glanced at Larek, “Nothing just got in my way,” he reiterated. Larek got the full meaning of that statement.

The men grouped around them could not help but notice the way Zan was with Rath, gentle and soft-spoken; he touched him comfortably, knowingly. They also noticed TellymonRath, the man that could instill fear, with a look or a single word into the hearts of friend or foe was calmer, almost childlike in his interaction with Zan. It was as if Zan was the parent healing a scrape on a child’s knee.

“There better?” Zan asked as he smiled at Tellymon.

Tellymon smiled, a brief smile but one that the onlookers all saw, before he face went stoic. “Yeah thanks Zan.” He flexed his fist in and out, “Feels okay.”

Zan still had a hand on Tellymon’s arm, not letting him leave or run away. He leaned closer; their thighs were touching, “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No, I am having some sent up to about an hour.” Tellymon rarely showed any emotion in public, but he was in a war with Larek, and he did not lose wars. He let Zan keep a hand on his arm, and did not resist when Zan moved to interlace their fingers.

“Eating alone?” Zan noticed that Rath was compliant this evening. He was not that drunk, so it was not the wine. It must be Larek, Rath was extremely jealous of their friendship.

“No, I am planning on company,” the corner of Tellymon’s mouth turned up in a slight smirk.

Larek got the message loud and clear when Zan held Tellymon’s hand, ‘That punk, how dare he slide into the King’s bed and favor over me.’ His face turned a sick pea green color, reminiscent of pond scum; he wanted Zan for the power. Larek, keep a stoic face, as he watched the King smile, talk, and hold Tellymon’s hand.

“Company? Anyone I know?” questioned Zan as he indicated to a servant for a glass of wine. He took the glass with his free hand, drank then passed it over to Rath. This was their ritual; they only used one glass between them. Many in the palace thought Rath was checking for poison, but that notion died down quickly when one day the King drink first and then hand the glass to Rath.

“Maybe?” Rath smirked, as he looked deep into Zan’s eyes reciprocating with the wine.

Zan leaned in, whispering in his ear “Just how much wine have you had?”

Rath squelched up his lips as if pondering a difficult military question, “Enough to fuck you right here and now,” he whispered back.

Zan sat back and coughed as he let go of Rath’s hand and turned to his guests. “Well gentlemen, is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“No Zan, you have been most gracious,” Larek said speaking for his home world concerning on the matter of medical needs for an epidemic that broke out in a small isolated area of Solic.

“I hope everything works out.” Zan said holding out his hand to shake Larek’s as Rath almost went ballistic. He did not like anyone touching Zan or Vilandra, skin-to-skin contact was dangerous if the person was an Assass’inay; there are potions, drugs, incantations that can bind your soul or drug the senses compelling you to another’s will.

The contact was brief as Zan turned to leave, Rath waited a second and then leaned into Larek’s ear, “If you even think about fucking Zan, I will rip your heart out.” He stepped back, smiled, and turned to leave.

Zan was waiting by the entrance for him. “What did you say to Larek?”

“Nothing just told him to say hello to Lantrow for me.” Tellymon lied as he walked away with his lover.

The distance to their rooms was short; when Zan walked in, he was amazed. The room was glowing in soft golden light. Candles were everywhere; their scent complimented the various bouquets of fresh flowers that were placed throughout the room. Music floated upon the air as soft strains melodic harmony echoed out the newest song sensation, I’m too Sexy as performed by an artist called Right Said Fred.

The bed had been freshly made, the covers pulled back, inviting the occupants in. On the table at the foot of the bed, laid a box shaped like a giant heart, containing the most succulent chocolates that the confectioner could design.

Through the balcony doors, Zan could see a romantic table set for two. He walked out to the table, lifting the covers to see his favorite meal.

Zan took a deep breath; he was always amazed by Tellymon. Just when he thought he had him, all figured out… whamm he would go and does something like this.

“Well it’s too bad…”

“What is?” Tellymon looked around puzzled, this is what Zan always did, he was sure of it. What had he missed?

Zan came in close to Rath, “It’s too bad the food will get cold,” as he ran his hands up Tellymon’s silk shirt, around his chest and then down his back, grasping firmly the leather encased cheeks.

“You like the room?” Tellymon asked. “If you want something else I can…”

“No the only thing I want is right here, this time you did stay.” He drew Rath in close, “Ready for some Hot Alien Sex.”

The End

<center>Vote Roswell #1


Fictional Writings of suicide_eagle_rath </center>


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