Common Witchwort, also known as Eastern Hagweed and Old Mother's Fingers, is a deciduous shrub that grows in the undergrowth of temperate forests, especially those composed primarily of beech. Its range includes the Kingdom of Beldane, the Eastern Marches, and the northern half of the Principality of Orthoc. Its long, narrow, waxy leaves terminate in sharp points, and are covered with…

Rowenna? Aiden called from the cottage's study. What is it called when leaves have little… you know, those little cuts in them?

A reason to buy my home-brewed, organic insecticide, the farm-witch called back. Something clattered loudly in the kitchen where she worked, and was followed by a bout of impassioned swearing.

Aiden huffed. No, no, I mean… like, when they grow that way. Crenellations?

That's city walls. No! It's fenestrations.

Thanks! Aiden called back, and returned to his writing—or tried to, anyway.

Are you going to remember to wash the dishes tonight? Rowenna asked.

Yes! I promise!

You said that last night.

Aiden winced guiltily at the page in front of him, then made a face when a fat drop of ink dripped from the nib of his dip pen and splattered onto the paper, obscuring a quarter of the paragraph he had just written on the latest entrant to his herbal.

That's enough for today, he thought, and then wiped the pen clean of ink before stoppering the inkwell. Aiden got up, stretched quickly, then went to help Rowenna salvage dinner.

The farm-witch's glare softened as Aiden rolled up his sleeves and started peeling the potatoes and carrots for tonight's beef stew. She poured him a glass of red wine to match the one sitting beside her on the cutting board, and Aiden sipped it from time to time as the pile of peelings grew in the bowl beside the sink.

How's the book coming along? she asked.

Slowly, Aiden answered. I still need to find the eastern variant of the salacious white-leafed osier.

Rowenna snorted. That sure was a string of words.

Please don't ask me to try and pronounce the scientific name; I'm already doing my best.

The farm-witch snickered, then took the peeled carrots and potatoes and dumped them into the heavy stock pot alongside the onions, herbs, and browned pieces of beef. She added the beef broth and a good bit of the wine, then covered the pot with its lid, slid it into the oven with a grunt of exertion, and set the timer for four hours.

And now, we wait, she announced.

So, I take it you haven't heard of the salacious white-leafed osier? Aiden asked.

Rowenna rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "I mean, I read Gray Anise's journals when I inherited this cottage from her. She was a true botanist-witch, unlike me, and I remember reading a bunch of funny long names in them. Wait a… what does 'salacious' mean?"

Aiden pushed his glasses up his nose. Inciting sexual desire, he answered. There's a legend about this particular osier—or willow, if you prefer a layman's terms—that if you chew the leaves immediately prior to intercourse then you're guaranteed to have twin children.

Rowenna, a farm-witch who preferred the babies she dealt with to be fuzzy quadrupeds, wrinkled her nose. A moment later, however, the expression cleared. Oh! she exclaimed, and snapped her fingers. I think I read something about a similar legend in the journals.

Aiden's gaze sharpened upon her. May I read them? I know I'm only visiting and don't have a right to your predecessor's knowledge—

Rowenna waved a permissive hand. All fifteen volumes are in the attic. Go! You've got plenty of time before dinner.

Aiden thumped up the stairs to the trapdoor leading to the attic. Four and a half hours later he emerged, covered in dust and bits of cobweb but smiling from ear to ear. I found it! he announced. It grows here! Here, in the Forest of Silence! I need to go and get a specimen as soon as possible… He started moving toward the coat rack in the foyer.

Oh no you don't! Rowenna said. This is my cottage, and as your host I demand that you eat dinner with me like a civilized witch before you go traipsing through the woods. It's already dusk, anyway; you should wait until tomorrow.

Aiden shook his head. Can't, he replied, but nevertheless allowed his feet to bring him back to the kitchen. He sat down at the table, and Rowenna put a bowl of stew and a spoon in front of him. I need to test this legend to see if it's true or not, and old Anise's journals say that the leaves are most potent at night beneath the full moon.

Moon's a waning gibbous tonight, Aiden, Rowenna pointed out, and mopped up some of her own stew with the heel from a loaf of homemade bread.

