bmblbee (bmblbee) wrote in bloodclaim,

The Fable

TITLE: The Fable

Paring: Spander
Rating: Adult
Warnings: Bad language and M/M sexual situations.
Disclaimer: The Bee owns none of the characters used
in this story.
Summary: A new take on the old fable of Rumpelstiltskin.
Xander is held in the tower prison of the evil King Liam and has
been ordered to spin a roomful of straw to gold. Can he do
it? Is there someone who can help?

Other than pointing out grammatical errors, comments are greatly appreciated.

Thanks to Naughty Fae for the pre-read and encouragement

Link to previous chapters HERE

Like a huge, puss-filled, festering boil, Spike knew that this situation was quickly coming to
a head. He had absorbed the impact of the Queen's visit and tried to understand her
cryptic musings, warnings and prophesies. He would have been inclined to simply dismiss
her as moonstruck and mentally impaired if it weren't for all of the evidence to the contrary.

The proof, as they say, is in the pudding and in this case, the pudding was a dream.

Clearly, she was the girl who had come to him in the darkest hours of his life. She had
foretold of a future that, while unbelievable, had given him hope. It was the only thread he
had to clung to that kept him from sliding into insanity or worse, ending his life himself.

And now she was here. She looked right at him although Spike was certain that her eyes
could not possibly pierce the darkness of the small crevice in the rock wall where his tiny
bat body was hidden. Yet, she spoke directly to him. She spoke of things that no one
could have known. She validated his memories and she knew that he had snuck in and
was secreted within the walls of the castle of her husband, the King.

If she was correct about all of that, Spike deduced that she must also be right about the
rest including the fact that his boy was almost out of time.

Skillfully, Spike's tiny claw feet flexed and walked as they worked their way around on
the wooden beam so that he could fully face the door to the boy's dungeon room. Any time
now, the King's guards would return with more straw. They would pile it higher than any of
the previous night's brought and they would stack it throughout the room. It would reach
floor to ceiling and it would arrive on the threat of death if not completed and transformed.

Although the prisoner would be allowed to sleep during the daylight hours, as soon as the
moon rose in the night sky, the expectation would be implicit. Every stalk of the straw must
be fed through the wheel and spun into a thin gold thread that would fill the spindle and it
must be finished before the sun pushed away the darkness.

But Spike knew this could not go on. If he again spun the straw for his boy, it would serve
no purpose. The lad was starving and withering in the dark confines of the prison and
Spike recognized the fact that he couldn't live here, in bat form, much longer.

No, together, the two of them needed to make a decision. As far as Spike was concerned,
it was a time for revelation and revolution. The only question was whether or not his boy
felt the same and even if he agreed, could a sweet, innocent young man such as Xander have
the fortitude to do what was needed.

Far below where Spike shuddered with intensity and concern, Xander laid back down on
the lumpy mat. He rolled over on his side and curled his body into a fetal position. His
tattered trousers snugged up around his muscular calves and his torn and shredded shirt,
or what was left of it, flopped across his shoulders and front. He was hungry and he was
thirsty but his physical discomfort took a backseat to the chaos in his mind.

His brain spun and whirled with questions and confoundments regarding the Queen's
bizarre visit. While nothing she said made sense on the surface, the powerful ripple
of undercurrent stirred by her odd prophesies and statements seemed to drag him under
and hold him in the grip of possibility.

He was caught up. He was filled with a transparent hope that had no real substance.
She spoke in terms he didn't understand however, in a strange parallel of wording, her
story seemed to line up and compare favorably with the things Spike had said the night
before. Was it coincidence? Were they somehow in cahoots and this was but a folly that
they played with him? No, that was an idea that didn't feel right and was quickly set aside.

So, did that mean that Spike really was a prince? Prince William O'Connor? Suddenly,
Xander eyes bugged open and he sat bolt upright. "Holy shit!" If that were truly the case,
then Xander's progression of thought led him to the fact that he had just given his virginity
to a man of Royal lineage!

Xander squiggled on his ass. The remaining the soreness each time he winked his hole served
to confirm and verify his recent lack of physical virtue. Had he actually been penetrated by
a royal bayonet rather than a monster's monster? Had he been anally honored with a
regal rogering? Was that the traces of kingly cum that was leaking from his bourgeois butt
hole? It was inconceivable and overwhelming and it caused a nervous giggle to bubble
out before he could slap his hand over his mouth.

Xander scowled. Considering their opposing stations in life, was it wrong for him to want
Spike to do it to him again. And again? He gave that deep thought as his hand drifted
down to the front of his pants where the memories of their earlier activities had his peter
stirring and starting to twitch. "No. That's not it. I wanted us to do it again before I knew
he was anybody important. I want to do it again because it feels so fucking good and
because it is with Spike. Just my Spike."

