This Story Is a View of Reality As Seen Through Planar Chaos™. As Such, It Is NOT CANON and Should Be Treated As Such
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This story is a view of reality as seen through Planar Chaos™. As such, it is NOT CANON and should be treated as such. It is a direct continuation of my previous story. So go read it, if you haven’t. I don’t want you getting spoiled on all the critical backstory. Veren was unprepared for the reality of sleeping with someone else. Well, the sleeping part, he could handle, for the most part. It was certain other things that left him uncomfortable. Waking up choking on a lock of hair, with an arm trapped under his lover’s head… he wouldn’t trade it for the world, but then again, maybe he would. So, trapped as he was, he did his best to enjoy the view. In the light of dawn, he could examine the… changes they had wrought a bit more clearly. The grove around them was the most transformed. It was… verdant was the only word for it. The grass beneath them was thick, an indicator of the strong soil that lay beneath. He was sure that if he had a hand that wasn’t busy holding his lover, that he could reach down and draw out a handful of tightly packed, almost black sod. And the trees were no worse— the dried out bark, which before had been nearly gray, bare fingers reaching into the sky, like the hands of a beggar, were now rejuvenated, branches heavy with leaves and— more importantly, fruit. Meat had been rare for a while, as animals were hunted down by the remnants of the monstrous hordes or by survivors, and his efforts in growing crops, even magically aided, had found little success in the dessicated earth. His magic could sustain a small amount of people, but he had spared it for the weak and sick. This was a blessing, to be sure. Despite himself, he offered a quiet, murmured blessing to Karametra. In response, his lover shifted, drawing closer to him, despite the rising heat, even so early in the morning. In the early morning light, with the lust of the fertility spell faded, he was able to clearly see all the half-remembered shifts from the last night’s passion. Her body was still smeared with dried paint, and grass was tangled in her newly lengthened hair. This would all take quite a bit of getting used to. Having a home again. Having… a lover. Partner. Did elves marry? He wasn’t quite sure. He felt color rising in his cheeks at a certain memory, glancing over at her collarbone. A bite mark, where the skin was red, making it very visible. Mine , his memory echoed. He averted his eyes in embarrassment, squirming on the makeshift sheet that they lie upon. Pins and needles ran up his deadened arm as the elder awoke. “You’re still here,” she said in a little half-whisper. She touched his face, as if to confirm he was still real. Gods, but she was beautiful. “Where would I go?” he replied, drawing in to lay a peck on her lips. “When all I could need is right here in front of me.” She went red, the color spreading as far as her long ears. He would have to thank that old priest some day, if he ever went back to his home. “Flatterer,” she said, but a smile spread across her lips. She took a look across the grove, taking in the same sight he had. “That’s…” “Yeah. I saw it. This is… revolutionary.” The grove was full of heavy fruit and fragrant flowers— soon, it would draw back some of the natural life that used to be here. This place would recover. Slowly, to be sure, but also much faster than the methods he had been using. “Well, I certainly can’t complain about the methods,” she said, bringing her hand down his jawline. The other traced his side, finding his quickly-stiffening member. It had decreased in size since he had been asleep, no longer requiring the application of fertility magic to fit inside his partner. “We’ll have time for more later. For now… we should wash. Get ready to explain things.” he said, moving her hand. She pouted playfully, as he sat up, preparing to stand. He groaned, sore muscles straining in protest as he rose. It felt like his entire lower body was worn out But then again, he had felt much the same after he began helping on his parents’ farm, back home. He would have to adjust. “Very well,” she said, extending a hand, and he pulled her up. She stumbled, falling into his chest. “Oh my,” she said. “I guess this is what the older women meant by ‘too sore to walk’,” she said, looking up at him. Not as far up as she had had to look yesterday. “You’d best take responsibility for this.” “I would never be known as a man who neglected his responsibilities. Especially when it came to his lover,” he said. She smiled at that, gentle and genuine. “Hearing you say that… it makes it feel more real. That it wasn’t just the magic making us come together,” she said, resting her head against his chest. “I’m not going to give this up,” he said, bending down, hooking an arm beneath her knees. He lifted her up, carrying her in his arms. It seemed easier than it should have been. Especially with how much… larger she had become. “After all, this is my tribe now.” “Mmm. You’re taking this better than I thought you would, you know,” she said as they walked. Well, he walked. But she was also there. The grass tickled his bare legs, a sensation he had been used to, but now seemed new after so long spent in barren lands. “Well, I have to admit, last night erased a great many of my doubts. But I would not, could not leave you. Especially not with…” he said, eyes flicking down to her belly, where the crest over her womb was still nearly intact. “A child?” she said, her grip around his neck tightening. “Normally it wouldn’t be possible. Even with the help of fertility magic. But with the sheer amount you channelled into me last night, and I into you… it could be,” she said, biting her lower lip thoughtfully. His gaze settled thoughtfully on the dessicated wood ahead of them, as they left the area where the life had returned, vibrant underbrush fading to thin scraps of grass, pushing out from underneath cracked and dusty ground. Eventually, they came to a creekbed. Fortunately, none of the tribe had risen early to gather water, or their little trip could have ended awkwardly— after all, neither of them had bothered to dress. He laid her down in the water, wading in himself. He began to cleanse his skin rather regretfully—it felt wrong, to wash his markings off. They were like a lion’s mane, or a tiger’s stripes. But as he did, he discovered several new things about his body. For one, he was significantly larger, several inches taller at least, nearly half a foot by his lover’s reckoning. And he was much more muscled— though he found, after a comedic incident attempting to lift a large rock at the edge of the creek, that he had not actually gained too much raw strength. It was just as if his muscles had risen to the surface of his body, making him look like an Akroan bodybuilder. Still, it was convenient, if only because he could easily pick up and carry her, even if she had finally recovered enough to be able to walk. Of course, the most notable change was in his genitalia. Even when soft, it rested at 8 inches, and his testes were more than three inches across, feeling heavy in his hand as he scrubbed. The young elder’s body had undergone much more drastic changes, however. The fertility magic had worked to make him more… ther e. More imposing. More definingly male, in every aspect. Much the same had happened to his love’s. Her petite body had expanded out in ways that were most interesting to his more base desires, wide hips, motherly breasts, and everything that went with it, softness added nearly everywhere. As he was male, so she was female. Where he was chiseled of marble, she was shaped of clay. He chuckled. Something about just looking at her made him wax poetic. She caught his gaze, looking away shyly, before thinking better of it, and locking eyes with him again. He waded through the creekbed, dipping his head down to meet her with a kiss. She could actually reach his head now, standing, even with his increase in height. “I thought we were—mmf—going to explain things to the tribe,” she said, between the gaps in their sloppy kiss. “It can wait,” he decided, as they moved as one, somehow instinctually aware of each other’s bodies, past the mud of the shore and onto the rock he had failed to lift earlier. He laid her against the rock, sinking to his knees. “What—ah!” she said, as his tongue dug into her folds. “I told you, didn’t I? That I wanted to make you feel good,” he said, channeling fertility magic through his body. It was harder than with the paint, exponentially so, but his planeswalker spark was a very efficient source of mana. Yet, it twisted the magic as he channeled it, turning it into… something else.