Aiden did the same with the other heel, but clearly didn't taste what he put into his mouth; his mind was elsewhere. I'm not waiting an entire month, he said between bites of bread and spoonfuls of stew. If gibbous is as good as it gets, then so be it. I need to go tonight.

Rowenna sighed. Where in the forest are you planning to go, anyway? It's gonna be hard to find a single tree out there.

Anise wrote that there was a grove of salacious white-leafed osiers along the shore of Starfall Lake. So, I'll go there.

Rowenna froze. I… I don't think that's a good idea.

Why not?

Because the leshy lives near that lake, Rowenna said, and put down her spoon.

Is it dangerous? Aiden asked.

He, Rowenna corrected. He's not dangerous unless he wants to be, but he's very… well, callous, I guess you could say. He guards the Forest of Silence from threats. Anise knew him, and he came to visit the cottage once to pay his respects and welcome me as the new witch in this neck of his woods, but… look, Anise always said that leshen in the springtime should be avoided, and it's May now.

Did she say why they were to be avoided? Aiden pressed.

No, but—

I'll take my chances, Aiden said, and got up to wash his empty bowl in the sink. Thank you for dinner, Rowenna. I'll come back before dawn.

I sure hope you do, the farm-witch muttered, and drank the last mouthful of wine straight from the bottle as Aiden left through the front door.

◇

This far north, the wind that clattered the newly-leafed branches against each other overhead still carried the barest echo of winter's bite. Aiden wore his coat and carried a lantern (and had a spare flask of oil in his rucksack, along with his watercolors, field notebook, pencils, witch-knife, a piece of apple cake, and other necessary oddments) whose flame more nibbled at the edges of the night than truly pushed back the darkness.

The botanist-witch startled when his familiar, the short-eared owl who had adopted the name Irk, alighted on the leather pad that Aiden wore over his left shoulder.

Still chasing leaves and flowers rather than rats and squirrels? the owl asked.

Yes, Aiden answered, and ducked under a branch.

I was listening outside the window, Irk continued. I can guide you to Starfall Lake, but there is a leshy there and I don't know if he wants visitors right now.

I'm not going to barge into his home without observing the proper courtesies, don't worry.

From the air, the leshy seemed… unsettled by something. I don't know if the proper courtesies will be enough, Irk warned, and then took off.

With the owl's guidance, Aiden traversed the darkness of the Forest of Silence. He encountered no wolves or bears newly woken from hibernation, although he did startle a doe and her two fawns from sleep in a clearing along the way. His feet ached by the time he reached the area close to Starfall Lake, and here he slowed—but not out of weariness. Instead, the botanist-witch reached out his hand and touched the trunk of an ancient maple.

This place was rife with wild magic; if Aiden hadn't been told of the leshy's presence beforehand, he would have suspected that a dryad or a spriggan resided nearby. However, the rituals for a witch to seek permission to enter an immortal forest-being's home turf were largely the same across species: Aiden knelt on the dew-damp ground, set his lantern down beside him, and got out the piece of apple cake in its little basket from his rucksack. He placed the offering in front of him and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

The lantern flame guttered low after what could have been minutes or hours. Aiden reached for the flask of oil to refill it before it went out entirely.

You won't be needing that, a voice rasped. It didn't sound human, although it wasn't Irk's voice by any stretch of the imagination. Aiden turned and watched as a shape detached itself from a clump of shadow and approached him.

Good evening, Aiden whispered to the leshy.

If he had been standing up straight, the leshy would have been at least seven feet tall, with a rack of antlers adding another foot and a half to that height. As it was, even while crouching his presence was intimidating. He had a face of bare, white bone, and in the uncertain lamplight Aiden couldn't tell if it was a mask or his actual body. Either way, that bone terminated in a wolf-like muzzle full of fangs. The rest of the leshy reminded Aiden of someone who had embraced lupine lycanthropy, although minus the tail of the hybrid form: bulging muscles, clawed hands, dark gray fur, and only a ragged leather loincloth for clothing.

What brings you to my home during the spring rut? the leshy demanded.