Xander drew his feet underneath him and he hoisted himself to stand. It was now mid-day
and although he should be sleeping, he found he wasn't the least bit tired. He remembered
the Queen facing the area of the wall beneath the narrow window slits as she addressed
Prince William and so, on an outside chance, Xander positioned himself there.

He felt foolish. What the hell did he think? That Spike was able to transform himself into
the moss that covered the damp stone? Or that he was looming outside the slim arrow
openings in the tower and able to squeeze himself both in and out at will? Xander
snorted. Spike was a man of slight stature but certainly not thin enough that he could
wiggle within an opening only a few inches wide.

There was very little doubt that the queen was mad as a hatter but when she spoke of
William, there was a tone of calm conviction in her voice that Xander was not ready to
write off so, with that in mind, he took a deep breath and addressed the wall.

As he did so, he kept his voice low so he would not attract the attention of the guard who
was always stationed outside his door. "Spike? Are you here? Queen Drusilla seems to
think you are. She said you are in the room with me and that when you and me did the nasty,
we changed the destiny of the kingdom. Yeah, that sounds a bit queer to me too but just in
case it is true, I think maybe we should do it again just to make sure cause the way the
kingdom is running right now ain't all that great."

Xander paused. He then relaxed into his thoughts before he continued to speak to
the unresponsive, blank stone slab. The tension melted away and he found the quiet
solitude gave him the confidence to express himself whether Spike could hear him or
not. "Look, Spike, or William or whatever your name is, I think the Queen is dip-shit
loony but I do think she was on the mark about a lot of things. She said I can't go on like
this and she was right. I won't live as a caged animal in this small prison and you can't
continue to sneak in here every night and spin the gold for that bastard. We have to take
a stand. We have to make a move and we have to do it soon."

With that said, Xander stepped back in anticipation as he waited to see how Spike would
appear and react to the laying down of the verbal gauntlet.

But nothing happened. The silence of the moment dragged on. The only sound in the room
was the pounding of Xander's heartbeat in his ears and the shuffling of his feet on the
coarse, dusty straw floor. His eyes squinted as they closely examined every inch of the
tall, curved wall. He followed each crack in the stones, up to the high, solid wooden beams
that criss-crossed near the ceiling.

He spotted a couple spiders that were spinning their webs and he noticed a dead
cricket. Tangled in a dust bunny on the floor was a large rat turd that was dry and
white with age but there was no sign of a man with a hunched back and a wonderful pecker.

Strangely, Xander found that the lack of result or confirmation was no deterrent. Oddly, he
felt an internal assurance that the Queen was right so he tried again. This time, however,
he stomped his foot and took a firmer tone. "I know you are here. I can feel you. She was
right. We belong together. Please, Spike. Show yourself. I don't care what you look
like because I know the beauty that is in your heart. If we are to fight this, or if I am to die,
I want us to be together."

Spike's tiny bat lip had curled back in a grin of pride and pleasure as he listened to his
boy's impassioned plea. It put to rest the last shred of his insecurities and hesitations as
his boy verbalized all of the same things that Spike had considered. It was time. There was
no benefit to be served from their continued separation. Spike was all in and no matter
the consequences, he would make himself known.

Spike retracted his curved, sharp claws. He let out a high-pitched squeak that no human
ear could hear and he pushed off from his area of safety and security.

As he released his grip on the rough hewn beam, he extended and flapped his leathery wings
to take flight. From there he swooped down where he circled over Xander's head and
laughed gleefully as the boy shrieked and swatted at the flying rodent who was apparently
trying to nest in his dark, thick hair.

"AAAHHH!! Get away! Get away!!" Xander ducked and dodged. He wildly flailed his arms
in an attempt to smack the varmint out of the air as it skillfully evaded the human's
assault. When Spike decided he had had enough fun, he dropped to the floor where, in
the blink of an eye, he expanded, grew and took the shape of a man.

"Zippity Zebra!! What the fuck?" Xander stumbled backwards as a rush of terror surged
through him. He rubbed his fists over his eyes and he smacked his palm against the side of
his head to knock any irrationalities from his brain. When all of that was done and he
was certain the transformed thing before him was no illusion, Xander blinked at the sight
of the silent, motionless figure in a heavy, long, hooded cloak.

The figure's head was tipped downward and the voluminous fabric of the hood prevented
the facial features from identification.

Tentatively, Xander inched closer. "Sp.. Spike? Is that you?"

The response to Xander's question was a long, audible sigh just before the head lifted and
the arms of the cloaked stranger rose from his sides. The edges of the hood were gripped
by pale, delicate hands and the fabric was tossed backwards away from the man's
horribly deformed face.

"Yes, Xander, it is I. Look upon me. It is time for you to see the horror that I am." With
no further hesitation, Spike shed the cloak, shaking it from his shoulders and allowing it
to tumble to the floor.