Aiden blinked. Several thoughts went through his mind very quickly, such as but ruts happen in the autumn and oh THIS is what Rowenna meant about not visiting leshen in the springtime and finally am I in danger? His eyes darted to the leshy's leather loincloth, where the shadows of the night and the leshy's own hunched-over form did good work of concealing a massive erection; Aiden would never have noticed it if he hadn't thought to look a second time.

Spring is a difficult time for me, witch, the leshy rasped. He must have seen Aiden looking, and Aiden dragged his eyes away with a guilty start. There are no other leshen for a hundred leagues in any direction, and no resident of the forest wants to satisfy my needs. Speak your business and go before my patience runs dry.

Aiden licked his suddenly dry lips. I'm a witch—a guest of Rowenna's—and I've come searching for a particular tree: the salacious white-leafed osier.

The leshy scratched his jaw. The willows with white leaves? Why? Are you impotent?

Aiden felt his face heat in a blush. No! I'm a botanist. I'm writing a book about every single magical plant species in the world, and some of the fungi.

Interesting, the leshy said, although he didn't sound particularly interested at all, and took the slice of apple cake from its basket. It was ridiculously tiny in his massive, clawed hand. He opened his fang-filled mouth—and that was definitely his actual body, not a mere mask of bone—and ate it in one bite.

May I take some leaves from your willows? Aiden asked, desperately trying not to glance at the loincloth again. He had never met a leshy before, but none of his past reading about the species had indicated they were mind-readers—which was very fortunate given the thoughts he now struggled to repress.

What are you planning to do with them? the leshy asked in return, dragging Aiden's mind back to the task at hand. He circled around Aiden like a predator considering a trapped and wounded elk, his eyes glowing bloody red in the hollows of his bone-face.

Aiden shrugged with desperate nonchalance. There's a bit of folklore about how, if one chews the leaves of the salacious white-leafed osier prior to intercourse, then a pregnancy of twins is guaranteed—so, I'm going to chew some and find out how much of it is true.

The leshy's bone-face was unreadable as he passed in front of Aiden. Why would you do that if you're here alone? Can you become pregnant? He leaned closer to the botanist-witch, his eyes burning like coals. Don't tempt me by saying you're searching for a partner for this… experiment of yours.

Aiden blushed again, and dug his nails into his palms to fight back a shiver of anticipation he knew would never—could never—be satisfied. He hoped the motion went unnoticed. No, but there's bound to be some kind of effect, and I want to find out what it is.

I see, the leshy said. He backed off, and there was a pause where he carved deep grooves in the soft earth with his clawed hands in what might have been annoyance or frustration with his condition. The white leaves of that willow are a powerful aphrodisiac if they're fresh—and the moon is almost full now, too. You'd be humping every other rock and tree on your way home if you did this, witch.

Aiden nodded. How long does the effect last?

That varies depending on the moon phase, time of day, and of course the body of the person chewing the leaves.

Aiden thought for a moment, and his heart started to beat harder in his chest as the realization sank in: I'm going to have to try it myself, then.

The leshy gave a full-body shudder at that statement, then growled. No, he said. I forbid it. Come back when the spring is over and I won't be so tormented by watching you stumble through the forest like a sex-crazed March hare.

I can't come back next season, Aiden said. He pushed his glasses up his nose and tried not to glare at the leshy in the feeble, guttering lantern-light. I only have another week with Rowenna before I need to leave the Forest of Silence to find and document all of the fungi in the southern half of the Dragonspine Mountains. I need to study the salacious white-leafed osier and its magical properties as soon as possible—i.e. now.

The leshy's eyes burned a brighter, angrier scarlet, and he lunged forward and snapped his massive jaws mere inches from Aiden's throat. The human flinched.

Don't test me, witch, the leshy snarled. My patience is finite—especially during this time of year. Leave now.

What if I helped you with your rut? Aiden blurted.

The leshy froze.

You said the leaves are a powerful aphrodisiac, Aiden continued quickly. I'll try them, and we can… make love, I suppose.

It's not 'making love' during the rut, witch, the leshy said. It's just fucking, pure and simple. You don't know what you're bargaining for.