"Oh, wow." The soft-spoken awe in Xander's voice as well as the stunned expression of
the boy's face were hard for Spike to read. It was a good sign that Xander hadn't
screamed, fainted or called for the guards but he also hadn't taken a single breath or blinked.

Spike turned his head in shame. "Well, you can see now why I didn't want you to see or touch me."

Quickly, Xander recovered as he hastened to reassure his lover that nothing he saw changed
his heart. He was determined that none of the revulsion he felt, the rock in his stomach or
the lump in his throat would show on his face.

The reality of what Spike lived with every day of his life caused a maelstrom within Xander
that he was unable to process. But one thing was certain. It was no deterrent to
Xander's affection and, to the contrary, it only served to make him love the man-beast
more. "No, no, Spike. Don't be silly. It um... It isn't that bad. Can I...?" Xander
reached out and wiggled his fingers near Spike's face.

Spike flinched. He braced himself and reluctantly nodded.

Cautiously, Xander ran the pad of his thumb across the deep, bony ridges that furrowed
Spike's brow and the reaction was immediate. Spike's yellow, cat-eyes locked on Xander's
and glowed like burning embers. His top lip drew back to expose the long, pointy, sharp
fangs as a low, guttural growl emanated from deep within his puffed-up chest.

Oddly, none of these actions were read as intimidating or threatening as Xander's hand moved
on down where his warm palm cupped Spike's cheek. He knew Spike's posturing was a
defense mechanisms against rejection and heartbreak.

After a few minute's of cursory visual examination, Xander's face crinkled into a genuine
smile. His hand ghosted down to rest on his demon's shoulder and the boy relaxed
noticeably. "Well, it actually could have been a lot worse."

Spike huffed at the pseudo-compliment but had to admit that a great deal of the tension he
had been feeling was melting away under his lad's loving touch. Still, he was surprised to
feel a small morsel of disappointment stirred by a demon who felt sure that his appearance
would be so terrifying as to cause the boy a heart attack, stroke or at least a minor
convulsion. "Worse? And how, pray tell my young friend, how could this be worse?"

Xander stood back. He tipped his head, tapped his finger on his chin and gave, what he felt
was an honest assessment as he covered some of the more negative bases that they had
dodged. "Well, you could have a peg leg. You might have been rendered blind. You might
have been a ball-less eunuch like the king's guards or possibly have no thumbs. Oh,
goodness, can you imagine trying to pleasure yourself with no thumbs? Oh, hell yes,
Spike. This could be a whole lot worse."

"ACK!" Defensively, Spike cupped the family jewels with his fingers as he gratefully flexed both thumbs over the front of his trousers. "Bite your tongue! What sort of pervert have I created that all you consider is my abilities to tease a cock?"

Playfully, Xander skipped around to stand at Spike's bent and deformed back. He placed
his hands on Spike's shoulders and without pause, Xander firmly dug his thumbs into the
fleshy areas pressing into the muscles with small circles of massage. "You have indeed
given me the gift of physical pleasure, my dear beast, but in return, I have presented you
with my virtue and my heart. We are one now, Spike and to insult this body of yours is
an insult to me. You wouldn't do that, would you?"

Spike swayed on bowed, wobbly legs. His eyes rolled up and his head lolled back at
the incredible feel of the boy's strong, calloused hands working, kneading and massaging
the tight knot of muscled down the length of Spike's twisted spine. It was such a
wonderful sensation that even the Dibbuk demon within him lie silent and content.
"Huh? What? Did you say something?"

And with an unexpected swiftness, the touch was gone along with the soft, comforting tone
of voice and their close, sensory-stirring proximity. With a stern swat on Spike's rump.
Xander stepped around so that he was again face to face with his deformed lover. "Okay,
enough coddling. We both know time is short and we have things to figure out. The guards
will be here anytime now with the straw and you have to be back to batty before then."

Although he agreed with the facts, Spike pouted at the lack of physical pampering and
the indelicate wording. "Hey! I am NOT batty. I prefer to think of meself as bat-like or
possibly bat-ish but batty is dotty and I am not..."

Xander shook his head and waved his hand. "Sure. Sure. Whatever. Anyway, we need
to consider what it was that the Queen, who by the was is goofy as a fucking loon, said.
She said there is an out to the curse that only I can implement since I freely gave you my
virginity and innocence along with my love and heart."

Spike ignored the warm squiggles he felt at the declaration of love and instead, he frowned as
he tried to recall her exact words. "Yeaaa. What was it? Something about a shameful name?"

Xander snapped his fingers as the exact recollection returned to him. "No. It was 'a
shameful name' it was the name of your shame. I'm sure it has something to do with
your physical deformities."

Spike snorted in disgust. "Yeah, well that could be anything, couldn't it?"

Xander's face broke out into a huge grin. "Only one way to know. STRIP."

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