I know you wouldn't deliberately hurt me, and I need to know about this tree in order to complete my herbal. I'll do whatever it takes.

The lantern flame went out.

Aiden's breath hitched as the leshy's eyes burned with an entirely different kind of frustration than before. Those eyes were the only light he could see in the forest around him.

What makes you so sure I wouldn't hurt you? the leshy asked, his voice a low rasp in the darkness. The eyes moved as he resumed pacing around the human, and Aiden followed them with his own gaze.

Just a feeling, Aiden whispered, but it sounded silly even in his own ears. Let me relight the lan—

No, the leshy said. If you truly want to get fucked tonight, then we won't do it under human terms. This is my home, witch; I make the rules. Get up.

Aiden stood.

The eyes came closer, and a clawed hand fastened around his arm and led him through the darkness. The waning gibbous moon overhead didn't provide as much light as Aiden had hoped; filtered through the trees as it was, the moonlight mostly just highlighted different pools of shifting shadow. Eventually, though, Aiden heard the lapping of tiny wavelets against a pebbled shore: they had reached Starfall Lake.

The willow is in front of you, the leshy rasped, his breath hot against Aiden's ear. He must have been behind the witch.

Aiden reached out, and his hand encountered a slender, drooping withy covered with long, narrow leaves that had a not-quite-fleshy texture to them—like sage leaves, almost, but a little more succulent. A faint, vaguely minty smell lingered in the air here; Aiden wondered if it came from the plant.

Clawed hands settled on his shoulders. Lost your courage? the leshy asked.

No, Aiden replied, and stripped a handful of leaves from the withy. He squeezed them in his hands, bruising the foliage, and the minty smell intensified—so, the scent definitely came from the leaves. He brought one leaf to his mouth as the clawed hands reached around and began undoing the buttons of his coat. The first leaf was bursting with juice and made his tongue tingle as he chewed, and he shrugged the coat off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground at his feet.

It will be more potent if you swallow it, the leshy said.

Is that a hint? Aiden asked.

Perhaps.

Aiden swallowed the first leaf and started chewing the second. He shivered as the wind knifed through his shirt, and let out a small, surprised noise as the leshy pressed up against his back. The creature's skin and rough fur were hot against Aiden's own body, and he felt the insistent press of the leshy's heavy, throbbing arousal against his lower back.

Before we go any farther, Aiden said around the leaf in his mouth, is there a name I can call you?

The leshy thought for a moment, rubbing his clawed hands up and down Aiden's arms. Marek, he said eventually. I killed a man named Marek once, when he came to my forest wanting to cut down far more trees than he needed. His name is mine now, as are his bones.

Aiden jerked his head in a nod and swallowed the second leaf. Marek, he murmured, tasting the syllables. Sounds good. I like it.

The leshy huffed. You don't need to like it, he grumbled, but he sounded pleased anyway.

Aiden chewed and ate a third leaf. He didn't feel any immediate changes in his body or thoughts, but that meant little; the aphrodisiac probably needed time to take effect. For now, he leaned back against the leshy—Marek, apparently—and started unbuttoning his shirt.

I'm surprised you're being affected so quickly, Marek mused, and took Aiden's chin in his hand to tip his head back for the oddest kiss that Aiden had ever experienced. The leshy's tongue was large, long, and flexible, and Aiden moaned in appreciation as Marek fucked it in and out of Aiden's mouth. The smooth and slick length of the tongue delved deeper, so that Aiden was all but deepthroating it. He lapped his own tongue along the underside and bobbed his head, tasting a faint sourness, and felt Marek's other hand curl possessively over his hip.

Aiden was breathing hard by the time they broke apart, his lips swollen and slick and his blood rushing to his quickening arousal. It hasn't affected me yet, the botanist-witch insisted. I just wanted to do this ever since I saw your cock.

Marek chuckled—a low, dark sound that made Aiden shiver—and said: You seemed far too proper to use that word, witch.

I say what I want, Aiden retorted, and the shirt joined the pile of fabric that the coat had started. He kicked off his boots, and was about to start on the fly of his pants when he remembered to say: Oh! My name's Aiden, by the way.

I will remember it, Marek promised. Now, show me what you want.

Aiden sank to his knees in front of the leshy, working his fly open one-handed as his other hand stroked the leshy's cock, which was much thicker than he had expected. Aiden gave the tip a small lick, tasting warm, bitter pre-cum, and Marek had another full-body shudder in response. His own cock twitched in the confines of his briefs.

This is what you want, witch? You want to suck the monster's cock?

Aiden looked up at the leshy's burning eyes. You did say the willow would be more potent if I swallowed, he pointed out, and the leshy groaned.

He leaned forward and swirled his tongue around the head, then hollowed his cheeks and sucked. Marek let out a ragged breath above him, and a moment later a massive hand came to rest on top of Aiden's hair, the claws ever so lightly scratching against his scalp. Aiden hummed in approval and cupped the leshy's balls with both hands, lightly massaging the heated weight of them. The fur here was short and surprisingly soft, almost downy. The claws stopped their gentle pressure, and Marek's grip on his head firmed as the leshy gave a light but insistent shove to move Aiden's mouth down his cock.

Don't play games with me, the leshy growled.

Aiden made a noise that hopefully sounded apologetic, then got to work in earnest. He relaxed his jaw, then took as much of the leshy's cock as he could into his throat. Marek snarled in approval, his hips twitching with the barely-restrained urge to thrust. Aiden bobbed his head as he breathed carefully through his nose. The leshy's scent was very strong here, a heady primal mix of sweat and carnivore musk that made Aiden push his briefs down his thighs. A hot, needy ache grew somewhere inside his pelvis, and if he could just slake it with a few strokes of his hand…

Marek used his clawed hind foot to pull Aiden's hand away from his underwear. You can cum when I fuck you, witch, the leshy said, but not before.

Aiden's whine of protest went ignored by the leshy. Still, the human liked the idea of Marek fucking him; his own cock twitched again as he imagined the long, girthy cock in his mouth stretching his hole. He clenched around nothing, suddenly feeling horrifically empty, and took the leshy a little deeper into his throat. He was almost at his limit, but surely he could take just a bit more…

The twitches of Marek's hips grew into shallow thrusts that Aiden struggled not to choke around. The head of the leshy's cock hit the back of his throat again and again until Aiden gagged in earnest and tried to pull back. For a few moments, Marek held his head in place, and then the leshy relented and allowed Aiden to suckle the head of his cock. The human tongued at the slit repeatedly as the leshy growled and shook above him, and Aiden used one hand to stroke the rest of Marek's cock as his other hand fondled the leshy's heavy balls. He wondered what Marek's cum tasted like. He wondered if he would get to taste it. He wondered if he would get to cum himself—because he needed to, he really, really needed—

Enough, Marek gritted out, and Aiden pulled off of him.

Aiden sat back and wiped his mouth on his arm. What now? he asked, voice breathless and hoarse as he stared up at the leshy's burning eyes in the darkness. He squirmed on the ground, desperate for friction.

Now I fuck you properly, Marek said. His head cocked to the side above Aiden. If you're ready.

Aiden snapped his fingers, causing a fat green spark to flare from his fingertips. It dissolved into nothingness, and when the last vestiges of its glow were gone the botanist-witch nodded. I'm clean now, yes, he said.

Marek chuckled. I like that you can do that so quickly, the leshy said. On your back; I want to watch your face while I fuck you.

Aiden laid back on top of his coat and shirt, kicked off his pants and briefs, and splayed his legs open. Am I that pretty to you? he teased, smiling up at the burning red eyes above him.

Pretty enough. Don't get ideas.

I'll try not t— Aiden began, then cut himself off when the blunt head of the leshy's cock pressed against his hole. He lifted himself up and tried to hook his ankles around the creature's furry neck, but Marek was too tall. Aiden settled for bracing his feet against the leshy's muscular chest, and then shivered at the burn of penetration that crackled up his spine like an electric charge. A clawed hand curled around his neck, the pressure gentle for now, and another held down the arm of his dominant hand to preemptively stop Aiden from reaching for himself. He frowned, but didn't have time to dwell on the restraint.

Enjoying yourself? Marek asked, then made an experimental thrust. Aiden gave a shallow gasp and nodded, and the leshy growled in what might have been approval and quickened his pace. Aiden whimpered and squirmed underneath him; Marek's cock was big, sliding along the knife's edge of being too long and girthy for Aiden to take without a significant amount of time and lube to prepare himself, and the pleasure that sparked along his nerves was a hair's breadth away from pain.

Marek bent over Aiden, and that long tongue licked along the angle of the witch's jaw. Aiden shuddered as the leshy's thrusting grew more insistent, and the hand at his throat was replaced by the damp pressure of a mouth full of fangs.

Please, Aiden whispered as he let his head fall back, baring his throat even further.

Marek pulled away long enough for a question: Please what?

More, Aiden gasped. Harder.

The leshy chuckled. Looks like the willow has taken effect, he said, and Aiden could only nod as those teeth returned to his throat. The hot, aching pressure inside Aiden was building toward its crescendo, and Aiden could do nothing to stop it or help it along while in the leshy's grasp. Marek bit down, gently enough not to break the thin skin over the human's throat but hard enough that Aiden let out an involuntary hiss of instinctive fear.

Marek pulled away again. Careful, Aiden, he crooned in mock-concern, You wouldn't want my teeth to slip…

N-no, Aiden managed. That would be… bad…

It would be, Marek agreed, and licked the spot he had bitten. The gesture was neither apology nor comfort. Aiden whimpered again and bucked his hips against the leshy's cock, trying to move in time with Marek's hard thrusts.

You're very flexible, the leshy observed, and then his voice lowered to a growl. Maybe I should keep you here for my own use every spring—keep you drugged and needy with white-leaf willow so that you can't think of anything but having my cock inside you.

Aiden could only moan loudly in agreement. Marek changed the angle of his thrusts, and his cock hit a spot inside Aiden that made the human's back lift into a dramatic arch. Delicious fire engulfed Aiden's nerves, burning away any and all thought except the exquisite pleasure rushing through him—but it wasn't quite enough. The leshy laughed again as Aiden whined insistently underneath him, and then he acquiesced to the human's wordless demand and fucked him at a grueling pace.

Maybe it was the willow, or maybe that Aiden hadn't had sex in almost a year as he had worked obsessively on his herbal, but he was already getting close. The human's cock smeared beads of pre-cum against his stomach from where it brushed against the skin there, hot and aching with need. Aiden reached for it without thinking, and the leshy immediately and remorselessly pinned his hand to the ground.

I—I need— Aiden tried to protest.

Sharp claws trailed lightly down the column of the human's exposed throat. You'll need what I tell you to need, the leshy whispered, voice rough and panting. His burning eyes seemed to fill Aiden's entire world in the darkness beside the lake. And right now I need you to cum for me. You'll tighten up around me so good when you cum. Be good for me, Aiden.

The leshy's voice tipped the witch over the edge. Aiden keened as his orgasm rushed through him like a wildfire through a dry meadow, an inferno that engulfed him in sizzling pleasure centered on his spurting cock.

Above him, Marek snarled in approval, and the leshy's thrusts grew frantic and harsh. His claws dug into Aiden's arm, and he leaned down to grip the human's neck in his jaws, his teeth leaving indents in the soft flesh there. Aiden clung to him, his fingers tangling in the leshy's fur and pressing hard into the muscled hide beneath. He writhed as Marek pressed himself as deep as he could inside Aiden and spent himself.

It took Aiden a small eternity to come back to himself. The willow still affected him: his erection hadn't fully abated, and he caught himself sighing in regret as Marek pulled out of him and left him empty.

Miss me already? the leshy asked.

Somewhat, Aiden admitted. That was… really good.

Oh, we're not done yet, Marek said. This is the spring rut; I'll be ready to fuck you again in… eh, ten minutes or so.

Aiden sat up, his arousal momentarily forgotten. Ten minutes? he demanded.

Marek chuckled. Yes, he said. Maybe a little less. Why? Is Rowenna expecting you back before dawn?

Aiden opened his mouth, then shut it again.

I'm afraid you'll just have to disappoint her, the leshy said. Now, come here.